Khana Khazana (The food treasure trove)

I must apologise for having disappeared for such a long time – but the double whammy of upcoming examinations and a busy period at work have consistently eaten into my time for active blogging…. A very unfortunate occurrence I must add! However today I have revolted, pushing away my law books (I have added that subject in just to give my readers the impression that I am swotting long and hard at my serious study…but nevertheless!) and reached for my sleek little notebook with obvious delight. (The fact that the upcoming examination time is a period when I suddenly find cleaning the house, organising my things, even exercising and cooking much more appealing, may have something to do with it!)

Yesterday I volunteered to go weekly shopping for the house – a chore that is routinely looked into by my flatmate. Stepping into the departmental store, I could not help but wander into the lanes and shelves and lose myself in the wonderful wares. I saw plump, crisp celery waiting to be chopped into a refreshing salad, cherubic cherry tomatoes and the most wonderful snow peas. My mind was in overdrive as I planned the evening meal, picking up fresh ingredients as I went along.

For those of you who know me from India, you will know that I am obsessed with the perfect bunch of basil, (that I found purple basil yesterday delighted me beyond reason!), gleaming baby carrots, pok choy and the like. Unfortunately, locating such vegetables in India was scarce and the few wilted species that one would find, rarely lent anything more than a scant comfort to the soul.

Finally I settled on tossing a crunchy salad with various leaves, shredded carrots and orange segments, with some basil-speckled penne for dinner. Eager to get started on my culinary journey, I rushed home to start cooking. When I got home, I discovered that the girls too had been out shopping – but to the Indian store. They had located spinach (Paalak), fenugreek leaves (Methi) and okra (Bhendi) – all of which are the basic Indian vegetables – very rarely seen in Brisbane.

That evening as I smacked my lips….having enjoyed dinner thoroughly, I contemplated my meal of spicy okra with caramelised onions (masala bhendi) and rich velvety pulses (daal makhani) scooped up with wheat flour bread (chapattis). Rare commodities are always precious – and the definition of rare changes with time. There truly is nothing better than the comfort of home cooked Indian food!

Breakfast at Paddington

When I was only a week old in Brisbane, my aunt and uncle took me for an exquisite Sunday breakfast to a lovely little cafe in Paddington – aptly named “Anouk”. As we sat in a bustling corner near the display of chocolate caked and muffins, watching delectably garnished plates of eggs and bacon fly past us, I could not help but wish that I could share this discovery with a like minded soul.

Three months and some days later…I mentioned this cafe to my house-mate Saee (aka Cruella…but that story makes for another post!) She was instantly enthusiastic to try me on my claim for knowing where the world’s best french toast was made. So one Sunday, I grudgingly agreed to take her to Paddington (I’m VERY lazy you know – it takes a lot to push me out of my reverie!)

As we neared the bustling cafe…we were greeted by the aromas of freshly ground coffee, eggs cooking in the skillet, bacon curling as it browned on the edges and fresh muffins. We also saw a bit of a line of waiting clientele snake around the pavement – all of which only served to whet the appetite and take the expectations one notch higher!

Finally, we were ushered to a little table, not too far from where we sat the last time I was here. We ordered our cups of earl grey and cappuccino and settled in to look at the delectable menu. Placing our orders, we started to chat and reminisce about our lives in India, our dreams and our ambitions.

The plates arrived – looking like a dream come true! Two identical wedges of brioche french toast – topped with whipped cream and syrupy raspberries, complimented perfectly with slices of honey dew melon and garnished with maple syrup, mint sprigs and sprinkled sugar. Poetry on a plate – for sure!

As we each took little melt-in-the-mouth bites of our sumptuous orders – Saee started to relate engrossing memories of her childhood. I was completely wrapped up in her tales – sometimes amused and sometimes sympathetic. We washed down our stories with some more tea and coffee – as we sat there by the window…sunlight streaming in and warming our heads.

We settled the check and strolled out – deciding to give the bus a miss, and walk back home instead. The talking and bonding made me realise that she was exactly the kind of person I wanted to share Anouk with. For with Saee, while the food was appreciated to the perfect degree – it was not permitted to take centre stage. Instead it was allowed to form the back drop to a wonderful session of chatter, memories and laughter – all the elements of the perfect Sunday morning brunch!