Culinary Chronicles
By Yasmin Rahul Bakshi
He was extremely choosy and fussy about food. Weighing around one hundred and thirty kilos, he stood over six feet three inches tall when he rose onto his hind legs.
Raised in a military home, he became disciplined, detail-oriented, and particular about certain aspects of life. Yet, he made adjustments in times of need—except in his dietary habits. Our Saint Bernard!
He voyaged for thousands of kilometres in a sedan without complaint. Despite his imposing size, he had the ability to fit into the corners of army guest rooms, with the only requirement being an effective air conditioner to keep him cool.
Once, while we were staying in the Officers’ Mess of the Vajra Corps at Jalandhar, Tuesday’s breakfast menu included halwa, poori, and chana which was served in our room. Knowing how much he loved halwa, I kept his bowl aside and served the rest to Tiger before he left for office.
“Goofy, come. It’s halwa!” I called out to him in excitement.
He was in the habit of not eating from a bowl; each morsel had to be hand-fed to him. Be it roti or boiled eggs, his daily portions were strictly numbered—twelve of each per day, along with half a kilo of cottage cheese.
Goofy came running with floppy, uncoordinated joy, but instantly turned his face away at the first glance—or maybe the first sniff. Rejected!
When I reattempted, his reaction was exactly the same, proving his choice wasn’t what it used to be.
About three months later, when we shifted to the Married Officers’ Accommodation, the first dish cooked in the new kitchen was halwa. As the aroma of roasting semolina in clarified butter swirled through the air, he circled crazily around the room.
Since our daughter was away at boarding school, I ladled out the first few spoonfuls from the pan for him. He relished it with absolute joy, leaving me pondering why he had refused it the other day.
After much thought, I realised it was the refined oil in the Officers’ Mess halwa that had made him turn it down. The kitchens of the Officers’ Messes usually avoid using desi ghee. He had simply grown rigid in his preferences.
He was a saintly vegetarian whose only weakness was the irresistible smell of BBQ chicken, but only when it was done over coal. Dismayed by the lack of smoky richness, he would wave away any poultry from an electric grill.
Goofy was a canine of few demands; he asked only for top-tier food, pampered comfort, and to march down the road with two attendants as if he were reviewing his loyal royal subjects.
Ingredients:
- Chicken thighs and drumsticks – 1 kg
- Lemon juice – 2 Tbsp
- Kashmiri red chili powder – 1 Tbsp
- Salt – according to taste
- Hung curd – 1 cup (whipped)
- Ginger-garlic paste – 2 Tbsp
- Green chili paste – ½ tsp
- Garam masala powder – ½ tsp
- Coriander powder – 1 tsp
- Kasuri methi – 1 tsp (crushed)
- Black salt – ½ tsp
- Cooking oil – 2 Tbsp
- Butter – for basting
Method:
- Wash and pat dry the chicken pieces. Make 2 to 3 deep, diagonal incisions on each piece.
- Rub the lemon juice and salt over each piece.
- Cover and leave aside for half an hour.
- In a bowl mix the ginger-garlic paste, green chili paste, hung curd, Kashmiri red chili powder, cumin powder, garam masala powder, coriander powder, black salt, oil and kasuri methi to make a marinade.
- Wrap the chicken pieces in the marinade.
- Cover and keep inside a refrigerator for 6-7 hours to marinate.
- Either grill over burning embers (charcoal) or grill in an electric oven at 220 degrees over the baking rack for 25 minutes.
- In between, melt the butter and brush over the chicken pieces while it is in the oven or over the burning embers. Flip and brush on the other side too.
- Cook until tender and slightly charred.
- Serve hot.
(Yasmin Rahul Bakshi is an accomplished senior consultant Chef and a food historian. A widely travelled Army wife from the Mussoorie hills with exposure to international cuisines & preserving recipes with the medium of food photography and digital content creation in the form of stories.)
