The Bakarwadi Connection

The busy Bajirao road in Pune is incomplete without the vibrant red board of 'Chitale Bandhu' at the end of the road. The dull grey road is lit up by the bright red signboard, the mouths of Punekars water at the very mention of Chitale. The Chitale group of companies is a collaborative venture run by the Chitale family since the 1940s. It was started as a small dairy business in Sangli in 1938 by Bhaskar Ganesh Chitale. It has now diversified into 5 companies, Chitale Dairy, Chitale Bandhu, Chitale foods, Chitale agro and an IT firm called Chitale Digitals. 

It was Raghunathrao Chitale, the son of Bhaskar Ganesh Chitale who set up and managed Chitale Bandhu Mithaiwale venture. He was responsible for churning out some of Chitale’s most popular food items: the bakarwadi, amba burfi, shrikhand and pedhas. Chitale has become a household name in Pune with the passage of time, and Punekars associate Chitale’s name with the crunchy, sweet yet spicy Bakarwadis the most.

Bakarwadi is traditionally a Gujarati snack, made popular by Raghunathrao in Maharashtra in the 70s, by making it spicier and more suitable to Maharashtrian palates. Bakarwadi is a highly popular snack in both Maharashtra and Gujarat. The Gujarati bakarwadi is made with a besan dough, which is rolled into thin sheets which is slathered with a spice mix and rolled into cigars. It is then cut into smaller pieces and fried in burning hot oil. It is slightly sweeter than the Maharashtrian one.

The Maharashtrian bakarwadi also has a besan base. Its stuffing has coconut, sesame seeds, poppy seeds, jeera (cumin seeds), aamchur (dried mango powder) and a subtle hint of spice. It is rolled into spirals and fried. The crust is crunchy and crispy, and the stuffing is spiced perfectly. It is the perfect mix of crunch, sweet and spicy flavours.

Bakarwadi is a highly addictive snack, and the very feeling of biting into a delicious Chitale bakarwadi cannot be put into words. That crunch when you bite into it is just unbeatable. It’s a symphony of crunch and delectable flavours.

Over the years, I have formed this attachment with bakarwadi which is so unique. Its my go-to snack. No lunch at home is incomplete without relishing a bakarwadi. Just seeing that white and blue Chitale packet lights up my whole day.

Sneaking into dadu’s kitchen to look for that bakarwadi, is a mood. Seeing baba crush my dear bakarwadi and mix it some dahi is something I look at with awe. For me, adding anything to my little piece of happiness is contaminating its flavor.

But I guess everyone enjoys bakarwadi their way.

The Bakarwadi connection is literally something which will never end. Ever.

The notion of ugliness

Who is ugly?

That neighbourhood bald uncle with a paunch?

That girl with unwaxed arms?

Or that acid attack survivor whose picture you saw this morning?

In my opinion, there are no ugly faces, only ugly thoughts.

I blatantly refuse to accept this whole concept of ‘ugliness’ of faces. Nobody has the right to term someone as ugly. The only people who term others as ‘ugly’ are the ones who are unable to embrace themselves. Ugliness isn’t about the face of the other person, its rather about the thought process of the person calling him/her ugly.

We all are ugly and beautiful. Everyone has beautiful faces and certain beautiful qualities. But everyone also has some ugly qualities. These ugly or negative qualities are the only ugliness of yours you need to worry about.

Having a pimple on your face or fat on your belly doesn’t make you ugly. But your impatience, anger, sadness does. Embrace that. Embrace your inner beauty and your inner ugliness. Work on it. Recognize it, realize it. The only person who has a right to call you ‘ugly’ is you. You are the person who knows you best. You are your best critic. Fall in love with those drawbacks, that inner ugliness. You may not be able to turn that ugliness to beauty, but once you realize and embrace it, you wont consider it negative anymore.

So love yourself for who you are, not what you look like.

रातें

नशीली रातें,

तारों की बातें,

बहती हुई हवाएँ,

आसमान की घटाएँ,

सब उन नग्मों के लफ़्ज़ों में खो गयी।

मन में छुपी जो धुन थी,

पवन ने गा दी

साँझ की परछाइयों में,

मैं घूम गयी।

खुद को इस रात में खोकर,

सेहर के धुएँ से आयी लौट।

अभी भी मग्न,

उस रात के नशे में।

The vegetarian wall of China!

Food is something I absolutely love to write about (and eat as well!). So as I cross 100 articles, I thought of sharing more of my food reviews and food articles. Hope you like these!

This one’s a bit about the delicious Vegetarian Chinese dishes.

