The Cooking Legacy
The cooking legacy (Long read alert!)
I am often asked if I learned to cook from Baba. Yes and no.
I would not consider myself to be a faithful student of Baba.
Baba’s style of cooking was like a music teacher who constantly improvised. There were no fixed taanaa, aalaap, mukhdaas in those compositions. Every time the beginner student was surprised (read: confused) with something altogether different from the previous version. Barring a few recipes, he had no fixed recipe for anything. Everything was impromptu, improvised. So it was hard for me or anyone to learn. I don’t think even he could have replicated most of his dishes perfectly at any time. Each time was unique, different,spontaneous. But invariably leaving a lasting memory.
Cooking and serving encompasses a plethora of qualities. While ultimately it is the taste that matters, a lot goes on behind the scenes from the time the ingredients are raw, untouched to them reaching the plate and palate. The adaptability of cooking within the scope of available resources, the prep skills, the speed,stamina and judgement of proportions when cooking large quantities, the timeliness, cleanliness, presentation, eagerness and humility when serving and so much more come under the umbrella of qualifications of a good cook.
Baba had gone through tough times and started with humble beginnings. There was a time in his childhood when there was rice for breakfast, rice for lunch and rice for dinner. Because that’s what grew in the family’s fields. No chapatis, no fancy foods. Therefore the luxuries that became possible in later life could never deter him from cooking in someone’s home with limited resources. He could serve up the tastiest dal fry and potato bhaaji if that’s all there was at hand. That is one quality he made us grow with. No fuss would be tolerated.
There was no way I could match his stamina or the scale of his cooking. My single handed cooking went as far as serving a party of 75. His capacity could extend to a thousand or more.
What I did learn 100% from him however were the prep skills. Especially chopping onion. You will have to see it to believe how fast yet finely and uniformly an onion is cut, his style.
There was however one aspect of cooking where I could definitely brag about being better than him. That was in keeping the sanctity of the kitchen. My work area remained clean during and after cooking. In contrast, his mess was HUGE and others ended up tired after he was done cooking. Usually these “others” meant Aai and/or me!
Digressing a little bit now to explain how and why my cooking cannot be considered fully faithful to Baba.
During my childhood years in Khopoli I had never needed to pay attention to the kitchen. Either Baba or, in his absence, the house help, would do the cooking. At 15, I was off to college in Mumbai and soon thereafter to medical school. There was neither time nor inclination for cooking. Also cooking was prohibited at the hostel. So really my journey in the kitchen began after I got married.
I recall the first time I went to meet my prospective husband. Abhay’s mother had asked me, “Do you know how to cook?” Me being not one to have any trace of diplomacy answered with a candid “no.”
Sensing the perils of such an answer, Baba rushed to salvage the situation and intervened, “She can make simple aamti, bhaaji.” My future mother-in-law had smiled. She told me later that she had liked me for the honesty. In her opinion, not knowing how to cook is far from being a disadvantage. She said you can teach a person who acknowledges they don’t know something. In contrast, girls who come claiming they know everything cannot ever learn.
My cooking thus was influenced by Baba as well as by my mother-in-law. I find it intriguing that at that stage when my interest in cooking was kindled in the real sense, it embraced even the traditions of my maternal family. My maternal grandmother’s mouth watering Malvani recipes, passed down to my aunts, like the fish curry, fried mackerel, malvani chicken wade, sol kadhi, teesryanche suke, kolambichi aamti all were effortlessly assimilated into my cooking. While Baba was a master in cooking Biryani, chicken or mutton curries, crab curry, palak paneer, paneer tikka, etc I learned to make puran poli, saakhar bhaat, bhoplyaache bharit, ghaarge and such typical Marathi household items from my MIL. Homemade goda masala recipe was handed down from her. Day-to-day items in my kitchen like vegetable curries, aamti, usal, koshimbir, chutneys unmistakably carry her stamp. In contrast special occasion recipes like gulab jaam, basundi, ras malai, shrikhand, jilebi are very much from Baba’s repertoire.
The thought of his delicacies takes me back to Diwali days in childhood. Baba would be sitting on a low stool with a large kadhai (wok) filled with piping hot oil in front of him, frying chaklyaa, karanji, shev, shankarpale and more for hours without fatigue. Growing up, my birthdays more often than not were celebrated at home with gulab jaam made by Baba. His syrup in this recipe was indeed something most people would die for. There are gulab jaams, and there are gulab jaams made by Baba!! No comparisons!! The soft balls would soak up the divine flavor so luxuriously, only those who had the good fortune to experience it firsthand will know that my words carry not an ounce of exaggeration.
While on the subject of cooking, it is relevant to discuss the natural affinity of any master chef for the tools of the trade.
A large part of my kitchen equipment owes its existence to Baba. Realizing my excitement for cooking he exported a commercial sized Idli grinder for me from India as well as a tandoor oven (see pictures below).
The homemade goda masala recipe taught by my MIL found its worthy partner in this mortar and pestle from Baba. The oils released from the roasted spices after a good pounding under the heavy column of iron can never compare in flavor to the same recipe condemned to a battering in a modern sophisticated blender.
On one of his trips from India, he had carried for me a pair of 2-inch-thick wrought iron griddles (tawas) each weighing about 12 kgs to make dosas like are made on carts of street vendors or restaurants in India.
I was fortunate to be able to reciprocate by making a customized outdoor kitchen to suit his expanse of cooking and he made the utmost use of it. (see picture)
The love for a well equipped kitchen as well as the flair for experimenting with new and old recipes was luckily passed down to me from Baba and further down to his grandkids including his grandson. I suspect Baba must have had pride written all over his face when the kids paid tribute to him, his way. Thanksgiving dinner 2020, these kids cooked up a spread of some of his special items like masala mac and cheese, kanda and mirchi bhaji (onion and chili pepper fritters), dal fry, fried rice, paneer tikka, etc. Highlights were Amita’s batata wadas and Adwight’s gulab jaams. (see pictures)
Reflecting on the rich legacy he left behind for me surely brings joy to my aching heart. Yet nothing is enough. A few more years, a few more dinners together, a few more tips on cooking, cooking for the kids’ weddings!! He had so much more we could have counted on. Alas!! A treasure chest of memories is what remains. And that I share with you today.
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