Yesterday's kozikatta reminded me of a hilarious incident that happened when I was newly wedded.
I was still learning the ABC of cooking. My father used to tase me about my ignorance about cooking and had asked me whether I would give my husband only boiled eggs everyday.Coming back to my cooking of kozikattas.
I presumed they were made the way I decided.So I went about making them.
My poor father walks in and I serve him and Venu my preparation.
(venu used to keep on teasing me about it).
I did not notice that my father had difficulty in eating the dish.
Later as Venu told me, it balls were uncooked and father had a tough time deciding whether to swallow or spit out as it was made by his daughter.
The only thing I made was rotis. Since I was in a Punjabi neighbourhood my rotis were like by all. Even the sikh neighbours used to praise my rotis.
Before marriage, I was quite good at baking cakes and making jaleid and mysore pak. My sis used to be the real cook in making the main food.
Remember us making rotis together. My sis will be making the rotis and I would be rolling. Amma used to peep in shout at my sis who would be holding a book and concentrating more on it than the rotis.
After she got married and left, it was my duty alse in making rotis.
Once I made puttu and heard my dad praise about it to my mom.
I knew about chow mein from my uncle. He had bought this huge semolina type of thing and gave instructions to me how to make. I did accordingly and it really turned out well. So another person to rave about my expertise in making noodles, as I came to know about the name.
Remember a neighbour inviting my sis, drother and me for a night treat at her house.
It was noodles. As we were eating, she sprinkled what she said cheese powder.
It was so awful that all of ate trying to hide our vomitting sensation.
Another experience in eating.
This was in the year 1998.
had gone for Girivalam in Tiruvinnamalai.
I had gone with pravin and venu.
After the girivalam, e were ushered into a friend's house for breakfast.
Never seen such breakfast items.
Before the plate could e empty, the host told his wife to fill my plate. My stomach was nearly ursting, tears were welling up but items did not stop.When puri and curry was brought, I waas literally in tears. Noticing this the host stopped his wife from putting more items on my plate.
I was still learning the ABC of cooking. My father used to tase me about my ignorance about cooking and had asked me whether I would give my husband only boiled eggs everyday.Coming back to my cooking of kozikattas.
I presumed they were made the way I decided.So I went about making them.
My poor father walks in and I serve him and Venu my preparation.
(venu used to keep on teasing me about it).
I did not notice that my father had difficulty in eating the dish.
Later as Venu told me, it balls were uncooked and father had a tough time deciding whether to swallow or spit out as it was made by his daughter.
The only thing I made was rotis. Since I was in a Punjabi neighbourhood my rotis were like by all. Even the sikh neighbours used to praise my rotis.
Before marriage, I was quite good at baking cakes and making jaleid and mysore pak. My sis used to be the real cook in making the main food.
Remember us making rotis together. My sis will be making the rotis and I would be rolling. Amma used to peep in shout at my sis who would be holding a book and concentrating more on it than the rotis.
After she got married and left, it was my duty alse in making rotis.
Once I made puttu and heard my dad praise about it to my mom.
I knew about chow mein from my uncle. He had bought this huge semolina type of thing and gave instructions to me how to make. I did accordingly and it really turned out well. So another person to rave about my expertise in making noodles, as I came to know about the name.
Remember a neighbour inviting my sis, drother and me for a night treat at her house.
It was noodles. As we were eating, she sprinkled what she said cheese powder.
It was so awful that all of ate trying to hide our vomitting sensation.
Another experience in eating.
This was in the year 1998.
had gone for Girivalam in Tiruvinnamalai.
I had gone with pravin and venu.
After the girivalam, e were ushered into a friend's house for breakfast.
Never seen such breakfast items.
Before the plate could e empty, the host told his wife to fill my plate. My stomach was nearly ursting, tears were welling up but items did not stop.When puri and curry was brought, I waas literally in tears. Noticing this the host stopped his wife from putting more items on my plate.
In Patna in the year 1977.
In fact venu's and my honeymoon days.
Venu had left me at a Bengali friends house. His wife served me lunch.
I have seen the way Bengalis ate their rice.
The rice used to be piled like a huge mountain in the center of the plate with small katories containing dal, fish, chicken and vegetables decorated around the rice. A typical Bong meal. A hollow used to be made in the peak, dal poured, mixed, made into a ball and eaten,
Seeing the piled up rice, my heart missed a beat. I wondered how I was going to eat so much and told about my concern to the host.
She pacified me saying I will just not know the food going inside. As told, I did not realize I had eaten the whole rice and also asked her for more. The quality of the rice was such.
In fact venu's and my honeymoon days.
Venu had left me at a Bengali friends house. His wife served me lunch.
I have seen the way Bengalis ate their rice.
The rice used to be piled like a huge mountain in the center of the plate with small katories containing dal, fish, chicken and vegetables decorated around the rice. A typical Bong meal. A hollow used to be made in the peak, dal poured, mixed, made into a ball and eaten,
Seeing the piled up rice, my heart missed a beat. I wondered how I was going to eat so much and told about my concern to the host.
She pacified me saying I will just not know the food going inside. As told, I did not realize I had eaten the whole rice and also asked her for more. The quality of the rice was such.
Eating at Bengali weddings.
It used to be a lavish spread consisting of vegetables, chicken, mutton and fish.
Stomach used to be so full that there never used to be place for the sweets.
I just love Bengali sweets.
Till I attended Bengali weddings in Kolkatta I had never thought of leaving some space for the sweets.
Invariably. I used to skip the sweets and then regret later.
Golden memories.
It used to be a lavish spread consisting of vegetables, chicken, mutton and fish.
Stomach used to be so full that there never used to be place for the sweets.
I just love Bengali sweets.
Till I attended Bengali weddings in Kolkatta I had never thought of leaving some space for the sweets.
Invariably. I used to skip the sweets and then regret later.
Golden memories.
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