Posted in Daily, Food

Food, Flame and Wine

When the major Sunday luncheon is hosted at home, cooking for the week seems like a drag, especially when it includes packing school lunches. While lunch is managed by sandwiches, with esurient appetites dinner isn’t so light an affair. Moreover when one has an unexpected surprise when good old family friends pop over for a visit long overdue; the topic of dinner has to be a quick, palatable meal with few but good dishes. That’s when a couple of wine bottles ( in lieu of the holiday season), rice and chicken came in handy. The adding of wine to the flavours of food is like a sharp edged sword. Wine has the potential to enhance a meal or completely ruin it with a debatable concoction of flavours.

“If you do not have a good wine to use, it is far better to omit it, for a poor one can spoil a simple dish and utterly debase a noble one.” Julia Child

As far as wine is concerned, the drinking wine is good enough to be added to the cooking process instead of solely investing in cooking wine. In short if you like to drink it, then use it in meals. Else, just don’t. The drinkable wine should be clean, fresh and if it’s stored in the refrigerator uncorked even for two weeks, it can be used as long as long it is drinkable wine. Sweeter the wine, better in sauces and recipes, even desserts as well.

Wine acts as a partial substitute for the use of oil in cooking. While the usual method is to saute vegetables in butter or oil (good for kids); a smaller amount of oil with some wine for flavor and moisture can do a subtle twist to the regular flavour. For marinades, most of the times decreasing the oil to half of the regular and replacing that amount with wine makes a good substitute for the dietary fat watchers.

As wine connoisseurs know, there are different types of drinking wines. They are the light and dark ones, the white and red wines as well as the sweet wines and dry ones as well. All these wines make their difference to the regular meals by their subtle flavours. Which is why, some wines are paired with certain foods. For instance, white wine works best with dishes based on melon, apple, mushrooms, pineapples, citrus and the vanilla flavoured desserts, whereas red wine goes well with cherries, peaches, plums, chocolate and coffee.

Another general rule is that a light-flavored wine is paired best with delicately flavored foods. As far as meat is concerned, white wine works well dishes of chicken, turkey, fish or veal; white dark coloured wines especially red wine goes well with highly seasoned foods like beef, pork, duck or even goose. For the main course rice or pasta, it is question of light (or white) or dark (like red) wines, though the latter is best for heavier or spicier preparations. A less good wine is better for slow cooking recipes like stew than quick pan meals when deglazing which happens in minutes is the final touch. Another technique used by seasoned chefs is to add a small dash of better wine at the end of a long braise. The quandary in choosing which is the better wine will be solved when the entire recipe is taken into consideration.

As far as desserts are concerned, the cake batter can be given a more airy sweeter feel when a cup of white wine is added to it, replacing a little of the regular proportion of oil. Only concern with wine based desserts or even meals, is that it’s off limits for children, pregnancy and non-alcohol drinkers. In short, wine provides a delicious twist to the regular meal. Learning through experimentation during the quiet meals, helps one keep wine as a handy measure to add the twist when required. Which is why wine has a role in the simple, basic dishes of the kitchen to the major role between, before and after meals as well.

Posted in Family and Society, Personal Musings, poetry, Quotes

Of Chances and Connections

As a part of the routine work, one of the projects involved setting up base in a nearby town for a week. While stopping by for a quick lunch at the cafe down street, the feeling of familiarity was strong. That sense of déjà vu was quite strong. It was while leaving the cafe, I had realized that among the group of ladies seated across my table was the classmate of my school days. Those were the days, years ago and seas apart, a world different when we were residing in states far away from the present. Thus realized, there was conformation of person, exchange of present news and in consequence numbers and details. If it were not for the pause, the old connection would never have been renewed.

“For a split second they stared at each other. A fleeting, lasting moment. One person noticing another person out of a whole crowd of strangers.” Alexandra Potter

Finding connections and meeting points, we being humans need the feeling of connectedness from time to time. In a room of strangers, we need the “pauses”, “spaces” as well as “sharing of joys and sorrows” from time to time. Though personal lines have to be drawn; occasional cross-over helps one to move through especially when in despair. Over time, one realizes that life is all the connectedness that we all weave around us. At times, to find ourselves back in he “happy place” all one needs to do is to reconnect and re-experience the best days of the yesteryear to recharge for the present.

“People are guests in our story, the same way we are guests in theirs. But we all meet each other for a reason because every person is a personal lesson waiting to be told.” Lauren Klarfeld

Meeting Point

Time was away and somewhere else,
There were two glasses and two chairs
And two people with the one pulse
(Somebody stopped the moving stairs):
Time was away and somewhere else.

And they were neither up nor down;
The stream’s music did not stop
Flowing through heather, limpid brown,
Although they sat in a coffee shop
And they were neither up nor down.

