Baking a cake

For anything to be satisfying, one has to either enjoy the process or the result and it need not have to be a life turning event to be heart warming.

Baking a cake is one such heart warming thing, of course the end result warms some other part of the body, or should I be saying 'parts of the body':-)

From the abstract things of making up of the mind to bake a cake to imagining what it needs to look like to the actual getting down to doing the work of getting all ingredients together to cooking it, it has a very 'calming on the mind' effect, true, there are those nerve wreaking moments as well which shatters the peace of the moment and makes one to give up a few well earned points from above.

The mixing of all ingredients and the sheen the batter takes on as one relentlessly continues to stir the batter is to say the least, beautiful. It shines like every particle in it has a halo. The batter poured to the baking dish falls with such grace it could put any princess of yester era or any finishing school trained lady of present to shame.

Layer the cake with berries, nuts and the like-the imagination is the limit-and the cross section cut of the cake could look like its been dressed in finery.

The baking process and the change the batter undergoes could be discussed under a wide variety of subjects-the batter rising to 3 times its height and the physical transformation is one for the philosophers. The texture of the cake surface with the troughs and mountains would take geographers back to some other time and place they had been to. Mathematicians, Chemists and Physicists probably would be interested in the ratio of increase, the compounds and catalyst that facilitate the increase and series of reactions that lead to the increase respectively. The economists for sure wonder if they could draw up a diminishing marginal utility curve and predict exactly when the cooking stops and over cooking starts or once the cake is ready what the optimum eating quantity should be in order to maximise the consumer surplus.

No matter what the result of baking process does to various people - the end result can be very gratifying. But if the cake refuses to let go of the mould that's the beginning of the stuff nightmares are made of. Then one after another boxing, fencing, wrestling and judo have to be resorted to hoping for maximum dislodge minimum damage.

Then there is the matter of icing where commonsense gives way to whims and caprice. The layer of icing could cover an ugly looking cake and make it look divine or make a lovely looking, 'no frills needed' cake look nonsensical. But that's just for the moment, put it in the month and the mist is cleared and truth is revealed or realised depending on who has the honour or charge of tasting it.

Ofcourse I havent really dealt with either the aromas and the odours of baking.I will leave that to your imagination. Neither have I discussed the onlooker watching the play of emotions and passions on the baker's face. I will just mention 'Nigella' for that. It would be easier to watch her bake and understand what I mean else for me to explain would require another post altogether.

 

Rajasthan Aravalli trek-Nov 2012

Madhan and I had been on a trek in the Aravalli range in Rajasthan in the Kumbalgarh reserve forests in Nov 2012.

The forests were so green and so dense in places, this was nothing like what I had imagined the desert state to be. I had to keep reminding myself that I was in Rajsthan and not in Mizoram or the evergreen rain forests of western ghats.

Got to eat the food of the region, the amount of ghee and oil used was quite shocking but I guess it goes with the temperature swings in the day, the days were hot and the nights extremely cold and we weren't anywhere near the desert.

Had the popular curry of Ker Sangri (dried desert berries and dried desert beans), the Sangri costs Rs 800 a kilo. Didn't find it too appetizing, probably is an acquired taste.

The fort of Kumbalgarh, the history surrounding it, especially the part of Maharana Pratap's Afghan horse Chetak, who carried Pratap to safety depite being injured in the Haldi ghati war with the Mughals was touching.

The jain temple at Ranakpur was lovely. We also did visit another jain temple called the Muchala Mahaveer, this was the only Mahaveer statue to have had a moustache. The statue does not have a moustache today.

For me the Parasuram temple at Futahdeval turned out to be a pilgrimage of sorts. After a 10 hour trek we had reached this 'off the map' village of Futahdeval, called thus as there is a broken temple in the village. About 1.5 kms downhill the village in a cave in the mountain, Parasuram is said to have meditated on Lord Shiva, who had appeared before Parasuram with his family. There is a 'self manifested' stone with 2 eyes representing Shiva and Parvathi and shapes on the same stones of Karthik and Ganesh. The small 3 feet diameter cave is full of stalactites dripping water, and there is one dripping water right on the self manifested stone. The downhill walk for the few of us who attempted the second trek of the day took nearly an hour and surprisingly the uphill climb which should have taken at the very least 1.5 hours just took us about 45 minutes or so it seemed.

