A home makers Diary: the Coverpage10:07 AM
When I was young I never thought of doing many a things that I happily do these days i.e. after marriage. Being grown up in Santiniketan (a place founded by Rabindranath Tagore in west Bengal, http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Santiniketan) I always knew I have a creative side in me. I just enjoyed learning different forms of art and craft and cooking being another form of art didn’t take much time to catch my fancy. Though my Dida (maternal grand mother) and Maa (mother) were very well known for their culinary skills but like all other middle class Bengali girls I only entered kitchen to whip up some breakfast items or to cook something fancy. I generally stayed away from Bengali cooking as being a vegetarian I never really enjoyed bong food, which is predominantly non-veg. so whenever any elderly person in the family had asked what would I do if I ever have to cook chachari (Bengali veggie dish cooked with locally grown veggies) or E(n)chor (raw jackfruit curry) and I used to answer that to eat these I will come home to Dida or Maa….
...and then I got married…. And that too to a person who simply craves Bengali home cooked food. So Being a believer of the saying “the way to a man’s heart is through his stomach” I started experimenting Bengali cooking with the tried and tested recipes of Maa and Masimoni (maternal aunt.) and much to my surprise I started getting loads of appreciation for my Bengali dishes too. So I was a happy homemaker whipping up exotic dishes on weekends….
...and then came my niece R. Seeing whom I suddenly realized how different we are compared to our mothers. I could send SOS to Maa whenever my husband requests me to make Macher kalia (fish cooked in spicy gravy) but whom will she resort to in such occasions? I could ask Maa to make some spicy Mango pickle for me but who will make that for niece R if she ever craved that?
That made me starting this blog where I could jot down the Bengali and other tried and tested recipes the way our Mothers have done them. Cause in India things are neither that commercialized nor that affordable yet that every time I make chingri macher malaikari I could pop a can of coconut milk…. here still we have to follow that tedious process of grating the coconut and then taking out the milk using some hot water. (But I pray to God with all my heart that when R will grow up at least she could have that convenience)
So this is an ode to my Maa, Dida, Mashimoni and Pishimoni who have taught me the art of cooking and feeding with love, and also is a commitment to the generation of my niece R so that they could carry on this legacy of home cooked Bengali food.
Apart from that I am here to share some of my creative ideas on art n craft.