Y ? Me

Chapter 1

Food Court: Foods Unlimited

Pimpri-Chinchwad, Pune

26th November 2008

12:30 p.m.

Sindhuja was seated in a food court, busy talking over her cell phone, while Pritam was threading her way with two food trays in her hand. She guessed the person at the other end should only be Varun because Sindhuja did not even realize that she had brought their food trays and the food was getting cold, uneaten.

An exasperated Pritam shouted, Sindhuja, I should have made you stand in the queue, don’t you realize the food is getting cold, I shall finish both the trays . . . I’m famished.

Will call you back; bye for now. Cutting the call, Sindhuja said, Oh! I’m sorry, I did not see you coming; that was Varun. As she was also equally famished, she pulled her tray from predator Pritam and was surprised to see the overcrowded food counters.

Prit that’s why I told you, we could have gone to Orient Bay, the chef is my friend, and it would have been really cool.

My dear friend, the chef may be your friend, executive chef may be your father-in-law, but I don’t want to have a divorce proceedings filed on me by my beloved husband, don’t you realize we should have hit the express highway by now, while we are still in Pimpri-Chinchwad, Pritam snapped and Sindhuja fell silent.

Both were busy eating for a while and Sindhuja said, "Okay okay, I know our trip got extended, but be happy that Universal Systems is getting their 2 MIO, which they badly need and Mr. Apte is too pleased with our work. He even thanked Chirag personally for sending us both."

Pritam was visualising her boss, the poker-faced Chirag’s reaction to this news and the amount he has to shell out as bonus to them.

Sensing Pritam’s feelings, Sindhuja said, Prit please give some benefit of doubt to Chirag, he is a nice man . . .

Ignoring Sindhuja, Pritam was busy picking her laptop and hand bag from the adjacent seat and started walking. Sindhuja dropped her tissue on the food tray and ran to join her.

Arre yaar I know you are really worn out, I’m honoured to be your chauffeur, and you will reach your home ASAP, now please smile.

Pritam was feeling much better after her lunch. She asked, Oh! Dear where do you get all this energy from? You are such a fabulous driver. I always enjoy your driving, but today I’m just worn out.

Don’t worry, if you want to sleep take the entire back seat, I’ll play some music for company, now come on . . . we shall move. Both of them joined hands and walked towards the parking lot.

Prit sat in the rear seat and was trying hard not to sleep, as she felt it was unfair to Sindhu. Sindhu called her mother, "Amma, I’m on the express highway, yeah, at last I’m coming home, I shall drop Prit and should be in by five. Listen, Varun is joining us for dinner; he wants your usual baby potatoes fry and tomato rasam . . . yeah! I’m giving it to Prit," she nudged Prit to remove the cell phone from hands-free mode.

Prit opened her eyes, and delinking the hands-free from the phone she spoke, "OK aunty, please don’t worry, I’ll tell her not to over speed. Oh! Sure I’ll tell her that she is not ‘Michael Schumacher’. Even before Prit could let her know what her mother told her, Sindhu knew the content of the conservation between her friend and her mother and was busy shifting the gear to five and gave a light thrust on the accelerator.

Poor Prit felt like hitting the roof, she just kept her calm and said, Dear Ms. Sindhuja Srinivasan, hope you listened to your mother Mrs. Vimala Srinivasan, you will not over speed because she and Mr. Varun Shrivatsava are eagerly awaiting your return. She, Pritam Kaur was slowly closing her eyes and mentally wishing that this cute Tamil Nadu-Uttar Pradesh couple should have the best in their lives in Aamchi Mumbai.

3.30 p.m.

Panvel Express Highway

The car was parked to one side and both were refreshing themselves with a hot ‘adrakwalli chai’ from their favourite Deenubhai’s tea shop, who was always enchanted listening to Kishoreda’s evergreen melodies. His love for Kishoreda’s songs doubled when he had this frequent visitor Sindhuja. He would show it by being a perfect DJ, boasting of his collection of old songs, which according to him is ‘THE’ music.

