Party on my timeline!

Thank you all for your love! 

(Photos by Amruta Nargundkar)

When I was growing up, my birthday was rarely celebrated on the date.

I was born on the day of Diwali. Mother doesn’t tire telling everyone that I was born at the most auspicious hour of Lakshmi Pooja muhurt- on the most important day of Diwali- which is the most significant and favourite festival for most Indians. Thence, it was always a double celebration for the family at Diwali with my birthday thrown in.

My grouse that we didn’t do anything on the “real” birth day,  could not stand up to Mother’s most enthusiastic, “Look, the whole world is celebrating your birthday on Diwali! The best day of all days!”

My first memory of a celebration was in kindergarten are around half moon karanjis and a return gift for each child of a notebook and pencil. I have a memory of Mother bringing in a steel container of those home- made karanjis for the class kids of Shishu Vihar. I also remember she had got with her my “birthday frock” and dolled me up at school.

But perhaps I didn’t need to rack my memory. This became one of the umpteen and oft-quoted anecdotes of Mother’s about her special sartor, the traitorous “always late Yadgiri Tailor”. It seems he had once again broken his promise on the delivery of the beautiful baby pink Hakoba lace frock, but Mother had sat in his shop (in Indian parlance- on his head!) till he finished sowing the last button on.

When I look at my childhood photos, I realise those tailored frocks were really pretty. In my world now a tailored frock for a kid would be considered an uber luxury. However, the little me considered it not cool. All my thin, slim friends could fit into “readymade” dresses. But not me, as they didn’t make plus sizes in kids clothes – for that matter in any ready to wear clothes.

So when an uncle gifted a ready made frock from an upmarket kids’ store called “Little Shoppe” one birthday, my joy knew no bounds. Moreover, it was a boxed gift, wrapped in shiny paper.

Very like the birthday a Pinky or Deepu from Hindi films would receive.

The box contained all the excitement and charm of the little red frock Jaya Bhaduri got from a doting brother in the film Guddi. I felt so fashionable! So posh!

The frock and the joy didn’t last long as it burst at the seams the first time I tried it on. I insisted it fit me very well, but Mother wouldn’t hear my pleas to mend the split sides.

It was not worth it, according to her, but certainly was worth spending one afternoon fashioning out a shopping bag out of it.

My ideal birthday party was only found on silver screen. There was something so compelling about the kids parties in the Hindi films of my childhood.  I am talking about the song and dance (the Twist!) routine, the short frocks and white long-johns and shoes, the party games, twisted paper streamers, concertina garlands and speckled balloons kind of a party. There would be an array of toys and gifts on a table and sweets and samosas. Turbaned and cummerbunded and funny waiting staff went around serving orange and rose coloured drinks to all the little guests!

On my 14^th birthday, my last one while in school, I insisted on having a birthday party for my school friends, for which Mother and Dada did their best. Dada made mixed out wonderful milk shakes for the girls in our newly acquired Sumeet Mixer, a novelty for us in those days.  A few years older to me and a real charmer, he had a field day with the girls.

That was the time when I was into Mills and Boons romances, so I got 7 of those as gifts from my friends. That seemed like a treasure, but when one considered that we would knock one down in an hour and a while, this trove wouldn’t have lasted long, I suppose.

Having said that, there was something thrilling about being the first one to read a brand new book. 

Unfortunately, my memory of this perfect birthday is marred, for I never got to read all those books ultimately. Most of the girls bullied me into lending them all but one of those books saying I wouldn’t be reading all of them that night. For some reason, I don’t remember reading the rest. Maybe there was a reason?

For a long time in between, birthdays were lost in life’s Bermuda triangle of growing up, negotiating relationships and managing expectations and dealing with disappointments. 

Until my golden 50^th last year.

This was a turning point, half time perhaps – as my little one would say. As a kid my Appu thought everyone lived for 100 years, and each year on my birthday she would count backwards, frowning a little less each year as she improved her mental math skills, trying to figure out how many more years I had before I turned 100.

My 50^th birthday was a turning point, when I can say I learnt to unabashedly enjoy the day and lap up the love that came my way.

I realise I don’t have half time exactly – so why not!

This birthday was a quiet celebration on the family front. A birthday cake lovingly baked by my firstborn, a cosy dinner at the Coconut Lagoon, phone calls from loved ones… 

What made this birthday most memorable was the gush of greetings and wishes, the outpour of love and affection from my friends and family on my timeline and inbox on Facebook, email, SMS, phone and even LinkedIn!

Thank you all my dear folks for the “party” on my timeline and in my favourite food groups – replete with streamers, paper chains, speckled balloons and glitter; with boxed gifts nudging a huge birthday cake!

So blessed, so privileged, so fulfilled to be loved so this birthday! Who needs another 49?!

