This is not a food blog. This is not a fan mail. This is just my personal note to Joseph Pradip Rozario for being the intensely benevolent *Food God* in the lives of one Anjita & two, Saakya for the past year...and making our tastebuds and our simple lives come alive, cometh every odd evening and filling them with recipes and surprises hand delivered by soft spoken team members, of what can best be summed up as World class handmade platters of godsent delight. NuffSaid.
O, What a MasterChef you are!!!
There are many ways in which people touch your lives. People you are born to, people you build relationships on contract with, people you work or study with ... give birth to.
And then there is JP Rozario. Truth be told, we have barely ever met. Once perhaps, our lives may have intersected briefly, at a fascinating edition of Good France, where he possibly shook hands with me in formal greeting. A fleeting memory of a chance encounter. I wish it had been more, he is afterall my son's Godfather. And Santa Claus. And Gordon Ramsey. We are still working on this one.
You see, Chef chose to *Foodopt* me and my son a year ago.
This culinary master made the unique exception of extending the delicacies of KK's Fusion to my home, come rain or thunder, we ate...off multitude of platters, of gourmet food made with love and such attention to detail, across exquisite recipes that lingered on our palettes long after they had been devoured shamelessly by mother & son alike.
The KK's Grill, Oven and heart has forever been lit for my humble evenings, and then there are those exceptional cakes and bakes and crumbles & pies that came each time I felt life had so little to offer. Ya right! I quit saying that a fairly long time back, when the Chocolate walnut cake arrived.
& No, I didn't share that one. 😀
Very few people in this universe reach out to strangers the way this soul has. He writes, he reads, he chats, he works, he endures, he offers and he smiles...and he inspires me to write. O and he Cooks. And Today, as he sets sail far west, I talk about his devilry with World Degustation!
So, here goes.
One evening I arrive from work to see in front of me eyes, in my humble *Salvation army hand me down* home, a parcel lying harmlessly on the glass table...these are sealed pre plated edifices of happiness, covered with aluminium foil.
x
Hiding within, a world of beauty, these plates are simple elegant whites
right under. Held within these folds were piping hot, freshly braided,
hand rolled, hommade, richly spiced and cleverly mixed, craft Pork
sausages.The platter came with instructions of course. That's how discreet chef is. 🙂
*Kindly get some Indian Dal made with white Rice and Salad. Break Sausage with hands and mix into rice to best enjoy the Indianness of this delicacy. Add lime to mix*
Whoa, what?!! Rice, Dal?
Seriously... it was an et Voila moment for me!
I have never been more stumped nor stupefied by such a precise idea of what Pork sausages must be done with. And we did as we were told, Children of Gastronomy, we!
And what a delight. What an absolutely, insanely flamboyant mix of masala and meat this man had pulled together on my plate.
The richness of the Pork held the rice and
dal together while the caramelised onions and spices which made the
sausage whole, made this rice dish, turn into a Near- Columbian
discovery. It was almost as if a Paati Bheyto Baangali had married a guitar strumming hot Anglo Indian (pardon my stereotyping here) on a plate and they lived happily ever after.
But the story never ends there with Chef. Never ever ever ever.
See now, there is the Son, and his tastebuds must not be trifled with according to Joseph.
*Ergo.
Enter the world's coolest looking, deliciously aromatic, ready to gobble, honey glazed, home delivered, platter of Pork chops with saute'ed veggies and crusty breads.
The boy nearly lost a jawline that day, oggling with the entire length of his 12YO grin he greeted this creation. With some effort, he struggled up, shed a cough and fever, being a tad under the weather, from his upturned bed to shout out in joy, plunging merrily, fork and all, into the carved artistic world of Pigs and pleasantries.
I add here of course...the meat was falling off the bones, the juices spilling onto his chin and the vegetables, alas were being tossed by me into his mouth, because (and i pause here for effect), he is a pre teenager...!
What mad genius
created such food? This was heaven and the Pig (bless his gut, snout and
soul) died for a noble cause indeed. The Tabasco and honey laced the
animal fat in exact precision and the tenderness of the meat, rendered
delicatedly, was not too thick, the grease stuck like melted chocolate
to the sides of the sticky and tender ribs. Let's just call it divine,
ya? I must however, bring to your attention a small but significant matter of the potatoes. The Potato is something no one ever gives much importance too, but here the mash that outlined this neatly laid series of chops made the child in me sit up and note the disarming comfort of rosemary and butter cream come through...so British the taste, that you make noises not very appropriate for a blog, when you do commence on destroying this work of art with your knife.
I could go on about all those evenings, when Chef Joseph Pradip Rozario has brought my family, my friends and my soul into order. Given us peace. Told me ever so calmly, to just let it be, you just eat, then spend time with your son... don't get worried about anything in life. Life will sort itself out. Bless you.
And I haven't. I simply sit now, smiling to myself, plate in hand, counting my blessings, as I watch my son, chugging along spoon in hand, through his moment of pure sin and feel an immense sense gratitude for a man, I hardly ever met.
Thank you Chef. Bon Voyage & Bon Courage, to heartier shores and newer adventures with your spatula and spices. I end here today, but your *food therapy* and love sealed in KK packets and hot boxes will remain, with me & Saakya forever.
Warmly, always.
Anjita
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