THE BEST PASTA FROM RUCHI'S PRECARIOUS KITCHEN!

Hey, those of you who want to taste the best Pasta dish ever, take the following route and end up in the culinary heaven! I am sure, the chefs, the connoisseurs, the epicures and the gourmets will disagree with me but who gives a damn anyway; it is you the public that I really care about, so let’s have Ruchi’s Special Pasta and make them ‘Go Green’ with Envy.


RUCHI’S ‘GO GREEN’ WITH ENVY PASTA (SINCE 2006)

IN 14 SUPER-EASY STEPS

IF I CAN DO IT, YOU CAN DO IT BETTER!


1. Boil the pasta and make sure that while they are properly boiled, they don’t go all soggy or break but stay nice and firm.

2. Drain all the water out and to keep the pasta from sticking with each other, rinse it with cold water.

3. In a wok/deep pan/kadhai, put some olive oil.

4. Add chopped baby spinach (Take reasonable quantity of baby spinach because once in the wok with the heat on, the mass substantially diminishes.)

5. Put salt and pepper as per taste.

6. Add the boiled pasta to it and stir well so that everything mixes properly and the pasta starts looking green.

7. Add finely chopped Italian herbs including any or all of the following: Dill, Basil, Thyme, Rosemary (I like to avoid it, it’s a little bitter), parsley, sage, oregano, chives, marjoram etc. (I would like to put in at least 4 or 5 of these.)

8. Add dry oregano (preferably) or any of the above mentioned herbs, dried.

9. Add 1 and a half to 2 heaped tablespoons of basil pesto. (If you are buying it, I like the one with pine nuts in it.)

10. You can add more salt and pepper if need be.

11. Mix everything together.

12. Nothing really needs major cooking. Just as everything is nicely heated and mixed together, you can turn the flame off.

13. To serve, garnish with olive oil, dried oregano and freshly grated parmesan.

14. Before starting, say, “Ruchi’s pasta is the best pasta ever. Amen!”


FOR YOU DIETER BEHNS AND BHAIS,
THIS RECIPE IS A BLESSING IN DISGUISE…
JUST REMOVE THE GARNISH,
AND RELISH THE DISH!

AND FOR THOSE OF YOU, WHO DON’T GIVE A DAMN,
ABOUT DIET AND SUCH OTHER SHAM…
ADD SOME OLIVE OIL, PUT IN SOME PARMESAN,
SAVOUR IT AND THANK RUCHI FOR HER CULINARY IMAGINATION!!


I must tell you guys that the only reason of my unveiling my secret recipe is that I don’t know when next I will get a chance to cook this dish myself. In Australia I used to be able to find some really good pasta and all the Italian herbs that made the dish possible in the first place; I don’t know where to go for the same in India.

So those of you who know where to find these things from, Good for you! Whereas, the ignorant ones like myself, Bad Luck! You don’t know what you have missed out on! Of course the ignorant but creative ones, All the best! because I trust you to take inspiration from this and evolve it into your own dish with local ingredients and hence a ‘local flavour’.

AN ODE TO FACEBOOK

Okay guys, it’s official! I am addicted to Facebook. I am sure there will be a lot of people like me out there. But I have a story to tell…unlike most of you (na na na na na na!).

Just about a month back, I would run as far from Facebook as I could. I created a profile because a friend forced me to but never ever bothered to go on and check what was happening in that world. I preferred My Space or Orkut. I just thought Facebook was a bit too difficult to grasp; too many things happening at once; too many applications, people sending in requests I couldn’t get my head around. All in all, it felt more like a complex web of things to dodge rather than a comfy chair where you sit and send messages to people who are either too far or too undesirable to be called – These things are the best way to keep in touch, I believe. You say a ‘hi’ and then you forget about them for a couple of months, again after which you drop may be another ‘hi’ said slightly more creatively for deception. Anyway coming back to my reluctance to stepping into the dark waters(!!) of Facebook, I was in fact quite forcefully led into it with a point to prove and my ego scarred by a friend of mine who kept saying that after all it wasn’t rocket science and if indeed I found it difficult to understand, I must have an IQ of 30 (which I believe is pretty bad). With those words I was faced with a challenge. I had to prove to her, to myself and to the world that I wasn’t a 30 on the IQ and I was certainly not one of those to run away from challenges. So that was it!

