Bong Spicery

Mood swings have not been uncommon for me, often stuck in conundrums. My sister told me it is supposed to be a post menopausal syndrome and women of our mother's age have it. For women of my age(early 20s), some of us who happen to be emotional eaters, the reason should be the craving for our acquaintance with the right food at the right time. The right aroma of the right spice at the right time is a royal feeling, that could enchant food lovers like me,  transforming the mood entirely.

Frankly, I don't know where to begin from. You must have heard of the terms ' well travelled' or ' well read'. I am ' well-fed' !! And the tale of my love affair with food begins from mum's kitchen. A bong ma's kitchen

shelves are lined up with jars of 'panch-foron', ' shukno lonka', 'tej pata', 'holud' , 'kalo jeera', cumin seeds, 'hing' etc. No 'Bhajohari Ranna'(one of Bengal's oldest n most popular restaurants) could stand in competition with mom's 'macher-jhol' (fish curry with very little spice) specially done with the intoxicating essence of 'panch foron' in the pungent smelling mustard oil, whose predominance makes the dish so elating. I have been trying to decode the real recipe behind this, having failed several times even using the same ingredients used by her(she is a swift cook and uses some secret anecdotes, I believe!!). Since, I am still waiting to begin my life as a professional, I have loads of time and don't mind failing few more attempts in my free time, as long as the rattlings of 'panch foron' and 'sukno lonka' in the hot mustard oil continue to please my eardrums and the strong essence, seduce my olfactory system.

One of the radio channels was playing Manna Dey. 'Na na Jeo Naa' . It was the evening of Shankranti. The big bowl of off whitish earthy 'pithe-payesh' boiled lazily, in rhythm with the 70s song. Mum lowered the flame and left it to boil in its own speed, while she sang to the radio in a soothing soft voice of the black n

white era. It was perfect like her recipes. 'Pithe's  stuffed with lot of grated coconut in jaggery dipped in the 'payesh' ...sheer heaven for me!

There was a time when I hated the taste or smell of  chilli in any dish. It was only after I came in college and several riots with our cook(who hardly knew how to cook) I learnt the importance of hotness. Ok, I don't mind relating 'hotness' and 'college' for sometime . But seriously, no girl could show the hotness in 1st year of engineering. It was ragging session for the first 6 months or so, when every women had to come decent in Salwar-kameez and necessarily with 'dupattas', with all this leaving me a little frustrated after college. And back home, not wanting to eat the tasteless food cooked by 'mashi' made my mum introduce me to a simple combo of rice,few drops of mustard oil, a green chilli and a pinch of salt, all mashed together. It was an illuminating moment for me and I could finish my full plate with that. I loved the flavour of green chilli and now I can't do without 1 every meal. In hands of a cook like mum, even hotness can become pretty palatable, and help me get over my negative emotions, with the chilli perhaps chilling down my anger.


Having come in touch with our Malayam tenant, in the last few years, who also happened to be a teacher in my school, there has been an exchange of culture and food. Coincidentally, my mother has been a fan of South Indian dishes. I still pack dosa's back home for mum whenever I visit a South Indian restaurant. The 2 men in their family happen to be traditional experts in cooking their stuff. Bengali men could hardly imagine themselves in kitchen, every morning, making 20-25 chapattis, for the entire family before leaving for work! Yes, they are em-ee-en=men! An unusual "South Indian Chicken Curry" as they call it, the sweet and sour aroma with the slightness of curry leaves, coming from their kitchen aroused my voracious inner devil called ''Greed'' so much that I went down to ask them what they were cooking and it smelt so nice. In sometime, they came up to give us a bowl of the chicken curry! Later on, I used this trick(rather shamelessness) a couple of times to get few more bowls. Though I have stopped acting shameless recently, the very smell of the curry on weekends boils down my stress quickly. Call it magic, maya, or just Damn Good Curry; it has certainly put a spell on me!!