Vanilla Room

The food and the story behind it - Both very close to my heart.

Love is Delicious When It’s Chowmein

(Previously Published in UFAK magazine 2018 edition)

Chowmien – the ultimate comfort food for every Bengali kid (at least in my generation). I am sure, each one of us who grew up on chow mien has a lot of fond memories related to it. So here comes a piece that is very close to my heart not just because it is about Chowmien but also because of the people who are mentioned in this write-up.

As a child, I found a visit to the restaurant the most irksome outing. You get dressed up happy and joyous for an outing. You find your parents to be in the happiest mood and then you head towards a place where you are supposed to be nice, silent, not run around, not make noise – what the heck! With absolutely nothing to do you are tempted to play with the cutleries kept so nicely arranged right in front of you. But dare you touch even a spoon and you are faced with glaring eyes of your parents. I am sure many of us can relate to this.

My story of visiting a restaurant was nothing more than that. But then, one day, a magic called Chowmien happened to me.

Chowmien - The First Feel of It

It came in all its decadence dressed with greens and reds tossed together with small chunks of chicken and scrambled egg. I asked - what is this?

The reply came – Chowmien. A never heard before name – it touched the chord with me somewhere. Instinctively, I tried to pick a thread with my hands exposing myself once again to the wrath of the elders who did not let the moment pass without a word or two about behaving in a restaurant.

Nevertheless, one of the benevolent guardians swirled it around the fork and helped it into my mouth.

And then ---- the taste, the aroma, and the flavors engulfed my senses, to say the least. I had never tasted anything like this before. The perfect balance of spices, the crunchy vegetables, the lightly sautéed chicken, the perfectly caramelized scrambled eggs, and more than all that the spiced noodle threads.

Could all these vegetables taste so well? The carrots, the beans, and what was that? Did I just bite on cabbage? I was completely smitten, head over heels in love with Chowmien. I scraped and ate even the last piece of green onion sticking to the plate. Much like when love strikes for the first time I remained silent all through that evening.

What followed next…
Mamma – What you want to eat for lunch, my Dear?
Me -‘Please make chow mien for me.’

Incessant demands to have chow mien at every odd hour of the day, till the time my Mom pulled out a ‘Desh Bidheser Ranna’ recipe book and summoned for the ingredients. Every ingredient was brought even if required a run from Salt Lake City to New Market. The perk for her was that I will eat the vegetables that usually end up being lined up at the side of my plate after every meal.

The vegetables were meticulously cut, the noodles boiled and tossed with all the sauces and spiced mentioned in the recipe. But alas! The love failed to create its magic in the home kitchen. The balance of spices, sauces, vegetables, and noodles was broken somewhere. It lacked that crisp, the veggies were overcooked, the noodles were overcooked, and sticking to each other, the taste of salt and sourness came overbearing. In short, my heart broke!

The Tryst Continues….

My Mom, who was celebrated for her culinary prowess refused to take this failure lying down. She dug for more recipe books, discussed with her peers and just then Dolly Aunty – another culinary Supremo – our neighbor and my Mom’s soul sister suggested – ‘Didi, sauté the vegetables separately and try mixing the noodles after putting the flame off. I mix them up with my hands in another vessel.’

The advice was followed yet the magic could not be recreated. The noodles being overcooked was held responsible for the debacle.

Pat - came the next tip from Dolly Aunty – ‘Didi, try putting the boiled noodles in the fridge overnight.’ The outcome – the noodles stuck to the base of the frying pan while frying.

Finally, she told my Mom, “You let it be. I will make Chowmien for our next Ladies Meet. I am sure she will love it.” Well, she made it a couple of weeks later. And it was a level or two higher than what my mother made. But even that failed to create the magic I was looking for.

First Mom, then Dolly Aunty, then some other aunty, relatives, newlywed Boudis – the tryst continued with all possible combinations including potatoes, cauliflowers, peas, Maggi masala, and what not! Finally, I settled with whatever was available.

