Ah well, I am back for another bout of gibberish. It's really good to blog while you are under a shitload of work and have no idea as to how to shirk it off. Well immersed in this muck upto the neck, I am hungry and obviously thinking about Home Sweet Home. It's been almost four years now since I was introduced to the ' La Cuisines' of Kharagpur.
These defy any notion about a balanced diet that the so called nutritionalists cherish and preach with vigour. These also challenge the very basic tenets of hygiene so zealously preached by teachers in school and embedded in our primary textbooks. These would be the nightmare of any chef( who would quit cooking if he saw the lesser ones of his race conjuring up platters of dishes so eloquently named in the menus). It's time to explore the recipes I have been subjected to during my ' wonder years ' (indeed I am still wondering even now how did I end up here). Before embarking on this voyeurism I would like to claim that I am a stout vegetarian (atleast I believe so that those blasted fiends calling themselves cooks have not tricked me into eating anything illegitimate. But can I call myself a vegetarian after I gobbled up an Aloo Paratha which was roasted in a Pan which had previously been employed to make a double omlette. Ignorance is indeed a Bliss!!)
All paths lead to the Mess now. The mess ( a very fitting name for that place. Wonder who gave it such an apt name) is a hive of activity with men energetically humming on to prepare the lunch and the dinner fare. Huge aluminium vessels, rusty knives, a pungent odour enamour the mess along with the constant din of the mess workers along with the splurging of water from our very deceptive washroom. What a place for a Grand Hyatt Chef to write a treatise on " 1000 ways to avoid a messy kitchen".
Getting on to the food, Its a non spicy, non oily stuff, weighed down with potaoes( the pauper's delight) in almost all items on the menu. The Chappatis come in two incarnations, the papad one and the rubbery one or if you are destined to be lucky you could end up with a decent one. The Dal (pulses) with an alarming regularity is a suspension of fluid and solids, the latter ending up at the bottom with scores of fillers that the cooks employ to weigh down the dal. The curry as aforementioned is an unscrupulous mass of potatoes with a rare stick or piece of some other vegetables poking out( if you are lucky to get those). The rice is all but edible for a Human. When it comes to the specials ( indeed it's a rebuke as they are specially intended to make people feel once in a while), its mainly hardened paneer(read potted cheese) with some gravy intended to make a person feel cheerful. The puries ( wheat discs inflated by frying) are a manifestation of wastage of precious oil which by the way is another source of mystery for me. The solitary sweet and the chocolate complete the fare.
So much for the lunch and the dinner( I could fill an encyclopedia on these but for the scanty time I have at my disposal). We now arrive to the snacks and the breakfast which by any standards are better and more edible. As for the hygiene( its an irony to mention it) the plates come mostly wet from a baptisation in the detergent filled sink coupled with an immersion in a plain water sink. Still no casualties though..... So called nutritionists art thou listening???
Next on our itinerary comes the hall canteen, ( The JCB Hall canteen). With all due respect to the fat bellied cook( is he one??), the kitchen is one blackened chamber with save but one of Edison's inventions illuminating it. The one and only blackened frying pan churns out almost 10 out of the 15 items on the menu with amazing speed. Be it burgers( yes thats what he calls that stuff so abominably denied by the dogs) or Omlettes( quite cheap but alas I am a veggie) or Fried rice( quite decent but overpriced stuff, But is a patent in itself with those potato chips adorning it) or Aloo Parathas ( forget that you ever ate them at home if you want to savour these) or Bread Bhujia ( some stuff made up of bread, same old potatoes, oil and other organic things that grow above the earth). The sandwich is the one dish which has been villified to the greatest extent possible with guess what the same old potatoes embedded and toasted on that coal black frying pan. So much for the canteen ( Though I feel sorry to have been so concise).
More is to follow on the restaurant ( as they call themselves) world outside the hostel gate. One might be tempted to think that I am some spoilt brat who's had too much of spoon feeding, which I solemnly declare is utterly untrue. I respect Food in all its forms, but what these guys serve is not what a sane man would call food. And to think this is hungrily wolfed up by some of the most wanted lads in the world who further grow up to be leaders and managers is still loathsome.