The peacocks and Parakeets are every where, in the jungles and in the vilages adding a touch of brilliance.

Udaipur where we spent a couple of days after the trek is a nice planned city. The city palace is ingeniously built around a hill and thus has trees on the 5th floor which is the top of the hill. The Palace is beautiful no doubt but was very show offy, as the halls and approches were grand and the sleeping rooms very small. The kings kin today is making good money from the tourists, smart guy. At his whim he can cancel the sound and light show and give away the venue for wedding receptions, and thats how we missed the sound and light show which turned out to be a blessing as we went for a wonderful song and dance show at Bagour ki Haveli.

Also enjoyed the street food, puppet shows and sunset in the Fateh Sagar at Udaipur.

Orissa-Dec 2012

December 2012-Orissa trek

Started the trek from the temple town of Puri moving away from inhabited areas and for 2 days walked on beautiful white sand beach with blue waters leading to the Chilka lagoon. It could have been a very heart warming experience but it was puntuated at very regular intervals by dead olive ridley turtles lying on the beach, they were all hit by fishing trawlers in the ocean. There were about 60 dead turtles on a 30 km stretch from Puri to the end of land at which point the Chilka meets the sea. It was heart rending to see those majestic animals lying inanimate, some so fresh that the blood was still trickling down. Sounds ghastly, looked ghastlier and must have been a million times so for the turtles who were hit and mangled in their home.

Chilka in a word is huge at a 1000 square kms. Was hoping to see a lot of migratory birds, but they apparently prefer to nest in an area called Nalaban which is sort of off limits for travel junkies like me. Did see the majestic white bellied sea eagle, the beautiful egrets, terns, sand pipers and Ibis'. Also saw small white fishes flying through water almost like in life of pie, except here it was just one fish at a time. Saw the heads and fins of Irrawady dolphins, that was pretty exciting.

For me the most mysterious part of the trek which am still to come to terms with was being able to see the sun rise and as well as set in water. Being on the eastern cost of the country I should have been able to see just the sun rise in the water and the sun set would be in the opposite direction in the land mass. It was a double treat but still quite startling, the only answer to this is the land curving into itself so that there is water even in the west.

And for the first time experienced the excitement of spending a night in the jungle, all the other times my night stays in jungle have been erriely quite. Stayed at the Draupathi temple at Bali Harchandi in the middle of a jungle which was full of foxes that made no pretense of keeping their existence quiet. There were lots of dogs and cats living in complete harmony with each other at the temple premises and during the day time there was no sign of any wild life but sun down and it was a different tune everyone was singing. The foxes howled and the Dogs responded and the concert went on through the night.

I visited the charming city of Cuttack and the width of Mahanadi was unbelievable till I saw Godavari by Rajmundry a few days later. Godavari is massive, it seems like she stopped balooning on the sides cause the construction company building the bridge decided they wouldnt extent the bridge beyond a KM.

Coming back to Mahanadi, she was so quite and calm its difficult to imagine her wreak havoc every monsoon.

Bubneshwar looked like a city that was racing to catchup with the metros and hence held far less charm to me.

Puri on the other hand is a delightful small town catering to the pilgrims of the temple. I spent an hour buying filigree worked silver jewellery (made of silver wire wound round and round into various pieces of jewellery). And spent another hour shopping for cotton sarees of lovely patterns from Cuttack and Sambalpur.

The street food on the Grand Street-'eat as much as you like and it would still cost less than Rs 50'. The Odiya sweets of Khaja (wheat flour rolled into strips, deep fried and dipped in sugar syrup), Chenna Jalebi (tasted like jamoon but looked like a vada), Pahala Rasgulla (apparently this is where the rasgulla originated), dum aloo dahi vada (vada soaked in buttermilk and served with potato gravy) and the ultimate of it all poori, samosa, idli, vada, bajji all served with crushed raw green chillies and a laddle each of potato gravy and peas gravy seemed like a mix of cuisines of south, west and north India.

Just about covered everything above except me washing my face in the salt water of Chilka (there wasnt any other water except drinking water that was sourced with difficulty by the fisherfolk digging in the earth) and the nights were really cold (snuggled in the sleeping bag to keep warm) and the days not so hot. Funny, how the currents in the ocean makes a difference to the region.