Some things ring true, some seem plain silly. One commenter on a blog post stated that the blogger's Indian husband's habit of tasting food from the blogger's plate was either "controlling" or "opposite of our upbringing where were are taught never to 'snatch' from someone else's plate". Sheesh, western lady married to a desi man - after all this time with your man, did he not explain to you about food and closeness, whose "jhootha" you could eat, and whose you couldn't? Or were you just looking combatively for discipline issues when a simple cultural explanation would suffice?
Anyway, the one issue that struck a chord was the food one. You don't realize how much of your culture is what you put into your mouth on a daily basis, in fact three or four times a day. And how awful it is when you can't get what you took for granted in the kitchens and the fridges and the marketplaces of your native land. Uniformly, these western women turned desi bahus longed for the comfort of olive oil, cheeses, breads, and random junk food of their childhoods. Some who lived in bigger Indian metros could find what they needed, if not exactly at the same price. Others in smaller towns were just plain out of luck and had to bide their time till they went back to their native lands.
I feel for them. I really do. Having gone through the same thing in reverse, I understand the almost-physical longing for familiar aromas and textures and tastes. But I don't understand the criticism of Indian food as either "unhealthy" or not appetizing nor I do comprehend the dismissing of the morning bustle of Indian housewives as they prepare breakfast and lunch as a waste of energy. And the insistence of simpler western schedules and food preparation as the only way to live. Sure, Indian women are stressed. But isn't every woman on the planet? It's not as if the adoption of a "western" way of housekeeping or cooking has led to a miraculous cure for the stresses of women living in the west. You only have to look in the waiting halls of psychiatrists and counselors to see that the un-stressed women of the west who are supposedly living, breathing role models for the women of the developing world are a miniscule minority. The way to de-stress the overstretched Indian woman is not to tell her to start eating sandwiches or to stop cooking. [Hint: reduce her drudgery levels in the kitchen by *helping* rather than doing away with the cooking itself. It's a labor problem, folks, folded into a gender issue, an old, old story]
Here's why the attack on Indian cooking strikes me as a particularly unproductive criticism. First, cooking is an act of creation. A perfect way to de-stress oneself. Everyone should be taught to cook, boy or girl or grumpy old Gramps. Second, do away with Indian cooking or reduce it, as some western wives of Indian men suggest? Firangi bahus, are you for real?! Having observed both Indians and westerners in the kitchen, I can say that it's not without reason that Indian cuisine is considered one of the master cuisines of the world. Even the humblest everyday exponent of Indian cooking brings to the task a level of complexity that is really not seen in most American or Anglo-American kitchens. The simplest dals taste different with different seasonings, the smashing of ginger and garlic in a humble mortar adds a depth of flavor that can't be matched by the sturdy roasts and simple soups of the average British or English kitchen. And the most Haute Cuisine of frozen dinners doesn't cut it, sorry. When I lived in France years ago, I fell in love with the food but was sad to realize that good food is about expertise, about trained chefs, rather than a complex art that can be practiced by anybody with access to a stove and an oven. The closest thing I've seen in western culture that approximates the Indian relationship with food is the care that Mediterranean peoples lavish on their cuisines. No wonder, Italian food is also one of the master cuisines of the world.
My Indian culinary heritage is mine - handed down to me by word of mouth, scraps of yellowing, handwritten recipes, sometimes a fusion of European and Indian, but something to be recreated every day if I so wish. So why would this creative act be wrong? It is in fact a civilizational heritage to be cherished and kept alive as long as possible, with tweaks and helps from technology as and when required. Yes, the maintenance of this cuisine means that I must give up certain things. So, I regretfully decline the offers to come out and cavort in bars and restaurants every week. Going out is something I do perhaps once or twice a month. For the rest, I enjoy the chopping, the sauteing, the creation of something tasty and good for me and my family. If this is slavery, well, hand me the apron, baby.
And by the way, my family does help with cooking and cleaning.
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