The bell was silent in the air
Holding its inverted poise—
Between the clang and clang a flower,
A brazen calyx of no noise:
The bell was silent in the air.

The camels crossed the miles of sand
That stretched around the cups and plates;
The desert was their own, they planned
To portion out the stars and dates:
The camels crossed the miles of sand.

Time was away and somewhere else.
The waiter did not come, the clock
Forgot them and the radio waltz
Came out like water from a rock:
Time was away and somewhere else.

Her fingers flicked away the ash
That bloomed again in tropic trees:
Not caring if the markets crash
When they had forests such as these,
Her fingers flicked away the ash.

God or whatever means the Good
Be praised that time can stop like this,
That what the heart has understood
Can verify in the body’s peace
God or whatever means the Good.

Time was away and she was here
And life no longer what it was,
The bell was silent in the air
And all the room one glow because
Time was away and she was here.

By Louis MacNeice

(Source: The Collected Poems of Louis MacNeice (Oxford University Press, 1967)
Louis MacNeice, “Meeting Point” from The Collected Poems of Louis MacNeice. Copyright © 1967 by Louis MacNeice.)

Posted in Christian, Daily, Family and Society, Personal Musings

Cracked but Reinforced…

While putting a fresh coat of paint on the fence, my mother had redone her flowerpots. Due to the ever-present heat, some of them had tiny cracks, while others had deep ones. Yet after sanding in, filling in the cracks and with a fresh coat of paint, the new look had given a new lease of colours to the garden.

“But we have this treasure in jars of clay to show that this all-surpassing power is from God and not from us.” (2 Corinthians 4:7 )

At times, we too behave like clay pots. Life, with all it’s experiences and lessons creates those inevitable cracks. While some are tiny and don’t weather us; others tends to break one apart. Not just to the external forces, but he internal pressure as well starts off those cracks. When rescued in time, these cracks heal better and give each of us a fresh spurt. Yet when the cracks go deep, leaning towards His Help for the final fresh coat of paint after being sanded and filled helps one to get back and brings colour to the garden.

Being of earth, we all have our cracks. Learning to heal them at the right time, helps us to stay on strong. Being human, the inner frailty, weakness and powerlessness is inevitable. Yet through His Grace and His Mercy, each of us receive the strength and courage to face life renewed. To receive His Help, one has to be receptive, abide in His Word and above all, have immense Faith that thins will all work out as long as His Hope stays strong. For no pot can ever be lost if the potter decides not to. Just as the potter shapes each pot from clay, so does he strengthen them when they weaken and remold them better to face the challenges of life as they come by.

Posted in Food, Stories Around the World

Soft, Gooey and Halwa

One of the best things about school holidays is the staying with grandparents. Come summer, it is the time to make not just jams, pickles, fruits syrups and squash but also time to make “halwa”. Making halwa was an elaborate activity. Measuring out the ingredients, dry fruits and getting the big vessels ready to make it, kept us, the grandchildren occupied.

“Halva. Name of a hugely varied range of confections made in the Middle East, Central Asia, and India, derived from the Arabic root hulw, sweet. In 7th century Arabia, the word meant a paste of dates kneaded with milk. By the 9th century, possibly by assimilating the ancient Persian sweetmeat afroshag, it had acquired a meaning of wheat flour or semolina, cooked by frying or toasting and worked into a more or less stiff paste with a sweetening agent such as sugar syrup, date syrup, grape syrup, or honey by stirring the mass together over a gentle heat. Usually a flavouring was added such as nuts, rosewater, or pureed cooked carrots (still a popular flavouring). The finished sweetmeat would be cut into bars or moulded into fanciful shapes such as fish. Halva spread both eastwards and westwards, with the result that is is made with a wide variety of ingredients, methods, and flavourings…” -Oxford Companion to Food, Alan Davidson [Oxford University Press:Oxford] 1999(p.367)

This dense, sweet confection believed to have originated in the Middle East, Central and South Asia is popularly known as halva or halwa, with varying local names. While written records of halva recipes have been in the Arabic Kitab al-Tabikh (The Book of Dishes, early 13th century), these recipes may have been there in the traditional cuisine well before then. These desserts are essentially of two types, flour based or nut butters based.

Relatively more popular in the South Asia, these flour based halvas are slightly gelatinous and made from grain flour (semolina or suji) with other basic ingredients like clarified butter, sugar or honey, dry fruits and flavouring syrups like rose water. The flour is fried in oil, mixing it into a roux and then cooked with a sugary syrup making it into a gelatinous flour based consistency.

