Edited by Ajitesh Vishwanath
Beyond friends on campus, I usually tend to seek my comfort in coffee and by extension, in food. Whether it is vending machine cold Lays or hot butter maggi to warm me at 12am on a lousy Wednesday. Everyone has food that they seek refuge in. When I am at war with my mind, I recruit from a tub of chocolate chip ice cream.
I have often wondered why that is. Perhaps because food serves as a teleportation device. Bournvita added to milk stirs up memories of my childhood. Happy memories. Naturally then, when faced with chaos or papers due at midnight, I try to indulge in the borrowed moments of the past.Â
Think about it,food carries so much. It carries the love of the hands that prepared it, the gentleness of your friends knowing your precise dhaba order.It holds the memories of the days you’d return from school, to a bowl full of Little Hearts kept on the dining table and the legacy of your family, in the way the dish is prepared. My mother, for example, always puts in a little bit of milk when preparing suji halwa . She says it softens the halwa. So, when the mess was serving it, I thought something was missing, although my friends relished it. But then I could argue nearly nothing compares to the halwa my mother makes.
Other times, something could taste terrible and you absolutely love it because when you first had it, it was memorable and now no rational argument can convince you to give up the dopamine boost. I cannot board my flight without a burger from McDonalds although most would argue it tastes terrible.From a purely taste perspective, I would admit there are better burger places. Yet, these are not outlets where I remember the birthday parties I attended, with paper crowns and happy meals in anticipation of getting the toy of my choice.
Beyond memories, food has also become something to associate people with. Are you a Pizza or a Pasta person? Do you support pineapples on pizza? Slowly, even the people who work at the outlet begin to associate you with your order. The Fuelzone bhaiya starts to pour out the small cappuccino the moment I pay. The bhaiya selling chaat on my street always remembers to make my order a little spicier. It creates such a wonderful sense of acknowledgement.Â
And then there is food that embodies what part of the country you are from. Food that reminds you of home and makes you miss it because nobody on campus cooks it the way it should be. My first meal when I go back to Mumbai is pav bhaji. It is available on campus, but it is undeniably different. Sometimes how we refer to food is not the same either.Â
Explaining the concept of a “frankie” or convincing a friend that bun samosa is actually delicious is usually met with a look that screams “ I am worried for your sanity”. Which is why I think food is also a great means of sheer experimentation. The basic idea of preparing the dish is the same but it has subtle differences in flavour and ingredients.Stumbling upon an unusual symphony of flavours that appeals to the tastebuds.Â
Most of all,food is a wonderful means to create new memories, just as it is to relive old ones. It makes me think of all the dinners at the mess, discussing our days. Hoping that the mess improves their recipe for Rajma. Some of my favourite first year stories begin with the scrambled eggs we made at 2 am because we were convinced dinner was not a priority. Sometimes I do think food is just a tool for survival. Which is true, but it is so much more than that.A meal in itself it might be mundane, but seasoned with the right company or place, it becomes extraordinary.