In our typical Indian style, I am ending this on a sweet note – with a falooda that I had made for my Amu’s birthday some months ago.  

Falooda

Ingredients

1cup vermicelli

4 glasses chilled full cream milk (try not to boil the milk, if you can)

Sugar/sweetener as required

6 tsp sabza seeds (basil seeds)

8-10 tbsp rose syrup

6 scoops of vanilla ice cream

1 packet red coloured (any flavour) jelly (I used a vegetarian one!)

½ cup chopped pistachios

½ cup chopped almonds

6 strawberries (optional)

Method

Set the jelly according to package instructions.

Cook the vermicelli in boiling water till al dente. Drain and rinse in cold water and chill in refrigerator till needed.

Mix the rose syrup and the crushed cardamom with the milk and add sugar/sweetener only if required.  If you are confident about the milk you are using, try to use it without boiling it. It tastes better! Chill in the refrigerator.

Soak the basil/sabza seeds in a bowl and pour enough water over them to completely submerge. When they swell and look like blobs of jelly with small black dot in the centre, strain and keep aside.

To assemble the falooda

Frost 6 tall glasses. Divide the cooked vermicelli between all the glasses. Add a few spoons of jelly. Repeat the same with the soaked sabza seeds. Pour the milk over them, taking it up to the three-fourths level. Add a scoop of ice cream to each glass and drizzle with some more rose syrup if required.

Garnish with chopped almonds and pistachios. Place a sliced strawberry over each glass and serve with a straw and a long spoon.

Facebook food fraternities

 Methamba मेथांबा (Sweet and sour mango relish)

For the last year or so, Facebook foodie groups have been the newfound playing fields for me. Logging on to FB, I invariably turn to these groups before checking out updates and newsfeeds. This is no ogling food porn! I log onto them all the time, post- prandial, too - for they are more than just for food!

These groups have a sweet support system of appreciation and commiseration. One feels chuffed and at times overwhelmed by the positive response of friends and readers. Then there is the tartness of teasing and tongue-in-cheek poking fun between friends. Often the savouriness of sallying a dish critically leads to a healthy discussion and loads of learning. The trace ticking off bordering on the bitter heightens all tastes and brings friends together with tenacity and renewed resolves!

Kuch Khatta, Kuch Mitha aur Kuch Teekha, an active and interesting foodie group on FB recently celebrated its first anniversary. What a phenomenal growth the group has had! Just one short of the magic number 3333 – a minute ago when I checked on its page!

When Donna Pinto, the talented and enthusiastic matriarch of the group asked me to post a recipe that signatures the group’s name, I knew instantly what I was going to post- this lip-smacking, tongue clicking raw mango relish called ‘methamba’ in Marathi!

The word methamba is a combination of two words, methi meaning fenugreek and amba meaning mango. This saucy relish is not limited to sour and bitter of the two eponymous contents, with jaggery adding sweetness, the chilli heating it and the salt catalysing the coming together of all the tastes.

This used to be made almost as a temporary side dish- like a gap filler before the preserves in their porcelain jars or martabans on the annual pilgrimage were ready to be consumed after a few days or so of starting to pickle in the brine and spice.

But their temporality was not a concern at all, for a methamba was hardly ever going to be left unfinished to go bad!

Try this and see how long it lasts in the jar! You won’t rest until the last of it has been carefully scraped out of the jar!

Methamba

Ingredients

2 cups raw green mango, peeled, deseeded and diced
¾ tsp powdered methi  (fenugreek seeds)
½ cup grated jaggery or brown sugar OR half jaggery and half sugar (adjust according to the sourness of the mango)
2 -3 tsp kashmiri red chilli powder (or more)
½ tsp mustard seeds
2 tbsp oil (or more)
¼ tsp hing (asafoetida)

¼ tsp haldi (turmeric)
Salt to taste

Method

Heat the oil in a pan and add the mustard seeds to it. Once the seeds start to splutter, add the methi powder, hing and turmeric and add the raw mango cubes immediately without letting the spices burn. Allow the mango to cook for a few minutes. You can add a little water if the mixture starts to dry out and burn, but in the interest of a longer shelf life add some more oil. Well, not that this will linger on for long! Then add the jaggery and allow it to dissolve in the mixture fully. You need to move the mixture around to mix it well, but try not to mash it too fine as a little texture adds some drama to the methamba. Now add the red chilli powder and see the mixture turn a brilliant red when the oil gets tinted gloriously by the chilli powder. Check and adjust the salt, chilli powder and jaggery. The mixture is supposed to be a combo of sweet/sour/spicy. Once ready the methamba will get this glossy and saucy translucence. Remove from the heat and let it cool. Store in a clean and dry glass or porcelain jar and refrigerate the leftover.

Methamba is great with roti, bread, masala poori, thalipeeth, dosas and chillas of all descriptions and also in a burger!