I'm presently sitting contently in front of my laptop, trying to meet some work deadlines. But all I can think of is the delicious lunch I have had an hour ago. If there is indeed a temporary heaven for gastronomically satisfied bellies and stuffed hearts then mine would already have found a place there; instead of trying to sit and make sense of words in a document and put that into some sense.
The meal was a simple, home-cooked fare - rice, nachikota keerai sambar, potato fry, tomato rasam and curds. I shall leave humility aside and accept that it was a good day in the kitchen and all items were very tasty. Every element was a lip smacking addition to our meal, which by itself should have elevated the lunch to nirvana status. But for me it was the combination of the various elements on my plate that contributed to a perfect mouthful. The pairing of the right dishes that look ubiquitous on the plate but transcend all expectations when they touch the tongue and give that sock in the palate...hmmm, that my friends should be why we should be studying chemistry.
S is a purist. He believes in relishing the meal one item at a time. To a plate of steaming hot rice, he first pours a dollop of ghee (pure cow's ghee) and waits for it to melt into the folds of the soft, white rice. Then he would add the porriyal, the vegetable side dish of the day. This dry mixture would be savoured first, followed by the kozhambu or gravy of the day. Once the gravy has been tasted with a papad or two, the rasam followed and here he would pair it with the reminder of his vegetables and finally, he would end the meal with the quintessential curds and/or pickle. There was no confusion, no deviation...just straight forward plan to eating. He loves his food and takes great interest in the making of it too, but it wouldn't be shown in the process of eating.While eating, he followed the plan/ order.
If you were to glance across the table at my plate, you would see a completely different story. To a plate of steaming hot rice, I would pour a ladle of the gravy and add a portion of the veggies. One mouthful later, my plan for the meal changes. If the first mouthful was good, then I would continue to eat the same stuff over the next three courses; loathe to spoil the merrymaking in my mouth with rasam or even curds. But supposing the mouthful was not perfect, I start a mini experimentation. In goes the most reliable element to elevate the meal - pappad.
This crisp, savoury would generally be enough to balance my penchant for a sour, tangy, savoury mouthful of food. If things hadn't or wouldn't succeed after this simple addition, I would move to the next element - rasam. I would dribble a small portion and test a mouthful. This bastard combination to a purist's eating plan would continue or suffice as my second course. I give up pretending to be enjoying the meal right about at this juncture and quickly move to curds and pickle; which till date has never disappointed. At least I end most meals with a smile when there is this white and bright red combo sitting on my plate.
This particular afternoon as you would have guessed, there was a successful pairing - a marriage of sour and savoury. The moment the flavourful keerai sambar and crispy potato fry joined hands and waltzed into my mouth, I became putty to their sheer chemistry. After every crunchy and tangy mouthful I sent up a word of thanks to the Almighty for introducing me to this cuisine. I can relate to Anthony Bourdain's quip when he had visited Punjab, India for an episode of Parts Unknown series.
"If this was what vegetarianism meant in most of the places that practice it in the West, "I'd be at least half as much less of a dick about the subject."
With great difficulty I let go of the sambar and potato fry combination and moved on to the tangy, tomato rasam I had made that day. I had to coax the potato fry to cheat on the sambar, but nobody seemed to complain and the result was that I over ate this afternoon.
What was special about this combination is that I have discovered and enjoyed this only after meeting S. The potato fry is his specialty and I won't be exaggerating if I were to confess that I could never recreate it. No matter how much I emulate him, mine just doesn't match his end product. I am not complaining one bit right now as long as it is part of our cyclic lunch menu.
There are certain combinations I have realized, that one can absolutely bank on. Sambar with almost everything, Egg with almost everything, Fish fry and rasam, and as a friend pointed out rasam and chicken fry/curry, Keerai dal with potato/yam/plantain/brinjal fry. Mutton chukka and curds, Mor kozhambu and fish curry/ chicken curry...the list can go on, and so will my blog posts.
