BackLetter from... a lifetime of cooking
To watch someone cook is to gaze into their very soul
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Surely you’ve heard the old trope: to really judge a person, to get a sense of who they are, secretly observe them in a restaurant. People who otherwise appear benign may often prove to be boors who talk down to wait staff and leave malicious tips.
Well, I would like to add to that with a trope of my own: to get an authentic sense of a person watch them cooking in their kitchen. In the time it takes them to put together a meal you will learn much about their personality and their outlook to life and living. Even if the cook is someone you have known for a long time, watching them cook for the first time can often be a revelatory experience.
I have often seen otherwise insouciant friends turn precise and methodical as they put together splendid dishes. On the other hand, acquaintances who always seem sorted—the well-dressed, journal-writing types who file their taxes months in advance of deadline—turn into blundering wrecks in the process of putting together a mere omelette or pizza bread.
In the kitchen, man is elevated or debased to his true self.
I discovered cooking all off a sudden like an unseen speed bump. During the summer break between my second and third years of engineering college, I acquired a tiny electric oven with a hot plate on top.
My rationale was simple. It was in third year that we finally moved into “single rooms". It was also in third year that life in engineering college really bloomed in every sense. From that point onwards, academic and social lives became more complex. Long nights would be spent on deliverables and distractions. And a growing young man needed sustenance. The oven would help me cook eggs and bread and such like.
Or so I thought. In hindsight it was a terrible idea. In the heat of our hostel rooms almost all foodstuffs spoiled instantly. Besides, the hotplate never got hot enough to really cook an egg properly. Also the blooming of my social life meant that more and more of my time was spent with friends at tables in restaurants and canteens and such like.
There was almost no need to ever cook anything in my room. My oven was soon shipped back home where it gave us many years of good service heating leftovers.
Then, many, many years later, in the summer of 2011, I started cooking again. Wait. Scratch that. In the summer of 2011, I began to cook. Several factors led to this.
Firstly, I had just started working from home, and it made no sense to eat lunch out every day. Secondly, I began to spend more and more time watching cookery shows. (Cookery, football and crime series accounts for around 95% of all the television I watch.) Thirdly, and perhaps most importantly, I suddenly got cooking.
I suddenly realized that cooking was not some kind of sorcery that could only be passed down orally from person to person. (Usually, mothers to daughters. And I don’t mean that in a sexist, prescriptivist manner.)
In fact, cooking, I figured out, lay somewhere between maths problem and English composition. There were certain rules and procedures that governed good cooking. But there was also enough leeway to fiddle around with techniques and be creative.
What fed into this epiphany was “lifehacking" websites on the Internet that often featured posts on smart cooking. Starting there, and propelled by small successes, I began to follow recipe blogs and Youtube videos. Vahchef is essential viewing.
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Whisk two eggs with a splash of milk, salt, pepper and a dash of Tabasco. Pour mixture into a hot, oiled pan. When the egg is cooked halfway through, throw a handful of rocket leaves into the middle, and maybe some finely diced tomatoes. Salt and pepper to taste. Fold over the egg in half over the filling. Press down gently. Flip over with confidence. Eat.
***
Very quickly, I began to notice that I had evolved a style of working in a kitchen. I planned in advance, cleaned as I cooked and hated using too many utensils. Indeed, of all the things I do in my life, the kitchen is perhaps where I am at my most methodical. So much so that nowadays even watching somebody make a mess while cooking gives me secret apoplexy.
I was ready, by early 2013, to move into the next phase: online cooking courses.
I signed up for an online course on the science of cooking conducted by Harvard on the edX platform. It completely and utterly blew my mind.
Through a combination of experiments, readings and video lectures I began to slowly understand what happened when you cooked things. Cooking was something even more amazing than sorcery, it was science in play. I loved it. And I began to get more ambitious with my cooking. I began to make curries, cakes, roast meats and desserts.
I also realized that I was completely cool with making mistakes. I would destroy entire batches of batter and dough and sauce. And start from scratch all over again without any hint of regret. Cooking is amazing that way. You almost never make the same mistake twice, each time learning a little more.
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Get a few overripe bananas. Peel, slice, put into a container and freeze. Then chuck it all in a blender and blend the heck out of it. Don’t worry. At some point the bananas will suddenly disintegrate into the texture of ice cream. Add a spoon of peanut butter. Blend. Then put the ice cream into a container and freeze. Scoop into bowls and eat. I also like to pour a shot of fresh coffee over a scoop. Too simple? Scoop balls, roll them in crushed cornflakes, then some beaten egg, then some more crushed cornflakes, and deep fry for fifteen seconds. Amazeballs. Which is also a good name for them.
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The next batch for the online course starts in January. Enrol urgently. It is great.
Unfortunately I had to drop the course three-fourths of the way through due to arrival of baby daughter. But now there was no turning back. I began to take cooking seriously.
Today, I approach my cooking like I approach my penchant for gadgets, gaming or history. I read widely, compare techniques, refer to canonical texts and try to understand things from the basics upwards.
I cook, you may say, like an engineer. My newest toy is a slow cooker. Starting slowly (HAH) with curries and stews, I have now progressed to ribs and roasts. Tomorrow night I will start on a Turkey breast roast for Christmas lunch. With some cranberry sauce and roasted parsnips on the side.
I have recently been testing my “kitchen as revealer of human behaviour" thesis on the missus. Apparently her style of cooking is not all that different from the plot of the film Gladiator. There is noise and rage and violence and suddenly a few moments of calm before further mayhem and uproar and thunder and lightning and everything is a bit confusing but then the ending is sublime and she wins all the awards but nobody know how this has happened.
So I suppose for some people cooking is still a bit like sorcery.
***
Take a nice brinjal/aubergine/eggplant/that-purple-phallic-thing-yaar and cut into thin slices. Toss in olive oil along with chopped garlic and whatever herbs. Roast in a hot oven until golden and properly cooked. Around half an hour. Some people get hung up on getting them crisp and stuff. Nonsense. Ignore. Carefully remove and dust with salt, pepper and maybe a little chilli powder. Use immediately as sandwich filling. Or roll up in a roti with lettuce, chopped tomatoes, a little mayo and some chilly sauce. Basically anything. Aubergine is amazing. Bonus points for dripping sauce all over your shirt/top/blouse. Leftovers? Blitz in a blender for super dip. Still leftovers? Reconsider the purpose of your life.
Letter From... is Mint on Sunday’s antidote to boring editor’s columns. Each week, one of our editors—Sidin Vadukut in London and Arun Janardhan in Mumbai—will send dispatches on places, people and institutions that are worth ruminating about on the weekend.
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