Not that anything got any easier. I was still just as averse to it. While the mind had journeyed from being reluctant to being ambivalent, the heart was fiercely determined as ever. So there I was. My first look at Facebook happened at last. It didn’t look inviting at all. We shared mutual repugnance. I was inundated with information I thought was least necessary or desired. I managed to reach the bay and kept at it for weeks to come. While I may have started logging in more often than I did before (which was never), I didn’t do much but look around and back out in disgust. People kept poking me and I didn’t know how to stop them or shout back at them or superpoke them (it’s great by the way, you can even throw flaming poop at people which I only discovered today when I saw it smeared on my face thanks to a friend who until then was only hugging and cuddling me…but it’s kind of a dream come through, I mean throwing it) and I kept thinking this place was the best place to purge your frustration but alas, I was only at the receiving end since I knew none of the techniques.

And then one day something happened. On surface it was just another day. The alarm went off, I snoozed it, it went off again after its stipulated 10 minutes, I snoozed it again and again and again until my alarm sprouted legs and kicked me out of the bed…all very usual…I brushed my teeth, cooked some vege and heated my bread, had my bath…yeah yeah okay…I stop here but you get the drift. It was all very normal and on such a seemingly dreary day, I reached the office, half an hour late as usual. But things were different. I couldn’t tell what had gone wrong but there was a strange desire, someone was urging and I, ignoring, urging and ignoring, ignoring and urging until that someone put their foot down….right on my foot and man, did it hurt! But I didn’t react because I needed it and for the first time I knew my time was up. It was time to conquer this strange strange world. I started exploring and I found stuff like movie quizzes, IQ tests, honesty boxes (well I was always at the receiving end of nasty remarks while playing ‘Fish Tank’ or something it was called in school and this was my chance to give it back), compare people, minekey, You’d rather and other such crazy applications which warmed me a little to the whole idea of Facebook. And then there was no looking back.

Gradually, it became an addiction and now has reached the intensity of slow poisoning. It also got me blogging, which is a good thing I guess…for the writer at least. Now I have to go back to Facebook every 10 minutes and hope to find loads of messages, comments and ratings waiting for me. So while I am at work juggling with 20 things and doing it quite successfully, there comes a point when I choose to just drop the balls and enter Facebook with wide eyes full of hope as if I were entering a producer’s office who had promised me to fund my script lying in the drawers for the past 7 years.

But did I mention that there are rough times too. Those times when nothing awaits you there, no messages, no comments, nothing, when life seems drab, there are always a million quizzes to cheer you up. And those quiz makers are Gods, I tell you! They know you in and out only through a few questions. In 4 questions, they tell you who you are, what you look like, what animal you’d be reborn as (which in my case is a HIPPO by the way…some life to look forward to!), who you’d date and also what his name would be. Isn’t that amazing guys? It’s a miracle, I’d say.

So that is Facebook for you. Changing lives! (Thank goodness my family is not reading this…)

AN ODE TO THOUGHTS

At the risk of sounding clichéd, proverbial and philosophical, I am going to have to draw an embarrassing metaphor to try and explain where I am going with this blog. Here it comes. Life is a Rubik’s cube. Very few understand the pattern and only a handful crack the trick. I am certainly not one of them. Just like most people, I am constantly groping in the dark to make sense of my life and the world around. But what is interesting is that this obscure and incomprehensible life is richly laden with situations, events and thus thoughts. These thoughts emerge as I fall and then again when I rise, sometimes with effort and sometimes with fervour.

Actually thoughts are the funniest things. They seem to bombard you from all the directions, at any time during the day or night and take you to places unguarded, unforeseen and untrodden. They can be simple, they can be complex and they can be outright bizarre. And man, can they be powerful! They can wreck you and leave you frail and feeble. They can invigorate you and motivate you to go on living and loving this strange life. They can give you ideas - ideas for a better life, ideas for a richer life and ideas for a creative life.

