Our son, like our daughter who's now at university so out of her father's earshot, hears this every now and then, especially when the topic of university fees comes up.
My husband likes to point out to them that he was awarded a scholarship in high school which not only covered his tuition fee, he even had a bit left over which became his pocket money. Yes, he's not winning the most popular Dad award any time soon. He's an Indian father whose two primary concerns at this point in time are:
1) his son should work hard to get the grades he needs to go to the university of his choice.
2) his son should know that money doesn't grow on trees.
June, 2016. My husband's alma mater informed him that if he didn't collect his degree (which had been awarded to him 25 years ago but he had failed to collect it as he was not living in the country anymore) it would be sent back to the University. And anyone who knows anything about offices in universities of India will tell you that it's easier to find a needle in a haystack than a piece of document you've worked hard for.
So one hot and humid June afternoon in 2016, we found ourselves immersed in his recollections of his dear St. Xavier's. One of his college friends joined him and the two of them dipped in and out of anecdotes from their days, teachers they loved and the ones they loathed, stories of wearing two or three underpants on days of caning etc.etc.
'What's your favourite memory?' I asked
'The only really clear memory I have is the 8 o'clock break. Bhookh zor se lagee hotee thee --we would be starving so we'd run down the narrow staircase to head to the canteen to be first in line for luchee aaloo and samosas.'
College started at 6.00 am for them!
Despite the heat, we relished luchee aloo (fried bread and potato curry) and samosas with tea that day. There's something special about sharing someone's food memories with them. It's a slice of their childhood you can taste. I think our children saw the boy their Dad once was and forgave him for his 'scholarship' toots (at least for the time being).
Jhaal Muri : jhaal means hot and muri means puffed rice.
It's a popular street snack in Kolkata.
No day in Kolkata is complete without a helping of this delicious, mouth watering, crunchy, tangy delight.
I used to stop by at a jhaal muri stall almost every evening after work.
St. Xavier's College has its own jhaal muri waala. I was impressed.
My husband's friend made sure we were properly impressed so he gave the guy instructions on making a dish he makes for a living!
Yes, as Indians, we do love to give advice: lots of it and it's all for free:)
In case your taste buds are tingling like mine are right now, check out this recipe video:
It's Friday today. The husband is at home and he does make a mean jhaal muri.
I reckon we'll have a snacky lunch today:)
*****
Do you have any food memories from you school days you'd like to share?
