The World’s Greatest Chef

Cooking is a world over recognized art, which many appreciate, some attempt and a select few excel…those whom are bestowed the title of Chef.

Each of us have our own favorites considered to be our very own “World’s Greatest Chef”; selection criteria ranging from the look, the feel, the aroma, the taste, the presentment and host of others with personal feeling creeping in at every stage prejudicing our every judgment all the while knowing that in the end someone will always say “There’s no greater Chef than Mom”

I beg to differ.

I think that in this world of instant glory and fame there is one person who has mastered the art of cooking, one person who can truly fill your every sense with her creation, one person who labors tirelessly to make sure her works are art are just right, just perfect and just for whom she made it. She seeks no fame yet all know her name.

Anushka.

The World’s Greatest Chef.

From every corner of the world, whether it’s Shepherd’s Pie or Lebanese fare, whether it’s South Indian or Sindhi traditional, even Cheese Toast has a unique and customized flavor to it.

She has been blessed with the ability to conjure a seven course meal from thin air within a few minutes and if there was a 9 course meal she would do that too.

From morning to night, you could try all her creations and each one leaves you wanting more; whether it’s cheese and eggs where she has the “Anushka” trademark on fluffy cheese-du-fromage or if it’s Chicken and Rice for lunch or 3 layer club sandwiches or chicken nuggets and fries, all of it leaves you only craving for more and more….and if you think that that is all she can dish out….you aint seen nothing yet.

She’s the Queen of the Dessert – Tiramisu, Chocolate Mousse, Caramel Custard, A Variety of every possible and impossible Chocolate, Trademark Chocolate Cake with Vanilla layering….I could go on forever.

A feast for the mind and sould, her food pervades our perceptions of reality, filling all of one’s senses, filling one with a feeling of satiated contentment and a hint of greed for more.

Utopia on Earth. A feeling that all is right with the world after all.

She is not a cook. She is indeed a Chef and truly, the World’s Greatest Chef.

Friday Night and Kishor
Thursdays are when I do all of the cleaning up and uploading of the week’s progress so I can get out on time if not early on a Friday; although this time I think ‘twas probably designed by destiny for my departure to be late.
This was probably the best thing that happened to me all week since during the last couple of hours at work I came across some interesting music, I recognized as from a bygone era…the songs of Kishor.
Instant Nostalgia Attack!
Suddenly, I felt I had to get my hands on this music. An hour later, I was successful at getting a hold of a sizeable number of Kishor songs and rushed home.
Now home, I sit stretched out listening to “Meri Sapano Ki Rani” (The Queen of My Dreams), “Aanewalle Pal” (In the Moments to Come) and “Yaadon Ki Baarat” (A Procession of Memories) among other greats while I recollect the fragmented memories that remain, literally colored pastel and faint.
The small home in Bangalore, I grew up in from 1978 through 1984…which was actually a more like a cottage where we all lived – My parents, aunts, grandparents and the numerous visiting relatives round the year.
The memories of my grandparents sitting around breakfast while we turn on the radio for the morning news.

(Generally, by this time, everyone was either off to work, Mom on the early shift for HMT, my aunts on the bus to their respective Universities and Dad was generally out of town on work.)

Soon after the news, the drone of a voice telling us that we’re tuned in to the All India Radio station re-christened post Independence to Akashwani, a gentler voice who would give us an introduction to the composition we were about to hear and with a little crackle and snap of the radio, the songs would begin.
Like the setting for the climax of a movie, their ears and attention turned to the radio, listening into the “latesht” songs. Imagining the videos, sometimes relating to the songs, while other times admiring the compositions, sometimes describing black and white pictures of the “Golden Era” in Hindi Cinema (before it Americanized into Bollywood).
Simple music from simple instruments, no large scale anything, timed to perfection on small budgets still amaze with their perfection in sound, rhythm and melody…and the emotions they bring forth.

Despite how many times you listen to it…you always want more. Now, until the morning comes, I retire to my time machine, my memories, to teleport me via the music of Kishor.

Friday Night and Kishor...pretty good combination after all :)

Until the next time.

Peace,

Gautam

Of Trains and Rains

Of trains and rains…my inspiration to finally go out and blog :)
0100 HRS and I’m up not knowing why or how.
The day was quiet and had gone by quickly as most weekends do. Wake, temple, chores, spend time at my loved one’s place and the day’s already over.
The heat’s taken a turn for the worse and the only hope for one to wake the next day is if the slight drops that began to fall from the heavens on my way back home translate into an opener to the long awaited monsoon.
A train passes by; replaced by the song of the wind chimes above my window.
Fireworks in the distance; probably a game has been won, a marriage celebration maybe or possibly a festival…I overlooked; again.
Replaced again by the sound of the wind chimes, I hope to fall asleep and wake to another day.