If such is the case then why do we suppress our thoughts so much? Why do we force ourselves to push them back in the darker recesses of our labyrinthine mind? I mean, of course, we are all social animals and sometimes you just have to...for the sake of living a symbiotic life. But aren't we doing it a bit much these days? Aren't we restricting ourselves to blindly following the thoughts of the larger group out there? Why aren't we allowing our beautiful minds to flourish and grow through those thoughts that bear ideas and expressions? Why does everything new and different always amount to blasphemy? Why are stranger hairstyles not acceptable to us? Why are dress codes so strictly adhered to? Why do we watch only Bollywood or Hollywood movies with a certain pace and linear structure? Why does everyone have to believe in God? Why do I have to be tolerant to those who think astrology is science? (Well I do. I do have to be tolerant. That is what we all need to learn to be. I think that is the only way for individuality to sneak in. But coming back to astrology; this is again a product of not rational and individual thinking but blind adherence to 'Indianness'.) Why do I have to belong to a religion, perform its never-ending rites and rituals and why, oh why, do I have to belong at all? These are questions I ask myself everyday. These are questions I wish people asked themselves more often. These are the thoughts I wish weren't suppressed so often as they are.

Sometimes when I think just how many categories I fall into, I get amazed. Why can't I simply break out of all those boundaries that stifle me and be a nomad just like my thoughts? Being an Indian student, you can either take up Arts, Science or Commerce. Why the bloody hell can't I choose mathematics and English literature together as my subjects? Again, why are we limiting our thoughts to regular, mundane and accepted?

The key I think is like I mentioned earlier; tolerance. We need to learn to listen, to bear with what we hear and to give people a real chance to express themselves. We need to accept that there can be diverse ways of thinking and living life. We need to stop oppressing people on basis of what they are, how they think and how they live their lives. And when we do reach that level of tolerance towards 'the other', we need to do some creative and yet rational thinking for once. We just need to think and I swear, we won't need wings to fly.

JUST 2 FILMS OLD AND OH, HOW I ADMIRE TRUFFAUT!

I watched Shoot the piano player by Truffaut recently.

I have totally fallen in love with Truffaut after having watched just 2 of his films...Bed and Board (fabulous) and the one I mentioned above.

What is unique about him is this utter disregard for the normal, the conventional and the law. The way he sets out to destroy all kinds of conventions and norms in his films is fascinating to watch...even murders and death in his films seem commonplace, inevitable, laughable at times and yet poignant. The most amazing thing about this is that he is never too weird or too boring to watch...he is not like the absurd school of thought or the surreal school of filmmaking who leave many untouched, baffled and bored...

Another quality of his, which is in a way a part of his disregard for conventions, is his mixing of the genres...it's not a mess like Indian masala films, neither generically distinct like Hollywood...it's a very conscious effort at mixing the two or more unseemingly disparate moods...like for example, drama, action, tragedy, social reality and comedy in Shoot the piano player. Similarly, romance, drama, tragedy, social reality and comedy in Bed and Board. And this mélange is not the usual "black comedy" either...which is essentially treating a rather serious subject through comedy...its plain mixing of completely different genres.

And most importantly, what keeps any viewer hooked to his films, is his inherent sense of humour. His comic outlook towards the most serious and tragic events in life, his frivolous perspective on life as a whole is endearing to watch. There is humour in every scene...no matter how routine, tragic or grave the content may be.

His acute understanding of human relationships and especially the romantic ones is incredibly touching, universally appealing and identifiable. He brings out the most routine sentiments in his dialogues draped in a humorous garb and leaves the viewer laughing hysterically, tickled and touched all at once.

THE GREATEST TENNIS MATCH EVER

Hi. I am back from hibernation from which I only got out occasionally to catch up on my sleep. Now that I am back, I just have to share my joy with you guys because I am sure the crazy ones like myself are just as ecstatic about it as I am. Without further ado, let me tell you that I am talking about the thriller, the drama, the Wimbledon 2008 final clash between the titans – Roger Federer and Rafael Nadal on July 06, 2008.