So long then, I will be back soon with a description if the campus restaurants which they truly merit.....
These defy any notion about a balanced diet that the so called nutritionalists cherish and preach with vigour. These also challenge the very basic tenets of hygiene so zealously preached by teachers in school and embedded in our primary textbooks. These would be the nightmare of any chef( who would quit cooking if he saw the lesser ones of his race conjuring up platters of dishes so eloquently named in the menus). It's time to explore the recipes I have been subjected to during my ' wonder years ' (indeed I am still wondering even now how did I end up here). Before embarking on this voyeurism I would like to claim that I am a stout vegetarian (atleast I believe so that those blasted fiends calling themselves cooks have not tricked me into eating anything illegitimate. But can I call myself a vegetarian after I gobbled up an Aloo Paratha which was roasted in a Pan which had previously been employed to make a double omlette. Ignorance is indeed a Bliss!!)
All paths lead to the Mess now. The mess ( a very fitting name for that place. Wonder who gave it such an apt name) is a hive of activity with men energetically humming on to prepare the lunch and the dinner fare. Huge aluminium vessels, rusty knives, a pungent odour enamour the mess along with the constant din of the mess workers along with the splurging of water from our very deceptive washroom. What a place for a Grand Hyatt Chef to write a treatise on " 1000 ways to avoid a messy kitchen".
Getting on to the food, Its a non spicy, non oily stuff, weighed down with potaoes( the pauper's delight) in almost all items on the menu. The Chappatis come in two incarnations, the papad one and the rubbery one or if you are destined to be lucky you could end up with a decent one. The Dal (pulses) with an alarming regularity is a suspension of fluid and solids, the latter ending up at the bottom with scores of fillers that the cooks employ to weigh down the dal. The curry as aforementioned is an unscrupulous mass of potatoes with a rare stick or piece of some other vegetables poking out( if you are lucky to get those). The rice is all but edible for a Human. When it comes to the specials ( indeed it's a rebuke as they are specially intended to make people feel once in a while), its mainly hardened paneer(read potted cheese) with some gravy intended to make a person feel cheerful. The puries ( wheat discs inflated by frying) are a manifestation of wastage of precious oil which by the way is another source of mystery for me. The solitary sweet and the chocolate complete the fare.
So much for the lunch and the dinner( I could fill an encyclopedia on these but for the scanty time I have at my disposal). We now arrive to the snacks and the breakfast which by any standards are better and more edible. As for the hygiene( its an irony to mention it) the plates come mostly wet from a baptisation in the detergent filled sink coupled with an immersion in a plain water sink. Still no casualties though..... So called nutritionists art thou listening???
Next on our itinerary comes the hall canteen, ( The JCB Hall canteen). With all due respect to the fat bellied cook( is he one??), the kitchen is one blackened chamber with save but one of Edison's inventions illuminating it. The one and only blackened frying pan churns out almost 10 out of the 15 items on the menu with amazing speed. Be it burgers( yes thats what he calls that stuff so abominably denied by the dogs) or Omlettes( quite cheap but alas I am a veggie) or Fried rice( quite decent but overpriced stuff, But is a patent in itself with those potato chips adorning it) or Aloo Parathas ( forget that you ever ate them at home if you want to savour these) or Bread Bhujia ( some stuff made up of bread, same old potatoes, oil and other organic things that grow above the earth). The sandwich is the one dish which has been villified to the greatest extent possible with guess what the same old potatoes embedded and toasted on that coal black frying pan. So much for the canteen ( Though I feel sorry to have been so concise).
More is to follow on the restaurant ( as they call themselves) world outside the hostel gate. One might be tempted to think that I am some spoilt brat who's had too much of spoon feeding, which I solemnly declare is utterly untrue. I respect Food in all its forms, but what these guys serve is not what a sane man would call food. And to think this is hungrily wolfed up by some of the most wanted lads in the world who further grow up to be leaders and managers is still loathsome.
So long then, I will be back soon with a description if the campus restaurants which they truly merit.....
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