The Flavours from Love’s Kitchen

The earliest memories I have of my mother’s cooking and her kitchen are of a quaint, cosy, small room. My mother would turn out the most delicious meals with the heavenly aroma of biryanis, pakoras, kebabs, vegetable cutlets, kormas, the yummy halwas, and what not... filling the whole house.

I remember my mother toiling at the grinding stone making a paste of the ‘masalas’ for some delicious curry or mint chutney. Her hands moving to and fro with the grinding stone, her bangles tinkling softly. I loved to watch her and often begged for a chance to use the stone too… I fondly recollect my mother laughing when I tried to ‘help’ her in making the paste. I loved to stand beside her in the kitchen while she slowly put into the hot oil the ‘masala’ and watch the onions become a golden pink and the ‘masala’ spluttering and sizzling.

The day she would put on the ‘kadai’ and announce ‘aaloo puri’ for breakfast would be another delightful experience. It had been a great mystery to me how the puris would puff themselves up sitting there in the oil and grow red with anger. I simply loved bursting them when they emerged on a plate piping hot from the ‘kadai’. I would juggle a hot puri from one hand to the other blowing on it eagerly to cool it down sufficiently to take a bite. Hmmm... that first crispy bite would always be divine!

The ‘pickle-making ceremony’ during the summers was an awesome experience-chopping the raw mangoes, boiling the ‘lasaudas’, spreading them out on old bed sheets to dry them, the ‘masala preparation’, heating the mustard oil, washing the big jars and filling them. The task of placing the jars with the pickle out into the sun everyday didn’t seem too much because of the excitement and impatience to have that first bite of the ‘khata-meetha’ pickled raw mangoes. My sister and I, we both would ceaselessly pester mummy with questions as to when we would be able to ‘taste’ the pickle.

Baking cakes at Christmas time was yet another story! How my sister and I loved to oversee the whole exercise from chopping the dry fruits (and tasting them in the bargain) to mixing the batter to pouring the mixture in buttered moulds to poking our noses into the kitchen as the ancient oven worked at getting our cakes ready to demanding a slice from the first freshly baked hot cake for tasting! I remember all those moments.

We enjoyed every season in mummy’s kitchen, be it summers or winters because there would be so much to do... making potato chips, pickling red chillies, green chillies and lemons; making ‘aamla’ candy... Oh... the list is endless!

Years have passed and today of course a multitude of modern, electronic gadgets have replaced the age old ones in a well equipped modern kitchen but the taste of Mummy’s yummy food still continues to excite and enthral the palate. Often I wonder what makes the food so divine. Gradually I have come to realize the answer… the special ingredient every mother adds to her food that makes it unforgettable and nourishing is LOVE… HER LOVE... be it yesterday or even today!!