She was very busy foot tapping and went on a nostalgic trip, as he played her favourite song ‘Mere saamne waali khidki mein’, and she failed to hear her phone ringing.

Prit muttered to herself as to why her friend is so complex and why she gets lost so easily, she angrily prompted Sindhu to attend to her cell phone, which was ringing non-stop.

The call was from ‘chef de partie’, Andrea Pavia, from ‘Taj Mahal Palace’, Mumbai.

Surprised and also grinning, Sindhu walked a little away from the loud music and said, Hi chef, what’s up, your girlfriend dumped you again?

With a heavy strain in his voice and unable to enjoy at her dig, he said, Hi Sindhu, hope you are in Mumbai.

No I’m not, but on my way, my work got extended, I’m in Panvel to be precise . . . why, my signature dishes are fixed only for this Sunday morning brunch.

He thanked his stars because he knew she could make it from Panvel and said, "Yeah I know, but as you can hear me, I’m down with a bout of viral infection, there is a corporate dinner meeting for 30 PAX tonight and I can’t make it. But I knew I can bank on you."

With more seriousness in her tone she asked, What time should the dinner be served, what about canapés, bowl food, starters etc, etc? Don’t worry, I’ll take care. Hope Suresh Bhatt’s duty is around that time. Else, ask him to be there, I don’t want us to be running late and I shall drive down straightway.

Relax buddy, those are taken care of, he is very much on duty and he already has the list of the main course menu, you need to take care of that, he chuckled and added, You are such a sweetie pie, you never let me down, I shall inform chef de cuisine about the change in plan and . . . Hey listen, thank you so much.

Oh! Come on chef, get well soon, cutting the call, she signalled Prit to settle Deenubhai’s bill and get into the car fast.

Prit knew from her tone that Sindhu has something up her sleeves and asked her, Chef Sindhuja, would you mind telling me what’s going on?

Get into the car please, I’m running out of time, both of them hurried to the car.

Starting the ignition she said, There is a corporate dinner tonight, Andy is down with viral infection and I need to substitute him, she did not elaborate any further. Prit was worried about her friend and the strain it could cause on the relationship with her short-tempered fiancé Varun. She wanted to confront her, but knew it was of no use. Currently, her friend’s mind was totally shut for any advice as she had donned the chef’s cap. Prit remembered the adage ‘Silence is golden’. She zipped her mouth and switched on the music, as sleep was really far-fetched.

She saw a paradigm shift in Sindhuja from being a management consultant to an Italian ‘Signature Dishes’ chef. Sindhu’s hands were coolly manoeuvring the steering wheel while she informed her mom about the change in plan. She was instructing Chef Suresh over phone on the list of items she needs upon her arrival, which was due in the next 50 minutes.

She then called Varun who was at his desk in his office and as expected was pissed off to the core. He was swearing to himself that post-marriage, he will forbid her from being a weird part-time cook. He however remembered that she doesn’t like to be called a cook instead preferred to be called ‘chef’ and she also boasted saying she has several signature dishes to her credit. It made no difference to him, because neither did he like Italian cuisine nor did he want his fiancé to be a cook aka chef. He was thinking of his relative who asked him, "Ek cook se shaadi karoge?"

Chapter 2

In 2004, the rebellious, petite 5’2" Sindhuja was a 24-year-old girl, with dark brown oval shaped eyes, sharp nose, chiselled high cheek bone, with unmanageable curly tresses, which intrigued many but kept her proud, had a Masters Degree in Business Management. She was also a fabulous amateur cook specialising in Italian and Mediterranean Cuisine. She was an apple of her father’s eye Mr. Srinivasan, retired general manager of Heavy Engineering Works, L&T Powai. On the other hand, her elder sister Sandhya was docile by nature and her mother’s pet, happily settled with her husband and lovable son in Silicon Valley, San Jose, USA.

