The irresistible luchi and mangsho combination

Musician and foodie Nondon Bagchi takes us on a simple but delectable gastronomic journey of a no-frills meal...

It is strange how, when you learn a brand new word for the first time, it suddenly starts cropping up all over the place. Or how, when you espouse some new theory or philosophical tenet, it suddenly becomes topical even though it took shape quite privately and independently.

A similar thing happened to me recently. I had been going around nurturing the intriguing, perhaps wacky idea of making a meal of only one dish, dispelling all my conditioning and upbringing of starting with shukto or shak, moving on to dal and vegetables and then on to fish or meat. Rejecting even the concept of a single-course meal with more than one item in it. Strictly one item, with only the carbohydrate supplement of rice or any kind of bread, was the concept.

Such were the thoughts percolating within when I bumped into my friend and well-wisher, Khokon Mookerji, a couple of weekends ago. As usual we got talking about food ? Khokonda is a man of vast experience ? and uncannily enough, he said, ?You know, Nondon, in the mid 70s I was involved doing some extensive research on Awadhi cuisine and I met the Nawab of Rampur who was based in Delhi at that time. He had very definite views about how food should be eaten. This man was spoilt for choice ? he had an army of cooks who could turn out excellent meals, be they Indian, Continental or Chinese ? but he said that the one and only way to truly relish good food was to have only one item at any given meal.?

I told Khokonda that the same idea had been in my mind for some time. He went on to narrate how the good Nawab had asked if the idea of a one-item meal existed in Bengali cuisine, to which Khokonda had responded that we often ate Khichuri. ?That?s cheating,? the Nawab had said. ?Because you couldn?t eat Khichuri without all the accompaniments.?

Of course he was right. Any good Bengali served Khichuri without fried aubergines, potol (wax gourd), potatoes or a variety of other vegetables and fish, would rise from the table in a sulk, go to the nearest bar, have a stiff drink and pig out on a hearty Chinese meal before heading home slightly appeased.

The concept of a one-item meal exists in many cultures. Just randomly, one can think of the Thukpa of the Tibetans, which is a bowl of noodles in broth with a mixture of meat and vegetables served on top. A good recipe for this can be found in The Calcutta Cookbook by Minakshie Dasgupta, Bunny Gupta and Jaya Chaliha. The Italians have spaghetti a la Bolognese (among many others) which is a meat sauce made with minced beef, salt pork (or unsmoked bacon), onions, carrots, celery, tomato concentrate, beef stock, dry white wine and seasoning, served with spaghetti. The Poles and the Russians have Borsch, a really nutritious meal-in-a-dish which can be served chilled or hot made with beef, a knuckle of veal (or duck?s carcass), leeks, turnips, celery, parsley, beetroot, red cabbage, potatoes, onions, mushrooms, red wine, sour cream and seasoning. The French have Pot-au-feu for which I have seen a recipe in which lean beef, shin of veal, ox liver, chicken liver, carrots, leeks, turnips, celery, Spanish onions, cabbage, potatoes, stock and seasoning are used. But I am sure the good Nawab was not talking about such meals. He was actually saying that even if there is a huge spread before you, the only way to do justice to your gastronomic aestheticism is to choose one item and stick with it, helping after helping.

Just imagine a meal only of luchi and mangsho. Any number of luchis and any amount of mangsho. No distractions. If you think of the best luchis you have ever had and the best mangsho, this must be close to nirvana. Or freshly steamed rice and any preparation of Ilish maach. Or mulayam parathas and any meat, poultry or game bird (e.g. partridge/quail) dish from Awadhi cuisine. Or rice and Goa-sausage curry. One could go on and on. Any takers?