Chennai Chef in Chicago!

Once upon a time, there lived a guy with no cooking skills. He used to happily devour his mom's cooking without a worry. He never gave a thought to the process that went behind the screens to make up the heavenly food as he swiped clean plate after plate of delicious mom-cooked food. He imagined he'd happily live like this ever after. Sadly that was not to be.

He made a job change which landed him up in a distant place. That place was so inaccessible that he could visit his home and taste his mom's cooking only once every 3 months. We would have thought that'd have landed him in misery and he'd have learnt how to make delicious food all by himself. No! He found out a mess that catered to his palate, it's cooking almost similar to the place he hailed from. And the office he worked, offered subsidised food and him being in the office the majority of his waking hours, he had no problem. Just that he had to adjust his tastes a little bit but adjust he did. So he and his tummy flourished like before.

One'd think this is a happy story all the way through. No. Many a time the mess dished out food that was a mess and all the kitschy stuff he got elsewhere finally sickened our guy. The guy was not alone. He was staying in an apartment with 3,4 other guys. One of them was kind enough to buy a kitchen (yes, a full kitchen, from stove to all utensils with a gas connection to boot!) and so our guy and his friends had their own lab to experiment. Oh I forgot to tell you, our guy was a coffee addict. So for starters he stirred up his coffee by himself. This guy may have been a novice, but his roommates were a little bit more experienced in the art of cooking having moved out of their homes a bit earlier in their lives. And with a kitchen available, our hero and his friends started trying their hand at cooking atleast twice in a month. And one person among the roommates suddenly found it necessary to learn North Indian cooking. He was good at sambhar and curry before, but now he started making parathas too! One can never tell when a man will start doing odd things but why he does some thing out of his nature is much easier to figure. Oops! I am digressing here. Anyway coming back to our story, good home cooked food was not a once-in-three-month rarity anymore. Also our hero got to start learning the art of cooking, eventhough it was nothing much. He knew how to boil rice, make coffee and stir up an odd sambhar ("vathakuzhambu"-tangy as they come) before, but he got to learn something more. He became a sous-chef in the kitchen, cutting vegetables, boiling rice,washing dishes and the odd stuff.

Ofcourse it is not to say that all his other room mates were more experienced than him. One friend's experience was limited to calling up his parents and informing them, "We cooked X,Y & Z today". Here the stress is on "We". Very much like a leader who takes up the credit and leaves the dirty stuff to the troops. Oh! Again I have moved from the main story. Coming back, our hero never shirked learning and when a willing group was available, he did experiment. In the process, he learnt a few dishes, all South Indian though. He didn't cause himself the need to learn other styles of cooking! ;-)

The story would have ended here, but for the fact that he was again moved from his abode and had to go abroad. There left all alone he began his own practice. He had another person with him who knew very little about cooking and thus became our guy's own martyr. So our guy became a Chef on his own and had enough opportunity to hone his skills. Limited by the boarding amenities provided, his cooking nevertheless became a grand success. Such a success that he didn't have to use the ready made pickles and "mix-it-and-eat-it" stuff at all! Sometime after that he was asked to stay in the new place, a bit longer than was originally perceived. So he had to move out of the existing accommodation. The chef found an apartment which the existing person was willing to share, which is where he now is. So the new person has become our chef's lab rat. The only difference is the new roommate is an expert cook by himself, in North Indian varieties, though. So our Chef is learning some North Indian ishtyle cooking from him.

But the good thing is now the Chef (we can't refer him as a mere 'guy" anymore) has become proficient in south Indian dishes with the help of repeated trials and a willing accomplice in his roommate. He having mastered the basic cooking has passed on to conjuring up exotic dishes, with elan and panache. He makes a call to his mom back in India, gets the recipe, and starts his experiment. The results are invariably met with praise and applause from his room mate. The good roommate sometimes weighs in with a facial expression not unlike the title winning model contestant in a beauty show. This well deserved praise and appreciation from his roommate makes the chef look over the fact that the roommate occasionally scurries elsewhere for dinner after tasting (and praising) the latest concoction of our beloved chef! And the Chef cooks happily ever after!! The only gripe he has is no matter how good he is, he still cannot replicate his mom's cooking.


"mOrkuzhambu" in this picture!

Thus ends the ungarnished saga spanning three cities in two continents. From Chennai to Chicago! The path may have been arduous with many wasted dishes and fallen tasters strewn along the way. But glory has been attained now and the Chef continues in his ventures of trying out more exalted recipes!