“Ensure you don’t eat fish,” sounds my better-half on a cool mid-February Thursday night as I step out for tasting food at Marjan, the sushi restaurant at Grand Hyatt. My constant companion Rajan is ready with his camera to shoot and taste everything under the sun and sea. Though many of my fish-loving colleagues are more than eager to join the sushi trip, the weekend acts as a dampener because they want to spend time with their respective families and not to be seen pampering themselves alone at five-star niche restaurant. However, fish-loving Trisch Varela – a blue-blooded Goan from India – waits for me at the hotel lobby to embark on the gastronomic journey. Thank God, here’s someone who will eat fish and convey his feelings to me so that I can give shape to his verbal outpourings.
Genieve a.k.a. Jenny, in her mossy green overall, greets us at the entrance to Marjan and hastily assuages me with a “not to worry. We will take care of you” message. I could not fathom what she has in mind. “We have been informed about your vegetarian fetish. Our sushi chef has some surprises for you,” she adds thus relieving me from any further suspense.
Without any loss of time, sushi chef Yudi, from Indonesia, takes charge of us. Leading us by hand into his kitchen kingdom, he gives a brief history of sushi and the important ingredients: sticky Japanese or Californian rice, seaweed base converted into a thin paper roll, raw but cleaned fish, crab meat, diced cucumber, carrot, tomato, mayonnaise, square bamboo mat for rolling sushi etc. He rolls an urumaki which is nothing but sushi rolled with rice on the inside and sea weed outside. That is, sea weed acts like the outer cover holding the rice, crab, fish or whatever inside. Once it is tightly rolled by the bamboo mat, the green sturdy stump is taken out and cut into small spherical pieces for easy bite. When the process is reversed with sticky rice as cover and sea weed inside holding crab, fish or vegetables with mayonnaise, it is called udamaki. Trisch is all ears and keeps bombarding questions to whet his appetite for knowledge!
If Yudi is to be believed, women are not permitted to prepare sushi. Know why? “Because their blood is warmer and that would impact the preparation”, pat comes the reply. Remember sushi means everything raw! Even a bit of warmth would alter the constitution of the Japanese delicacy. Thus goes the argument. What a way to monopolize sushi chef profession as an exclusive men zone? Anyways, who is worried about scoring brownie points. Varela is waiting to bite into yummy food.
No sooner are we seated in a cosy corner but closer to the base kitchen, Trisch and Rajan are advised to go for Nigri sushi – two pieces of sushi placed on a ball of rice. Rajan tries to read the sushi menu but gives up midway because he could not resist attacking the food on his plate. What they feast upon is maguro nigri sushi – that is, tuna wrapped around sticky rice.
Yudi walks in with a plate and places it in front of me. My suspicious eyes scan for anything remotely linked to fish, crab etc. Honestly speaking, if Yudi decides to hoodwink me by serving fish and crab but swears it is vegetarian only, I would have believed him cent per cent. Everything is innovatively dressed up – rather decorated. Except the rice, everything else is in raw form. So no cooking at all, one can say. So, how to compensate for all non-cooking drama? Go for dressing, perhaps. My vegan sushi plate consists of cucumber-stuffed urumaki, cashew-stuffed urumaki, carrot and tomato-stuffed udamaki and a special rice-covered cashew ball tucked inside a bulb-like formation. Eye candy! Hungry or no hungry, all of us attack with a vengeance.
What about desserts? “Try thombura,” advises Yudi. An eager Trisch rushes to the base kitchen to get a close look at what’s cooking. Yes, thombura desert is nothing but bread wrapped around vanilla ice cream which is frozen for two nights and then deep fried. When taken out, it is served with wild berry sauce. We compete with each other to finish off our portions. Marjan is packed to full capacity and Yuri and his crew are busy dishing out whatever is ordered. Before we take leave, we literally pull the sushi crew – and of course, Genieve – out of the kitchen for a group photo. Like trained stars, they flash a quick smile, pose and once Rajan completes his job, they rush back to work. Trisch excuses himself from joining our journey back home. I had a sneaking suspicion that Trisch is still not satisfied and wants a second helping of whatever is still left on our plates. As the cab moves out of Hyatt portico, I keep looking back for any sign of Trisch in vain and try constructing tales to brief my fish-scary better-half.
