During the month of Ramadhaan my colleagues Mishal and various others would take turns to bring sahoor or fatoor (break fast meal) for the skeleton staff on duty even though meals are usually provided from the Royal Kitchen. Mishal is a Saudi but he loves Indian food. Now for lesson number one don't ever ask the question "What do you wish to eat?"..You will be encountered with a long list of items to make...Any way one of the items Mishal wanted to eat was Kebaab and Puri(fried Indian bread).Now I can do the kebaab bit but Puri absolutely no. I tried the Puri recipe a month ago and it turned out to be a complete disaster. I have made it many times before in South Africa under moms supervision and it came out perfectly. I think she cast her magic wand. But trying it on my own was a true calamity in the making.Any way I did not want to tell Mishal that I can not make it. He would tell me oh my God you Indian and you do not know how to make your own traditional dish. So I came home yesterday and after taking a morning nap I woke up feeling up beat and positive. I took out moms recipe book and I told myself I will try it again.So happily I take out the ingredients. Mind you its just 5 ingredients but of course the trick is in the softness of the dough and simply getting the right texture.So I get down to business..I follow the instructions, mixed the ingredients and kneaded the dough. I rolled out the dough, cut it into fours whilst the oil was getting hot. So oil is hot and we ready to fry. On your marks, get set, go. I placed the dough in the oil and to my horror the dough didn't even rise.It sank to the bottom of the pot like the heavy mass of an anchor thrown from aboard a ship. I tried another piece. This time it rose beautifully but was soaked in oil like a dish cloth soaked with water.I didn't bother continuing any further. I felt rather guilty with famine and hunger occurring across the globe but I took the dough and dumped it in the garbage bag. Suddenly moms voice started ringing in my ears."Sumayya I told you how important it is for a woman to know how to cook.You should have learned everything by now.Learning how to cook is for your own benefit.".We can dispute this fact but mothers somehow are always right.Then another voice came into my head and said,"Don't give up, try again. Failure is a stepping stone to success".With that thought in my head I decided to start off again.And after one hour of concentration I made the perfect puris.
I come from a home of very good cooks. Mom, her sisters, my grandmother and great grand mother all have a flair for cooking and baking.Mom even has a small catering business that she runs from home. She can make any meal and it comes out perfectly.
Now call me a spoiled brat but I never really fancied the kitchen.I think the only time I enjoyed the kitchen was when I was a kid, maybe 5 or six years old and I would wear my apron and imitate mom in the kitchen. She would give me my own small rolling pin and board and I would merrily "LOLL AND LOLL the dough"..(baby language for roll and roll the dough)..I'm sure that mom must have been happy that her only daughter is following her footsteps and that too at a pretty young age. It was too good to be true.
As I got older hitting the teenage years,I always found kitchen work mundane or boring.Luckily mom dearest was always there to cook and in her absence our house maid Sarah was well trained to take care of the kitchen affairs.There was a few times when mom was away either for a vacation or a medical urgency and Sarah dearest handled all household chores brilliantly whilst we all continued with our busy lives at work or school. Dad use to try helping by making breakfast which use to turn out to be quite a shocking experience in itself. The kitchen use to look as though a tornado hit the place. Dads eggs had the texture of rubber and almost 99 % of the time he food burn the toast.Dads idea of a breakfast use to be Burnt toast with rubber eggs. I should get a restaurant to incorporate this meal in their menu..It would only be a matter of days before the restaurant would close down.
During my teenage years mom would lecture me on the importance of knowing how to cook.It was like a long sermon that would be repeated endlessly.The famous line would be one day you would get married and have to run your own home. You would still have to cook for your family despite being a professional person. There were times when dad would step in and say that if I got married he would send me off with a cook. He always said this jokingly but this one statement would be enough to trigger mom.I would be let off the hook and dad would be the next target of moms sermon on how he loves spoiling the kids. Dad is a big built burly man with a long beard. He looks a lot like one of the members of the Saudi religious police.No offense dad. He looks cheeky, strict and temperamental but far from it.He always threatened to give us a "shot' or two for misbehaving as kids but it was merely am idle threat. Mom on the other hand was the strict disciplinarian.I guess one parent has to take on that role other wise you would have a bunch of hooligans in society. Unfortunately in today's times the kids are disciplining the parents.Parents have to jump to the tunes of their kids in many instances in order to keep the peace and sanctity of the home.
Traditionally the mother is usually the cook of the home. As I went through the disastrous process yesterday I stopped to ponder at how most of us take our moms for granted. Cooking is definitely an art. Its a skill like any other profession be it a pharmacist or a physician or an engineer.I now know what mom means when she says that the work that goes into making a dish is extensive and you will never know how much of effort is placed in to it , but eating the food is one, two, three.
Thanks to skype and other technological advancements the world has undoubtedly become a really small place.Whenever I'm stuck whilst making a meal I simply skype call mom and she appears like a genie in the box. Yesterday though I was thinking that what if mom is not around.We all have to leave the world one day.I then told myself that during my next vacation God willing I will spend more time with mom in the kitchen perfecting the art of cooking.I have come a long way though. I'm not the queen of the kitchen but I'm certainly getting there. After all practice makes perfect.Three years ago when I came to the Kingdom I didn't know anything about cooking let alone all the complicated Indian spices. Mom sent me off with recipe books but I just didn't know where to start. So four months down the line on my arrival in the Middle east mom comes by to visit me in what I called OPERATION KITCHEN. We went out Indian grocery shopping and mom packed everything in my kitchen in a neat systematic order. It was then really easy to follow all her recipes and as I started making different dishes that came out successful I was actually enjoying the idea of cooking.I always had plan B if all recipes failed. Plan B was designed by dad. If in the event the meal does not come out as expected just simply order your meals from a nearby restaurant and get them to deliver or find a nice Indian woman who would cook your meals and drop it off at your home.I'm glad to say that I hardly ever used Plan B.
Anyway, time to go into the kitchen and prepare for sahoor(morning meal before the commencement of the fast).Omelette with mushrooms, onion, tomato,chilli and a dash of cheese.The next time you rush into the kitchen after smelling the tempting aromas making its way around the house from your moms kitchen, go up to your mom and give her a certificate on being the best cook in the whole world. I personally think that a housewife has much more responsibilities and chores throughout the whole day compared to a career woman...Everyday should be mothers day.Appreciate your moms cooking and let her know that you are grateful for her presence. Often we only appreciate people when they leave the world.That's when we have feelings of regret and hopelessness.There is no need to be feeling this way. Start today and appreciate the people around you from your mom, dad, the cleaner, the house maid, any one that has made a difference to your life.....
Oh and one last bit, the pictures are not from Flickr or Photobucket. It is pictures that I had taken of the successful batch which I sent to mom via Blackberry messenger..Yes, Yes I know.. I had a brief moment of feeling like a child who had performed her task diligently and is now awaiting her reward...LOL!!!!
If you wish to make Puris (A fried Indian bread), please feel free to visit the Kitchen section of this blog.