Dejected, I lost all hopes of savoring a plateful of homemade chow mien and resorted to looking forward to our visits to China Para in Tangra – just praying that it happened more often. Speaking of Tangra – the love continued to grow more with Thai Soup, Chilli Chicken, the aroma of the vinegar tempered with green chilies, the red chilly sauce, the red hanging lanterns, the white serving plates to the ever so hospitable waiting staffs.

Then One Day in School…

As one of my classmates opened her lunch box, a familiar aroma filled the air. And guess what? She had brought chow mien for lunch. Her father happened to be one of the most incredible cooks I have known. Owing to his job posting in Abu Dhabi he had perfected a lot of international recipes with the exact precision and authenticity.

Finally, I was eating the first homemade noodles that I could pass as a close match to the one I grew up savoring in Tangra. Then what? I waited to see the noodle being made in front of my eyes at my friend’s house. And it happened soon. Recipe demonstration - not by Uncle though, but by my friend, Rupa. And that was more motivating for me to try my hands at it instead of expecting it from others.

So here are the differences that I noticed –

• Firstly, the quintessential Bengali ‘bonti’ had to be ditched for a chopping board and a sturdy knife.
• Secondly, the cut was different – onions and capsicums were halved and made into thin semicircle slices
• Thirdly, capsicums were deseeded
• She grated the carrots and cabbage (well, one small deviation; nevertheless, ensured great taste)
• The most important thing – she added ajino motto (the controversial MSG – monosodium glutamate – the ultimate tastemaker for all Chinese dishes) after adding salt and pepper and before adding vinegar and the other sauces.
• Al dente – the feel and texture of the noodles that it should have when it’s just done when to stop cooking, and how to prevent overcooking - I have to give this credit to my friend. I learned it from her.

I still remember my spice loving friend adding a generous pinch of red chilly powder to it adding an apologetic – ‘because-I-like-it-a-little-spicy’ look. ‘Don’t worry, you will like it,’ she added. Well, I did like it!

Now it was my turn

Highly motivated by my friend, I planned to take up the baton. I followed her procedure as I had seen and finally arrive much closer. My innovation – I added chopped ginger and green chilies in the oil at the very beginning before adding the onions which rendered a unique gingery flavor.

Once I mastered the basic skills, I used some off-beat combinations as well. One of my desi versions had a weird alu-borboti’ with the scrambled egg which was quite a hit among my friends. Until one day after marriage when my husband made a face saying – who adds potatoes and ‘borboti’ to noodles? That was the last day that my kitchen ever saw this unique marriage between ‘alu-borborti-bhaja’ and Chinese noodles. I still like to savor the alu-phoolkopi-scrambled-egg version that my Boudi makes for a Sunday breakfast at my house.

My learning and perfecting the art of making noodles continued. A lot of it got perfected after marriage under the guidance of my mother-in-law from whom I learned to add just the right amount of spices in the sequence they should be added, the right amount of frying the vegetables, and much more. I also learned chicken and prawns needed no prior marinating for being added to the noodles. My in-laws have a much-evolved taste for authentic flavors in cooking - be it Indian or international. Hence, I owe them the final credit for the perfect noodle that I make now.

Arrived at Last!

Chinese cooking as a whole needs a lot of precision and accuracy. The cuts, temperature, and humidity – everything matters. And once you have mastered it, it becomes your second nature. By this time and age, most Bengali households have perfectly cooked homemade chow mien as a staple. Ask for it any time of the day and you get it. But getting there during the early 80s without the Youtube tutorial was indeed a great feat.

But despite Youtube, you will still find a North Indian neighbor asking – ‘can’t we just put everything in the pressure cooker and get one whistle?’ My answer to them – try it! Your journey is just about to begin. Let me know when you arrive at a perfectly pressure-cooked noodle. I will be waiting eagerly.