The Food Factor

Until I was 20 years old,I was raised in a south Indian home that ascribed everything from better marks in geography to not having acne to the wonders of vegetarianism. Even eggs were taboo and,if for some reason,you had to have them,like when a family member was told to build stamina with an egg-a-day,it had to be cooked on a separate stove in a separate vessel,which had to be washed in the yard outside. And then I married into a household which,while it was not compulsively non-vegetarian,was not fastidiously vegetarian either. My mother-in-law told me a funny story of how,as a newly married 18-year-old,she moved from small town Maharashtra to Bihar,where my father-in-law was working. One night,he brought home chicken curry and she burst into tears and cried all night long,thinking her family had duped her and married her off to “a Mohammedan”! For several years after we got married,my household remained vegetarian,because I didn’t know how to cook non-vegetarian food and my husband was too lazy to learn how. Those were also the days before packaged,frozen,cleaned chicken was available in neighbourhood supermarkets with freezers,and the whole effort was just too much.

Then a sad rite of passage occurred. My mother-in-law passed away and my father-in-law came to live with us for a while. He was a foodie and had been pampered with his wife’s cooking every day for 45 years. It was agreed that he would buy the stuff and teach the maid how to cook it ,and my little daughter would be given the choice. It was a surprising lesson to me then,how swiftly we women come around when there is even a hint of the possible disintermediation from one’s own kitchen! My father-in-law taught me how to cook fish the Bengali way and make chicken curry the Maharashtrian way — and though I don’t come anywhere close to my mother-in-law’s cooking,I don’t do a half-bad job. But keeping a balance between the vegetarian side of my family and the non-vegetarian side has always been a bit of a challenge,and I constantly struggle to figure my position on issues that arise as a result. Is it fair to deprive one part of the family of food that they like when elders of the other side come visiting? Or is it a non-negotiable mark of respect,does it build character and everyone has to learn to adjust? How many months of such character building is too much? If your child is eating kebabs off the street because it can’t be made at home,is she being a spoilt brat,or should one treat it the same as going to a bhelpuriwallah?

We remember with exasperation the time when my seven-year-old daughter used to solemnly inform us that her friend coming to spend the day was vegetarian; and then the visitor would survey the table and ask with deep disappointment,“Aunty you didn’t make any chicken curry today?” My daughter did no better as she grew older. She periodically informed us that she was vegetarian,and then would say in that dreamy tone that most of us moms yearn to hear,“I think Rhea’s mother is the best cook in the whole world because she makes yummy mutton curry just for me”. So “do you eat non vegetarian food”? Ask the question and you will hear that spicy seekh kebab are okay for some,boneless meat is okay for others,non-vegetarian in Chinese food is okay for yet others etc,etc. It is always interesting to think about how Brahmins everywhere are enjoined to be vegetarian but in Bengal they can eat fish,presumably because there fish is a vegetable of the sea. I guess the word that works best for many of us Indians is that we are neither vegetarian,nor non-vegetarian — we are “choosetarian”.

wearelikethatonly@expressindia.com