Soft natured Vimala’s complaints about her second daughter used to reach the deaf ears of Srinivasan. His only mantra was ‘my daughter is always right’. Vimala’s heart was fighting a losing battle, whereas her mind knew that her wayward daughter was only a strong-willed creature, who wanted to fight the so-called ‘pseudo’ society and its idiosyncrasies. She was not a problematic child; in fact, her neighbours adored her for her fierce nature and her sharp brain, and many mothers wanted their daughters to be multi-faceted like her. She had an analytical brain and had to have a rational answer for every question. She had to be convinced, only then will she venture into an activity. She had chalked her own career and was executing that laid out plan till date to the tee. She wanted to be a Management Graduate from a B School. She joined the S P Jain Institute of Management and Research, where she met her best friend Pritam Kaur first, and then her fiancé Varun Srivatsava.

One fine day, she brought Varun home and casually informed her parents about her decision to get married to him. Her father was cool while her mother was dumbstruck. Pritam gave a compilation of articles on inter-state marriage, as she thought her friend will understand the difficulties of inter-state marriage between two people along with their herd of so-called relatives. Sindhuja just shrugged her shoulders and said,Pritam, the marriage is only after three years; I will either sink or learn to swim . . . by then. She was selected through campus interview by IL&FS; everybody thought she would jump at that opportunity because not all are fortunate to get an opportunity like that. True to her nature, she threw people off their balance when she declined the offer. She said she had planned a trip to Italy to hone her skills in Italian and Mediterranean Cuisine from the leading Culinary Institute, ‘Italian Institute for Advanced Culinary & Pastry Arts’ which was shocking to many, including her adorable father.

She calmly explained that the course duration was for six months, further she had to do six months of internship and she would be back with her Master’s Degree in Culinary in a year. Her impulsive decision did not strain her relationship with Varun; rather he used it to his advantage as he was virtually ‘living out of his bags’ with his hectic work schedule in DSP Merrill Lynch. In one of her course workshops in Italy, she happened to meet the well informed gastronome, and the famous Italian Chef Andrea Pavia. He was in Italy on his vacation from his deputation in India. He was amazed and immensely pleased with her nuances, techniques and the presentation skills. She was adjudged the winner on the blind taste test and one of her many signature dishes was born that day. He told her to meet him when she got back to India but she informed him that she was doing the course as a hobby and her main profession was financial management. He left it at that, but at the back of his mind, he wanted her to be a professional chef.

She returned to India as promised in a year and took up a job with a small set up, ‘Evangelist Venture Capital’ who also happened to be Pritam’s employer. When Andy was redesigning his menu for Sunday brunches, he neatly packed her signature dishes in the menu, she was appointed as the ‘Chef de Partis’. Her signature dishes featured on the Sunday brunches at the Restaurant in Taj Mahal Palace, Mumbai.

Her father was detected with cancer and succumbed to it in 2006. Everybody thought that she would take it very hard on her; however she pulled herself up, as she believed in the simple philosophy ‘accept life in its stride’. She in fact mellowed down and was very supportive to her mother. Their bonding grew leaps and bounds.

Now she was parking her car in Taj employee’s car park and was marching towards the lift to reach the kitchen; it opened immediately as though it was awaiting her arrival.

Chapter 3

26th November 2008

4:46 p.m.

Sindhuja deposited her belongings at the security counter and rushed to her locker to pick her chef coat, apron, and cap. Seeing her walking into the kitchen, Suresh and Joel left their benches to meet her.

Hi, chef, do you want to recharge before firing aka frying, I bet it’s going to be a long day.

"Thanks Joel, I would really love to have a filter coffee if Meena maami is around and she must be enthralling the guests with south Indian filter coffee now, she said looking at her watch. Then continued keeping her fingers crossed, I hope everything is under control at your end."

Yeah, don’t worry, mine is under control and will check if she is still around.

She turned towards Suresh and quizzed him as he looked worried, What’s bothering you? Let the cat out of the bag.

As I told you over the phone, from our section, we are required to prepare two Canapés, one starter, three main courses, of which one is the artisan bread, and two desserts.

No bowl food?

Nope.

"Canapés, starter under control, Andy’s artisan bread is to the tee, on the main course – ravioli dough is a little sticky, I did not want to mess it by trying to fix it, I can make an indent for canned ravioli.