Chinese food in India is unfortunately limited to the smoking hot and spicy noodles, machurian, chilli paneer/chicken, tom yum soup, etc which aren’t actually Chinese. They are rather a desi version of the food that one actually gets in China. Many people say that China has no food for vegetarians, and that Chinese eat everything. Yes, Chinese do eat everything. And they eat some of the best vegetarian food I’ve ever eaten. On my visit to China a few years back, I realized how beautiful and tasty the vegetarian food in China is. So here are 5 delicious traditional vegetarian Chinese dishes:

1)     Braised Eggplant: I had never eaten the boring, purple baingan in my life before my visit to China. Crispy and smoky stir-fried eggplant in a perfect garlic and soy sauce served with beans is just a perfect combination! It made me look at the ugly baingan from a mouth-watering expression.

2)     Shredded Potato Stir Fry: Potato is the lifeline of vegetarians. One doesn’t really get paneer abroad, so mashed or fried potatoes are the safe haven for the vegetarians if they don’t get anything else to eat. This dish is boiled and shredded and stir-fried at a high temperature for a short period of time. Pepper and chilli are added in the seasoning along with some vinegar. It’s a relatively simple dish, but one will be astonished at how delicious it tastes.

3)     Salad: The salads in China are just great. The lettuce, tomatoes, mushrooms and the subtle dressing is great. The freshness just lifts the salad and makes it a great dish to eat. The mushrooms especially are usually Shitake mushrooms. The dressing has sesame, soya, chilli, vinegar and some lemon. Even the cabbage salads are a must try.

4)     Crsipy Tofu: The Chinese counterpart of paneer. One might find tofu bland if not eaten with enough dressing or seasoning, but crispy pan fried tofu with loads of soya, garlic and chilli and served with spring onions is just delicious.

5)     Banana fritters: China doesn’t really have a lot of sweets, but the fried banana fritters are just great. Super crunchy on the outside, with the gooey goodness of banana on the inside, these fritters and overly sweet. They are rather a perfect combo of crunch and softness.

So vegetarians, when are you planning your trip to China?

Pune: The Queen of Deccan Book review

Ever wondered why Pune is called so? Or why the culturally rich peths of the city are named after days of the week? Or why Pune is characterized by narrow roads? The astonishing and fascinating history of Pune has often been ignored and set aside. Pune isn’t limited to the splendid Shaniwar Wada, or even to the story of the majestic Shivaji. The Battle of Khadki, the brave Nana Phadnis, the visionary Jyotiba Phule, and the grand Bund Garden, all have a vast and interesting history. Pune: The Queen of Deccan by Jayamala Diddee and Samita Gupta is your perfect handbook for getting a flavor of Pune’s history. Simple language, interesting illustrations and absorbing facts make it impossible to put the book down once you begin reading it.

Pune: The Queen of the Deccan takes you on the journey to the old roads of Punewadi. You flow in the tiny stream of Nagzhari. You witness the empty kutcha roads of Pune, attend the evening paars with the elderly, fight battles with the Peshwas and also build Government houses in the Cantonment. This voyage through time not only introduces you to many lesser known facts and fables, but also completely changes the way you look at Pune.

Diddee and Gupta’s beautiful writing makes the book a unique and engrossing read. They truly deliver a ‘tribute to the city’ and effectively construct Pune’s urban personality. The contrast of Pune as a cultural capital and booming industrial city has been discussed and explained at length. The book is divided into 7 chapters, which discuss topics including peshwai, cantonment, colonial times, metropolis, etc. The true carriers of Pune’s history and culture, the peths have a chapter dedicated to them, which does complete justice to the traditional wards of the city. All the chapters are presented comprehensively and give an overall outlook of the city during those times.

For a beginner who wishes to know more about the history of the city, this book is a blessing. There is no point when the book gets boring. Santosh Bhandare’s collection of photographs ensures the same. Not just the carefully curated photographs, but also the old maps, illustrations add to the understanding of the reader and overall connect with the book. Any Punekar would know the Town Hall, Fergusson College, Mandai, Aga Khan Palace. This book describes why and how they were built and how they developed throughout the years. A description of such locations makes the book relatable for even a common citizen of the city. The photographs of the locations from different time periods also help the reader connect the dots of the past and present.

The book also teaches us a lot. As we see the city develop, we also see how the greed for more led to exploitation and destruction of the environment. The floods, epidemics, famines across various time periods showcase how exploitation of nature has punished us repeatedly over time. As the book culminates, the authors also describe how they expect their city to be in the future. Its been about ten years since the book released, and we fail to meet most of the parameters mentioned in the book. Pune, over time, has turned from a cradle of culture and heritage to fast-paced industrial city with clogged roads. But is that what we wish to be? The author leaves you to ponder upon such questions.

