The other day I decided to make Malabari parathas as I was bored and hence hungry. I am hungry when I am hungry and on many other occasions like when I am stressed, worried, tired, relaxed, bored and when I make such lists. I have these special cravings too which is not surprising if you know me. On some days I want to eat banana halwa, on some days kaju katli, rave unde, bread-toast, holige, puliyogare; depending on how the chemicals in my brain are playing, which in turn depend on non-availability of the very dishes, and mind you, I like a lot of things and I am completely unaware of what’s coming next as tantalizing thought bringing in uncontrollable craving. It is a different thing that none of these thoughts get converted into 3D structures. In those times I realize that I am early in this world by a few decades. If I was born a little late by half a century or so, I would have been able to print out my favorite jalebis.
When I went to the pantry, I did not have refined flour and I used the whole wheat flour. I mixed a little less oil as I am a little health conscious and soon the dough was ready. When I made perfect layered dough balls shaped like roses, soon to be rolled into parathas, like the chef Kunal Kapoor showed in his video, I was in complete awe of myself. ‘How do you do this Medha? You are a perfect doctor, a perfect wife, a perfect home-maker, a perfect mother and now a perfect chef !’, my heart and brain were both full of my own praise and I started rolling those dough flowers into parathas. Soon the layers started merging into a single layer like the famous idiom of a crumbling cookie. But luckily when they were cooked on the tawa, they did somewhat look like Malabari parathas as if saving grace.
Whenever I ate Malabari parathas in Davangere during my medical college days it was with kadla curry. No need to say that I did not have soaked chickpeas as my special expeditions to kitchen always happen at the spur of the moment. I decided to settle for palak paneer and of course if you are a seasoned cook, you guessed it right; it was aloo palak.
When I finished my ordeal working in the freezingly cold kitchen I realized that what I had were not-so-perfectly made Malabari parathas; and aloo palak instead of kadla curry.
I plated them and served them to the people of the house who had heard the name of ‘the one which shall not be named’ dish more times than the number of parathas I had actually made.
The teenager son said ‘mom, it is really tasty’. I thought that I passed the exam at least by minimum marks as he is always a nice and hungry boy.
Then my ever-supportive husband said ‘why do you think it is not perfect? it is fabulous’. My husband who is always submerged in work saying this meant that I may have done a decent job. But the proof of the pudding came from my daughter. She generally doesn’t eat. If she eats, she doesn’t eat well. If she eats well, she doesn’t compliment. But that day she said ‘mom, it is very good’.
What can I say? Imaginary tears rolled down my eyes because I did not have the patience to sit and cry as I was busy eating the fruit of my labor.
We may not be perfect in anything we do. But doing even average job of everything can make our life almost perfect as we are not even aiming at perfection. Moreover it is the people in our lives and not anything else, that makes our mundane boring life worthy.