As you know, I’m always shaky on the risotto broth; it’s eagerly waiting your arrival."

She just took a deep breath and was racing her mind to fix the issues. By then, Joel was tap dancing with a steaming filter coffee in hand. "Here chef, your filter coffee, maami was winding up her shop, but I caught her in the nick of time."

Inhaling the aroma and sipping the steaming hot coffee she said, I don’t want to let Andy down, it’s a disgrace to him if we used canned ravioli, let me check the dough. I’d like to fix it, but what about the cheese?

Joel replied, "We have received all types of cheese except Caprino cheese. I had placed an indent, but you know the cheeky store keeper is yet to approve and it’s still in the queue."

She was losing her patience and said, "You would have made the indent after the cut-off, I guess. When will you learn to keep up with the time? Be responsible. Calling Unniyatan cheeky is inappropriate especially when you are not right. Let me talk to him. We all know his strict timings and accuracy because of which he is in-charge of the stores. Please don’t repeat it," and she picked the intercom.

The next two hours they unleashed the whirlwind; she fixed the ravioli dough for which Suresh was grateful and he took over from there. She supervised the assistant, who was braising the vegetables, chicken broth, coleslaw, and vegetable carving.

The executive chef and the maître d’hôtel came to check the progress, as it was time for plating, Hi Sindhu, as usual you are proving to be Andy’s lucky mascot, can I check the dish with your permission?

Of course chef, don’t be so humble, I will be privileged if you do the honours. Along with the maître d’hôtel, he tasted the dishes and both of them gave their thumbs up to the dishes. The chef suggested additional garnishing for some dishes, which she readily incorporated.

7:15 p.m.

The bearers came to collect the Canapés, as the corporate dinner party had just commenced and the bartenders were getting ready to serve in the banquet hall. Sindhuja had gone to freshen up, while the others were busy cleaning their benches and getting ready for the regular kitchen tokens to arrive from the restaurant. She returned fresh and was taking stock of the items for the regular menu and Wednesday’s special of the restaurant. Her neck was stiff and fatigue was fast catching up with her because of the long day she had and she knew KTs will peak between 9 p.m. to 11 p.m. One hour later, she looked around and everybody was spinning like a top as the KTs were in queue and surprisingly there were several repeat orders for hummus and thin crust pizzas.

10:30 p.m.

Suresh signalled her that he was taking a break and winked at her, she knew he was going for a quick talk with his girlfriend. She nodded, but informed him with her a stern look to come back fast. Nitin the bearer came to her and said that one of the guests wanted to meet the chef, who had made his dish. She would generally avoid meeting the guest, but Andy would think otherwise. She agreed to meet the guest in the absence of Andy and signalled her assistant Isha to take care of the spicy pumpkin soup on the stove.

Joel, KT till 11 only, be firm, will be back.

Instead of taking the lift to the restaurant she preferred walking on the stairs, as it would energise her. Sir, this is Chef Sindhuja, Nitin introduced her.

She went to the table where the guest was seated. Thanks for coming; I wanted to personally thank you for this wonderful cuttlefish stew, this is my wife, the guest said.

The stew was awesome with risotto rice, not even a morsel of rice is left over, said his wife.

Thank you both for your compliments; it was my pleasure cooking for you, please relish our desserts also, hope to see you again and again . . . Nitin, give them the dessert menu.

Thanks and good night, said the guest.

She left the happy couple to enjoy their food and walked back picking her cell phone from her chef coat pocket to talk her mother.

Hello Amma, I should be home around 11.30, if possible I want to meet Samhita Lal Siddhant, yeah she is our guest tonight, to discuss the cookbook with her. She asked me to meet her before leaving. It’s really getting late, maybe I will ask for an appointment tomorrow, I feel awkward to meet her at a very odd hour. No, no I had a light dinner, I just want to crash onto a bed.

Ok maa give me a break please, I love you, bye bye, and I should have rushed to the kitchen by now, but I should also call Prit.

She dialled Prit’s number, "Hi, hope you had a good nap, how is Teji’s