Pune: Queen of the Deccan brings Pune to life. It makes an extremely successful attempt of tracing the events that have shaped our beautiful city. The culture, architecture, evolution, challenges, accomplishments, administration and history are all elucidated perfectly in this amazing read. If you have been a citizen of Pune for long, or wish to know the hidden secrets of this magnificent city, leave your Netflix or Amazon Prime for a weekend and try reading this masterpiece! I guarantee you won’t be disappointed

A Puneri Monsoon

The sound of pitter patter. Somehow, I am used to it now. The unending raindrops fall on the AC vent, and produce an irritating tap-tap-tap background music. I have no idea how I manage to sleep every night even with this not-so pleasing sound ringing in my ears. Ultimately, it does wake me up in the mornings.

All I have ever associated monsoons with is pakodas, Maggie and soup. The raindrops happen to remind me only of the Chak dhoom dhoom chak or the last scene in Wake Up Sid. Mumbai ka monsoon is so romanticised in movies that one considers it nothing short of a paradise. But the truth is, Maharashtra rains are nothing more than loud horns, unexpected lightning and chikhat. Ofcourse, there used to be a time these monsoons used to bring with them a beautiful green cover. But the virgin green ghats are now so popular that one sees more people than trees, and more butta waste than waterfalls.

I have never been a monsoon person. Except the mitti ki Khushboo, there’s literally nothing I cherish much about the season. I still remember back in school how we had to cancel our games periods or assemblies for the sake of monsoons. All sulky faces. Then that continuous rainfall. There was laziness and lethargy all around. Sometimes I was even too lazy to even remove the umbrella from my bag, so didn’t mind getting wet.

Those lovely childhood days are long gone when we used to dance in the rain, get our hair wet and then shake our heads to sprinkle that water on our friends. In this era of acid rains, we hardly see any kids creating those memories. Guess they’ll never know the pleasure of dancing on Barso re megha megha in full Aishwarya-Rai style with the incessant rains.

And now these college days. Walking 500m to the rickshaw stands with thick raindrops falling on my head. Just to find out that all the rickshwalas are either tucked away in their rajais at home or taking some other passenger. So I just wave my hand in the air like a dancer to catch a rickshaw. After some 5 minutes of the continuous action of staring at my watch and then staring again at the road, I get a rick. Then with that jhatak  scarf of mine wrapped around my tiny head, I venture on this hawadar  journey to college. I used to shiver or even try to wipe the water droplets around me earlier. But with time, I learnt to be so engrossed in my music that I’m not bothered by either the wind or the rain.

Then after reaching college, you are quite likely to see a girl squeezing her t-shirt or even her hair to drain out the water. Thank you two-wheelers, get your raincovers asap. Once this nichodna process is done, they just cover themselves up in a scarf or a jacket and somehow survive in the kadakti thand of the college hawa all day. We all somehow hibernate (with our eyes open) throughout the lectures, and then just wake up during the break to stuff our mouths with a huge variety of dishes. Most of the last lectures are bunked, to avoid the evening traffic.

And the return journey is the most entertaining part ever. After bargaining on the atrocious prices stated by the rickshwalas, I finally get one and go back. For a few minutes, the roads are all jolly and empty even despite all the rains. But after a bit, they get inspired by the Mutha river nearby and begin their water-clogging antics. So my rickshaw goes like some superb Fast and Furious car, splashing water on the faces of all the nearby 2-wheeler walas. Then I reach this signal which is infamous for the tremendous traffic. For the next 15 minutes or so, I just enjoy the symphony of raindrops, horns and beggars saying please didi. Mixing these with the miscellaneous songs played by the truck-walas, and Kuhad’s cold/mess, trust me the overall outcome is highly interesting.

At last, I reach home, wash my face and start thoosna. Then all the tensions of the whole wide day are all forgotten.

Honestly, this tension, these irritating drops aren’t that annoying anymore. I am quite used to them now, and am starting to like them really. I guess we are all plants at the end, taking in the different sized raindrops of situations and blooming with flowers at the end.

Light of the soul

The orange sky had captivated me,

And was ready to gulp my yellow light.

The rays of my light grew dimmer,

And the glow of the sky grew stronger.

My light wasn’t ready to be overcast yet.

But the sky was stronger.

It did gulp me,

Slowly and steadily.

It did take my yellow radiance away,

But couldn’t extract my glow.

I came back when the orange sky turned an inky black.

This time I was white,

Unpigmented, colourless, drained,

But natural.

 My glow was mine,

Not the sky’s.

I was more me than I could ever be.

For I didn’t care what the colour of the sky was.

I only cared about what the colour of my soul was.