Selmolina based halva include the popular Turkish un helvası. Usually made with wheat semolina, sugar or honey, butter or vegetable oil along with raisins, dates, other dried fruits, nuts like almonds or walnuts. This halva is very sweet, of a gelatinous texture with a rich, heavenly feel. The Indian halva recipes primarily use flour with melted butter or ghee and sugar (optional use of acacia gum). Made in various colours ranging from bright orange, red, green to brown and black; they have a gelatinous appearance and are flecked with raisins, cashew nuts, pistachios, almonds and even sesame seeds. Vegetable based recipes (to replace the flour) are there like the popular carrot halwa (gajjar halwa), mung beans halwa (moong dal halwa), doodi halwa (bottle gourd halwa), beetroot halwa to name a few. These are usually prepared with condensed milk and ghee with sugar added to give a moist, flaky texture when freshly prepared. In fact, there are numerous variations of halwa present in the Indian subcontinent with each flavour having its own special appeal.

Other flour based halwas include the Greek cornstarch-gelatinous halva, the Zanzibarian rice flour and coconut milk halva and the Burmese delicacy of Pathein halwa, a dairy-based rice flour halva.

The other variety of halva are nut butter-based. They are made from grinding the oily seeds to paste like consistency like the sesame paste (tahini), sunflower seed butter paste, mixed with hot syrupy sugar cooked to hard-crack state. It can be made crumbly as well. This type is more popular in the Mediterranean, Central Asian and Middle Eastern cuisine and has special tales of its’ own to weave.

“Halwa Al.
Two pounds of sugar, half a pound of bees’ honey, half a bound of sesame oil and four ounces of starch. Stir it middling fine [one the fire until it takes consistency, then spread it on a smooth tile]. Put four ounces of sugar on it, and three ounces of finely pounded pistachios, and musk and rose-water: Spread this filling on it, then cover it with another cloak of halwa and cut it up into triangles. It is as delicious as can be. If you wish, make the filling into meatballs like luqma [luqmat al-qadi], and cover it was the mentioned halawa, and it is saciniyya.” -Medieval Arab Cookery: Essays and Translations, by Maxime Rodinson, A.J. Arberry & Charles Perry [Prospect Books:Devon] 2001 (p. 456)

All said and done, halva, whether bought from the market, made at home or sent from grandma; it carries a ton of memories, nostalgia and a feeling of happiness starting from the first bite itself.  For in every generation, these sweet or savoury (as to own taste) delicacies have delighted and captivated both the old and the young, the weight-watchers and the food-lovers and all those in between and far apart. Little wonder why then, this tradition and culture of halva still lives on over the centuries.

Posted in Christian, Daily, Family and Society, Life, Personal Musings, Reflections

The Truest Form

The morning fiasco was marked by the hunt for red crayons, golden hearts and lots of pink, green and blue colour pencils. En route to the routine drop to school, my kindergartener enlightened me on the activities planned for the day. The story of St. Valentine in English class, valentine cards to be drawn in art class and as for math  ” to count the stars, hearts, flowers and candy”!! With all these information occupying my immediate gray memory cells, coffee break was another discussion of valentine day’s special offers, discounts and reminiscences of past days.

“There are all kinds of love in this world but never the same love twice.” F. Scott Fitzgerald

As the mid-day of February approaches, there is a lot of activities around this. While the focus is targeted primarily on young love, one must remember that there are all sorts of love in this world. The joy of new parents on receiving their wrapped bundle in labour rooms, the joy of the first few lurchy steps of the toddler, quiet concern between friends on the announcement of exam results, celebrations over the first match win, sacrifice of sleep hours of a night shift nurse to babysit her niece and many more instances are there in the world around us. All these are different forms and sorts of love.

“Love is like the wind, you can’t see it but you can feel it.” Nicholas Sparks

Each of us is surrounded by love. It may be manifest in many ways. From the occasional hugs from our parents, help from our spouses, efforts of our family and friends when we face a tough day, the boss’ agreement for a work in from home when the kids fall sick or an aunts’ help in designing the fancy dress costume when mom is out of town or the warm circle of child arms around us when we are tired. All these acts of help, sacrifice, kindness and care involve an amount of love. Love doesn’t necessarily mean expensive gifts, date nights, trips out of the country and the like; though the above are all really lovely experiences.

As O’ Henry’s “Gift of the Magi” shows love doesn’t mind that extra mile. Whether it be sacrifice, more time, energy or sleep hours; love makes that extra miles of effort worth it. Such is the love that we all should strive to harbour close to ourselves. Such love should be cherished, appreciated and shared around; for this love lights up dreary hearts and brings ray of light to dull, dark dingy hours or even days.