Genieve a.k.a. Jenny, in her mossy green overall, greets us at the entrance to Marjan and hastily assuages me with a “not to worry. We will take care of you” message. I could not fathom what she has in mind. “We have been informed about your vegetarian fetish. Our sushi chef has some surprises for you,” she adds thus relieving me from any further suspense.
Without any loss of time, sushi chef Yudi, from Indonesia, takes charge of us. Leading us by hand into his kitchen kingdom, he gives a brief history of sushi and the important ingredients: sticky Japanese or Californian rice, seaweed base converted into a thin paper roll, raw but cleaned fish, crab meat, diced cucumber, carrot, tomato, mayonnaise, square bamboo mat for rolling sushi etc. He rolls an urumaki which is nothing but sushi rolled with rice on the inside and sea weed outside. That is, sea weed acts like the outer cover holding the rice, crab, fish or whatever inside. Once it is tightly rolled by the bamboo mat, the green sturdy stump is taken out and cut into small spherical pieces for easy bite. When the process is reversed with sticky rice as cover and sea weed inside holding crab, fish or vegetables with mayonnaise, it is called udamaki. Trisch is all ears and keeps bombarding questions to whet his appetite for knowledge!
If Yudi is to be believed, women are not permitted to prepare sushi. Know why? “Because their blood is warmer and that would impact the preparation”, pat comes the reply. Remember sushi means everything raw! Even a bit of warmth would alter the constitution of the Japanese delicacy. Thus goes the argument. What a way to monopolize sushi chef profession as an exclusive men zone? Anyways, who is worried about scoring brownie points. Varela is waiting to bite into yummy food.
No sooner are we seated in a cosy corner but closer to the base kitchen, Trisch and Rajan are advised to go for Nigri sushi – two pieces of sushi placed on a ball of rice. Rajan tries to read the sushi menu but gives up midway because he could not resist attacking the food on his plate. What they feast upon is maguro nigri sushi – that is, tuna wrapped around sticky rice.
Yudi walks in with a plate and places it in front of me. My suspicious eyes scan for anything remotely linked to fish, crab etc. Honestly speaking, if Yudi decides to hoodwink me by serving fish and crab but swears it is vegetarian only, I would have believed him cent per cent. Everything is innovatively dressed up – rather decorated. Except the rice, everything else is in raw form. So no cooking at all, one can say. So, how to compensate for all non-cooking drama? Go for dressing, perhaps. My vegan sushi plate consists of cucumber-stuffed urumaki, cashew-stuffed urumaki, carrot and tomato-stuffed udamaki and a special rice-covered cashew ball tucked inside a bulb-like formation. Eye candy! Hungry or no hungry, all of us attack with a vengeance.
What about desserts? “Try thombura,” advises Yudi. An eager Trisch rushes to the base kitchen to get a close look at what’s cooking. Yes, thombura desert is nothing but bread wrapped around vanilla ice cream which is frozen for two nights and then deep fried. When taken out, it is served with wild berry sauce. We compete with each other to finish off our portions. Marjan is packed to full capacity and Yuri and his crew are busy dishing out whatever is ordered. Before we take leave, we literally pull the sushi crew – and of course, Genieve – out of the kitchen for a group photo. Like trained stars, they flash a quick smile, pose and once Rajan completes his job, they rush back to work. Trisch excuses himself from joining our journey back home. I had a sneaking suspicion that Trisch is still not satisfied and wants a second helping of whatever is still left on our plates. As the cab moves out of Hyatt portico, I keep looking back for any sign of Trisch in vain and try constructing tales to brief my fish-scary better-half.
This article appeared in MIRROR, 4 March edition
No comments:
Post a Comment