Unforgettable is the food that you did not/could not eat at a particular time. We have all had hundreds and thousands of meals and snacks and desserts, eaten, digested, and largely forgotten.
As we say in Hindi- "khaaya peeya hazam kiya".
Can you remember what you ate last Monday evening? Unless it was a special occasion, when you just might remember what you had. I do remember last night's dinner, but only because we had gone out, and had pan fried noodles for the very first time.
A few days ago I was chatting with some friends, one of whom was annoyed because the members of her joint family had finished up her anniversary cake while she was at work, leaving a very tiny bit for her husband and herself. Another friend recalled an episode from her college days. As a post-graduate student, she was sharing an apartment with several other girls. As per their normal practice, on the midnight ushering in her birthday, she cut the cake which all the girls had got for her, which was shared and consumed. Her aunt had also brought her a Black Forest cake, which was untouched, as they had all eaten well. Imagine my friend's chagrin when she came home from college the next day to find two measly slivers of Black Forest left. She must have had several helpings of Black Forest in her life after that, but the unfairness of her flat mates still rankles.
As kids my sister and I would torment our poor mother by constantly raiding the larder and gobbling up all the goodies she had so painstakingly prepared. We were greedy kids, and didn't think of all the effort that had gone into those snacks, which should have lasted longer than we allowed them to. If she thought she had some goodies kept aside for guests, she was usually disappointed, and occasionally embarrassed. We were, sadly, quite shameless, and persisted in our greedy ways.
The one thing that I didn't eat that I can still recall after some forty odd years is a pretty pink and yellow pudding at an aunt's house. My father was fond of this family, and since I was his tail, I would inevitably tag along when he visited them. On this one occasion my sister came along too. (She was usually busy with her own pursuits, being older and probably less 'vela' than I was at the time. I think I was just more sociable, and of course I was Daddy's tail). After some sundry conversation, a tray with the pretty bowls of pudding was brought in and served. My father took one. The tray was offered to my sister, but she kept refusing. Perhaps she was feeling shy.
It was, of course, offered to me too, but, simply because my sister didn't have it, I felt honour bound not to have it. Several polite refusals later, my poor aunt gave up, wondering possibly what had got into this usually good eater! I was, of course, very annoyed with my sister.
So tell me, do you, dear readers have any such unforgettable foods?
I have always saved the "cherry on top of the pie" when it comes to food, as in the aloo of the salan, the pineapple, mushroom of the pizza,the melted cheese chunk of the pasta, I would ferret the chocolates like a squirrel for a rainy day---you know what I mean. And each time my younger sis would just pounce and finish them. I am married to the "youngest" of the family and am going through the trauma again. A wiser person would learn his/her lesson!!
ReplyDelete@aneela: I really feel for you, my dear! Of course, I am the mother who pinches her kids' chocolates, so I do still feel quite guilty, but not enough, you know, to stop me from making further raids!
ReplyDeletePinching your children's chocolates? Hai, hai did watching Mother India not do anything for you. Wait, wasnt this the one where the mother guns down her kid?! sorry, sorry, wrong reference.
ReplyDelete@Aneela: Guilty as charged! And no, I haven't watched Mother India.
ReplyDeleteROFL I was the hoarder and my sons would happily raid my stash of chocolates. The DIL was amazed by the wars of epic proportions fought due to this. (Wonder what tales she told about us to her maika!) Now sadly, I get no chocolate. I have turned to robbing a bit when no one is looking
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ReplyDeleteAneela, I feel your pain. I hoard like a squirrel and Vicky finishes them all up!
ReplyDeleteAh, poor disappointed little tail. :)
ReplyDeleteI have been known to wake up bitterly sorry in the middle of the night that I hadn't more of the great dinner we had been served hours earlier. I think I should just not say more on the subject.
Of course - the gojas ( shakarparas ) that Ma used to make and hide so assiduously and which I used to ferret out with dexterity . The imli ka achaar with the right taste of sour and sweet and the mutton curry from the fridge . Oh such bliss .
ReplyDeleteOh and I happily steal the girls'chocolates left and right esp if its dark chocolate .
ReplyDelete@Phoenixritu: My kids are upset more because of my diabetes than because they want to hog all the chocs themselves. I think they grew up with far more available chocolate than I did, which is why I find it so hard to resist!
ReplyDelete@Sue: I also agonize over what looked so much nicer going to the other table!!! My sympathies!
@eve's lungs: We are kindred souls- comrades in chocolate thievery!
Very interesting post.The examples were those that one could easily relate to.
ReplyDeleteSo many of them! But the food that my hubby used to get packed for our long drives when we were dating, I think nothing's ever tasted better than that! Except ma ke haath ka khana, which is what I miss most about life before marriage.
ReplyDeleteAmong the unforgettable, uneaten food memories, there's this one about one time when my M-I-L gave away a fresh pack of petha that my aunt had got from Agra because my husband loves it. She gave all of it away to the sweeper because she didn't know where it had come from! Bad case of miscommunication.
Your blog brought back a memory that I didn't know I had! On my 12th birthday, someone gave me a bar of chocolate and I left it behind in the car. And of course, my brothers found it and ate it. I was furious but it was too late, of course.
ReplyDeleteSadly now that chocolate is freely available, I seem to have lost my taste for it. :-(
So true, Dipali. The food consumed is digested, but the food unconsumed is never forgotten.
ReplyDeleteI remember a wedding reception I went to soon after my wedding. There were yummy kakori kababs, but my mother in law wanted me to stay veg to keep her company, and 13 years and several kakori kababs later, I still remember those.
You are totally spot on when you say the food you did not eat remains unforgettable..
ReplyDeleteI was at a birthday party once. Those days I observed a fast on tuesdays and the birthday happened to be on that day. I took my daughter to the party resolved not to break my fast. The party was at a fancy restaurant and the food served included delicious chicken tandoor, they looked very juicy and my daughter and husband testified that they were very tasty. I stuck to my resolution though and the first thing that came to my mind when i read your blog was that party.
I hide the cashews in the house. Otherwise whenever I need to make the kheer, I find it has been polished off!! And like you I did not eat some chocolate doughnuts as a kid ( I was shy!!!) and I can still picture them to this day!
ReplyDelete@Sanand: Thank you!
ReplyDelete@D: How sad:(
@nitya:There are so many such tragedies:(
@Rayna M.Iyer: Exactly- those kebabs become unforgettable!
@TheGirlNextDoor: What remarkable will power you displayed!
@radha: Some things have to be kept away safely:)
Ice cream after my weekly jog. Plus usual intake of meat. :)
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