Thursday, November 19, 2009

One Season Lost - A Baab Tale

There is a proverb about apples not falling far from their trees. Here is some more proof  (while you read it, Mrs. and Mr. Porcupyn are having a <em>discussion</em> as to who is the apple tree referred to above):

Grandfather was trying to fix Katya's broken toy. After a few minutes, he gave up and declared, "Hmmm ... (a) spring is missing".  Immediately, Baab piped up: "Amma, that means we will be short a whole season!!"

Monday, November 2, 2009

On samosas ... and an enterprising vendor

So there we were, waiting at a station platform for our train - the mighty Karnataka Express with two engines and 24 compartments - to arrive. Not having had much of a chance to taste <a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/tracyhunter/289026345/">authentic roadside food</a> ;-) the last few trips to India, this time I thought I might as well check it out, especially since I had already digested most of the full lunch I had eaten at home before starting out.

As luck would have it, the food stall at the platform was making fresh <a href="http://memsaab.com/onion-kachori-recipe">kachories</a>; however, my eyes were on the <a href="http://www.indiamarks.com/guide/Samosas:-Fried-Indian-Vegetable-Pastries/188">samosas</a>. Obviously, I wanted steaming hot samosas. So, I asked the shopkeeper how long would it be before he would make hot samosas. He replied that right now they were working on kachories; how many did I want? I said that all I wanted was a couple. "No problem," he said.

Even as my eyes were roving around for a microwave (with the country improving by leaps and bounds, I felt that that thought was not as far-fetched as it appears), he took two samosas that were ready for sale and dunked them into the hot oil. After a couple of minutes, I held two hot, refried, dripping-oil-onto-an-old-newspaper-fragment samosas in my hands. Of course, I enjoyed them (Mrs. Porcupyn averted her eyes - not only could she not eat those savories herself, she could not bear to see me eat them either), though I had to drain a teaspoonful of oil just before I had the last bite (no, I am NOT kidding)!

Now, in hindsight, I wonder whether that approach would have worked in the USA? Probably not. Had I had asked for hot Krispy Kreme glazed doughnuts (see picture <a href="http://javajones-mylife.blogspot.com/2009/05/five-things-i-have-done-for-myself.html">here</a> and a video <a href="http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=dEoaq9oEkP4">here</a>) when <a href="http://www.krispykreme.co.uk/doughnuts/our-varieties/glazed-cruller/">french crullers</a> were being made, the answer would have been an unequivocal "No" or "Please come back tomorrow morning at 6 am" or some such. Score one for the enterprising Indian shopkeeper(s).

<em>PS: The hot refried platform samosas having whetted my appetite for samosas, I could not contain myself and helped myself to a few more at different station halts during the course of our 20-hour journey. Even Baab partook a small piece once, in defiance of his mother's orders! Please note that this behaviour is strictly not recommended for a "First World" stomach, unless you are prepared for a <a href="http://eatingasia.typepad.com/eatingasia/2009/08/delhi-belly.html">Delhi belly</a>.</em>