So those of you who missed out on the thriller, here’s your chance to catch up...more like get an inkling of what it might have been had you watched it yourself and consequently and justifiably develop infinite guilt for not having been able to or worse not having chosen to! Although I was shamelessly biased in favour of Nadal who I have been backing for the last 3 Wimbledon finals, I couldn't help but appreciate the wholesome entertainment, the supreme quality tennis and the roller-coaster thrill the two together provided. I knew it from the beginning that it wasn't going to be anything less than Shakespearean drama but at the same time I was praying from the bottom of my heart that Nadal finish it off in 3 sets. After 2 sets I was hopeful but never sure. After 3 sets, I was flinching. After 4 sets, I was freaking out and in the 5th set, well, I am surprised that I got out alive. Many of you might have felt the way I did but I was alone in that house with no one or nothing to distract me or provide any sort of moral support, consolation or motivation and all of that, made it dramatic, almost maddeningly so.

Anyway, I strongly feel that had it not come down to tiebreakers in the 3rd and the 4th, Nadal would have won it long back. The moment it was tiebreak time, I knew it was a Federer terrain because of the kind of serve he possesses and the number of aces he conjured throughout the proceedings. However, what kept me going was the knowledge that there is no tiebreaker in the final set. Nadal was the one who quite consistently broke Federer; Federer was regularly failing in that department so somewhere in my heart I knew that Nadal had better chance of taking the 5th set. And how he did! Although, like I said before, I wished for Nadal to beat Federer in straight sets, had that really happened, we would have missed out on being a part of the greatest match the game of tennis has produced (at least in my tennis viewing lifetime) and the great spectacle the two champions put together.

Any less intensity, any less vigour, any less stamina, any less power, any less mental toughness and any less desire to hold that golden cup in one's hands from either of the players and this match would have long back been either one's but that was not to be! The zeal with which they were fighting for the cup, it was obvious that the cup had long back ceased to be only a cup and had instead become a symbol of pride!

When Nadal had his first championship point, I didn't take it seriously because it was off Federer's serve in the 4th set tiebreaker. The second championship point, I begged for him to do it but I somehow thought that the chance was a thin one. The third championship point in the 5th set (I don't remember exactly when) I somehow couldn't summon enough faith in Nadal but something whispered inside me during the fourth championship point. It said, "This is the right time, this is the only time." I told Nadal that if he didn't do it that time, he would never do it. I thought he was destined to win with the kind of opportunities he had created for himself and managed to be a little in the driver's seat almost throughout the match. I was literally on my knees, begging Nadal to do it, to make it happen for himself, (I decided otherwise and went and sat on the sofa so as to not make him nervous with my expectant stance) and I tell you I must have been in a trance during those few seconds. Finally, he did it and I cried more than probably he did, I hopped around putting a Kangaroo to shame, my heart skipped a few beats and a few seconds later, I could not recollect how Nadal had done it. I say I was in a trance because I remember each and every point from the match except for the last one. There was so much emotion brewing that the facts just didn't register!

So now you know how I spent my day and half the night yesterday. In fact, during the second rain halt, with doubts being raised by everyone of suspension until Monday, I considered going to bed since I had office today but I said what if they manage to play it out and how can I even think about missing that special moment of a Nadal victory, of watching him roll on the ground in disbelief, his victory speech and his tears. I am glad I changed my mind because otherwise I would have missed out on the best tennis match ever!

So that's it for now folks. And I am sure after reading this crazy long mail about something as "trivial" as a tennis match, you are hoping I go into hibernation once again. We will see about that.

MY REACTIONS TO INSENSITIVE FOOLS

The following is my reaction to a chain mail that I received some time back. Marked in red is the mail I received. Below the red script, are my reactions to the received mail.