The meal was a simple, home-cooked fare - rice, nachikota keerai sambar, potato fry, tomato rasam and curds. I shall leave humility aside and accept that it was a good day in the kitchen and all items were very tasty. Every element was a lip smacking addition to our meal, which by itself should have elevated the lunch to nirvana status. But for me it was the combination of the various elements on my plate that contributed to a perfect mouthful. The pairing of the right dishes that look ubiquitous on the plate but transcend all expectations when they touch the tongue and give that sock in the palate...hmmm, that my friends should be why we should be studying chemistry.
S is a purist. He believes in relishing the meal one item at a time. To a plate of steaming hot rice, he first pours a dollop of ghee (pure cow's ghee) and waits for it to melt into the folds of the soft, white rice. Then he would add the porriyal, the vegetable side dish of the day. This dry mixture would be savoured first, followed by the kozhambu or gravy of the day. Once the gravy has been tasted with a papad or two, the rasam followed and here he would pair it with the reminder of his vegetables and finally, he would end the meal with the quintessential curds and/or pickle. There was no confusion, no deviation...just straight forward plan to eating. He loves his food and takes great interest in the making of it too, but it wouldn't be shown in the process of eating.While eating, he followed the plan/ order.
If you were to glance across the table at my plate, you would see a completely different story. To a plate of steaming hot rice, I would pour a ladle of the gravy and add a portion of the veggies. One mouthful later, my plan for the meal changes. If the first mouthful was good, then I would continue to eat the same stuff over the next three courses; loathe to spoil the merrymaking in my mouth with rasam or even curds. But supposing the mouthful was not perfect, I start a mini experimentation. In goes the most reliable element to elevate the meal - pappad.
This crisp, savoury would generally be enough to balance my penchant for a sour, tangy, savoury mouthful of food. If things hadn't or wouldn't succeed after this simple addition, I would move to the next element - rasam. I would dribble a small portion and test a mouthful. This bastard combination to a purist's eating plan would continue or suffice as my second course. I give up pretending to be enjoying the meal right about at this juncture and quickly move to curds and pickle; which till date has never disappointed. At least I end most meals with a smile when there is this white and bright red combo sitting on my plate.
This particular afternoon as you would have guessed, there was a successful pairing - a marriage of sour and savoury. The moment the flavourful keerai sambar and crispy potato fry joined hands and waltzed into my mouth, I became putty to their sheer chemistry. After every crunchy and tangy mouthful I sent up a word of thanks to the Almighty for introducing me to this cuisine. I can relate to Anthony Bourdain's quip when he had visited Punjab, India for an episode of Parts Unknown series.
"If this was what vegetarianism meant in most of the places that practice it in the West, "I'd be at least half as much less of a dick about the subject."
With great difficulty I let go of the sambar and potato fry combination and moved on to the tangy, tomato rasam I had made that day. I had to coax the potato fry to cheat on the sambar, but nobody seemed to complain and the result was that I over ate this afternoon.
What was special about this combination is that I have discovered and enjoyed this only after meeting S. The potato fry is his specialty and I won't be exaggerating if I were to confess that I could never recreate it. No matter how much I emulate him, mine just doesn't match his end product. I am not complaining one bit right now as long as it is part of our cyclic lunch menu.
There are certain combinations I have realized, that one can absolutely bank on. Sambar with almost everything, Egg with almost everything, Fish fry and rasam, and as a friend pointed out rasam and chicken fry/curry, Keerai dal with potato/yam/plantain/brinjal fry. Mutton chukka and curds, Mor kozhambu and fish curry/ chicken curry...the list can go on, and so will my blog posts.
Comments
Btw I dispute the 'correct' order. That is the Telugu-style order. Any self-respecting Tam would start off with rice and ghee and Sambar alongside a serving of the day's veggies and papad.
And finally the last para about combos simply blew my mind! Some unheard of ones! And please add chicken and rasam to the list
Oooh yeah chicken and rasam, whattay!