“Love is patient, love is kind. It does not envy, it does not boast, it is not proud. It does not dishonor others, it is not self-seeking, it is not easily angered, it keeps no record of wrongs. Love does not delight in evil but rejoices with the truth. It always protects, always trusts, always hopes, always perseveres.” (1 Corinthians 13:4-7)

Posted in Life, Personal Musings, poetry, Reflections

The Flashes, the Pain and the Past

“Memories warm you up from the inside. But they also tear you apart.” Haruki Murakami

Waiting in the queue for a break in the traffic, the eyes had wandered over to the playground where a couple of teens were busy with their mock football match at one end. At the far end, a few were playing throw-ball. In the midst of the latter game, a heated argument followed by a flurry of fists resulting in two players walking off. Seeing these scenes triggered off the memory of the middle school wherein peer gangs were rampant and gangs were the norm. Selection for sports as well as arts revolved around the factor of being in the know or the select few. If a art geek decided to enroll for the selection in the softball team, putting the name down would be like writing in the water and similar for a football defender who liked to indulge their culinary urge. Watching my nieces and nephews as they go through their middle school, the bite of those yesteryear still sting but lessons learnt were valuable for life.

“Memories are bullets. Some whiz by and only spook you. Others tear you open and leave you in pieces.” Richard Kadrey

All of us have our cache of “bad memories”. Some we tend to carry along through the childhood to the adult phase. While others we may bury them, only that they tend to surface intermittently especially when least expected. There are those days that no matter how hard one tries, they gray clouds linger and cast shadows in the mind. 

“I have learned that if you must leave a place that you have lived in and loved and where all your yesteryears are buried deep, leave it any way except a slow way, leave it the fastest way you can. Never turn back and never believe that an hour you remember is a better hour because it is dead. Passed years seem safe ones, vanquished ones, while the future lives in a cloud, formidable from a distance.” Beryl Markham

Dealing with those harsh memories requires one to acknowledge it, accept it and make the stern choice to move on. To forget them may be really difficult, but learning to deal with them is a must. Those cliches and gangs of middle school still exist in the adult world, albeit in a more subtle manner. The choice is to learn and then move on. Getting trapped in one phase for long, results in the soul being frozen by the rampant thoughts. While one can’t do anything about the passed years, the reaction and choice of the present lies in own hands and how deals with the circumstances. As the bad moments crowd, the purpose of the present would be to make new memories suffused with warmth, joy and laughter to live the hours of now as well as tide over the future.

Memory

Memory engulfed so much evil,
without a count or bounds.
All the time life lied and lied,
there is no more trust in life.

Maybe, there are no cities,
maybe no green gardens,
just lives instead the power of ice,
and the salted oceans.

Maybe, the world is just all snow,
and a starlit road.
Maybe the world is all taiga
in the mind of God.

Varlim Shalimov

Posted in Daily, Reflections, Stories Around the World, Work

Merge the Angles

“An ant can’t define shape of an elephant solely from its’ point of view. They have to unify all views. It’s a way for ant to understand elephant. In order to understand true realities, men need to do mental blending.” Toba Beta

Prior to starting off another major project, there was the brain-storming session in the office. As the ideas got exchanged, details considered and outcomes were contemplated; there were open disagreements on whether the said plan would work out. Although the fist fight had never happened, the flurried exchange of words was close to a verbal war. Eventually the project details were finalized and set in motion, though the entire discourse reminded one of the importance of bringing the different viewpoints together to bring a consensus to the decision.

“The most fatal illusion is the settled point of view. Since life is growth and motion, a fixed point of view kills anybody who has one.” Brooks Atkinson

Starting from elementary school, there would have been many similar scenarios wherein a squabble breaks out on who is right. The hard part is when both arguing parties are right but not in entirety. That is when reaching the middle ground is important. Finding a consensus and appreciating the other viewpoint teaches one that each person has their different set of experiences. These differences tracks help to bring out the common goal when different views are contemplated and merged together with the understanding that each perspective is important in its own right. As the different notes get harmonized, only then the play can be set to music. Life is never made of a single angle or plane, but an amalgam of varied panorama, angles and slants. Unless viewed as a whole, each of us may miss out on the compete picture.

“We don’t get harmony when everybody sings the same note. Only notes that are different can harmonize. The same is true with people.” Steve Goodier

When I was in elementary school, I got into a major argument with a boy in my class. I have forgotten what the argument was about, but I have never forgotten the lesson I learned that day. I was convinced that “I” was right and “he” was wrong – and he was just as convinced that “I” was wrong and “he” was right. The teacher decided to teach us a very important lesson.
She brought us up to the front of the class and placed him on one side of her desk and me on the other. In the middle of her desk was a large, round object. I could clearly see that it was black. She asked the boy what color the object was. “White,” he answered. I couldn’t believe he said the object was white, when it was obviously black! Another argument started between my classmate and me, this time about the color of the object. The teacher told me to go stand where the boy was standing and told him to come stand where I had been. We changed places, and now she asked me what the color of the object was. I had to answer, “White.”
It was an object with two differently colored sides, and from his viewpoint it was white. Only from my side it was black.
Sometimes we need to look at the problem from the other person’s view in order to truly understand his/her perspective.
Author Unknown
(Source:vk.com)