If a Danish journalist depicts the Prophet of the Muslims , Muslims all over the world rise in anger, there is violence, a booty on the head of the Journalist - Muslims are not criticised for being communal and intolerant, If MF Hussain draws paintings depciting Hindu Gods and Goddesses in sexual positions (which relations are not borne out by ancient texts at all ) and Hindus merely protest , they are called communal, intolerant and taught lessons in secularism by one and all. The problem apparently is not with Sikhs and Muslims, it is with Hindus , because we are not violent, we accept what ever is dished out to us , we do not have the guts to say that this is wrong , we seek acceptance from outsiders rather than from our conscience. We worship the same GOds and Godesses but dont stand up for them when the time comes.


I completely and wholeheartedly disagree with you (Kavita) and I would never so much as think of forwarding that message to anyone.

First of all, the interpretations of the painting seem to be coming from a person who obviously takes pride in instilling the sentiments of hatred, communalism, violence and intolerance among the gullible population. In the package prepared for us, two kinds of pictures are put next to each other. A painting is appreciated or understood for what it is and what it itself depicts. If an artist means to exhibit a collection of paintings, she does so because she sees a link between all of her paintings; it could be a theme, a common technique etc. But when a self-proclaimed connoisseur puts together a collection of paintings painted by someone else, she usually does so to project her thoughts into the open with the aid of this collage/collection. These thoughts could be interesting, they could be dull; they could be revolutionary or they could be dogmatic; they could be original and eye-opening or they could simply be manipulative and deceitful. In this case I believe, dogmatism is the leading force and manipulation is the intent. She has put paintings of naked Hindus on one side and the clothed Muslims/Hussain's relatives on the other. This contrast aims at creating a sensation among the population that is marred by conservative Indian sensibilities. Sensitive Hindus are forced to read this information as a projection of bad, impure, primitive Hindus v/s. good, pure, elite Muslims. Has there been an extensive research done on Hussain's paintings before the composing of this mail? Have the Hindus always been pictured naked in all of Hussain's paintings? Have the Muslims always been pictured fully clothed? And even if they have, has anyone bothered to understand the meaning of nudity/fully attired in the eyes of Hussain himself? Have his intentions been tested before the sending out of this inflammatory email that can easily result into a communal discord? The remarks under one of the pictures suggests that Hussain said that Hitler has been projected as naked because he deserved it and now he says nudity is purity. Has anyone bothered to find out the time gap between those two statements? If he has changed his mind about nudity, it is not necessarily hypocrisy, it could be development or changing of an opinion about a concept which happens to all of us because we constantly grow, learn, see and explore and thus we evolve. If circumstances change, if more knowledge comes to hand, if indeed your mind is open, an opinion can change in a day.

Another remark that sits beneath the same picture suggests that Gandhi is decapitated and Hitler is naked. I am not a painter, neither a painting aficionado nor a painting epicure but I can still see possibilities of various other interpretations, angles and ways of reading into it. It may simply mean that Hitler has beheaded Gandhi and thus the ideas of non-violence and tolerance. May be, Hussain wants to project Gandhi not as a figure, but rather as an idea of everything that Gandhi was and Gandhi taught. May be it's a painter's poetic license or an aesthetic device to show Gandhi without his head because Gandhi's attire and his 'lathi' (cane) are symbols of Gandhi and his ideologies.

Finally, may be I am wrong and you are right, may be Hussain is a hypocrite and Hindu-hater, may be he IS communalist. Even then, if what you are saying is right about how the Hindu community reacted to the controversial paintings; that they decided to keep their views to themselves and that they did not call a 'fatwa' against Hussain, hats off to Hindus. I am truly proud of them. Hinduism, as I have understood since childhood has always been about giving the fellow citizen a freedom of speech and expression, it is about tolerance and it is about acceptance. Throttling an individual to death for what she believes in or what she says or what she writes has never been a Hindu ideology as I have understood it. A Hindu can be a Hindu even if he doesn't practice it; to the extent that even an atheist can be a Hindu. If Muslims and Sikhs go over the top about trivial matters and Hindus tolerate and accept another person's opinion, it is not cowardice as you put it, it is exemplary behaviour; it is the lamp that will hopefully light the world.

Ruchi