On our wanderings today we discover a second clock tower and realise that this is the hart of the local bazaar and not the one we came upon the other day having taken our directions from Lonely Planet. Here the treets are thick with people and handcart wallahs hied to tranport goods around the town. The shops are clustered together according to their wares; bazaars for goldsmiths and silversmiths, perfume and saree material, kitchenware and steel trunks of all shapes and sizes and so on.
We stop at a tiny perfumery which is just about big enough for the two of us and the shop keeper and sit down to test a whole range of oil-based scents. Mr Asgar Ali smothers us with pachoili, jasmine, amber, roe, cobra, sunflower, musk until all the smells meld together and we emerge smelling like a perfume counter. But not before buying two small bottles of scent; one musk and the other sandalwood for a mere 160 rupees and learning the Indian trick of putting a small piece of cotton wool soaked in perfume between the cartilage of the ear. It prolongs the scent and disguises its source.
This afternoon we are signed up for a three-hour cookery course in a village house on the outskirts of town. The transport turns out to be three up on a motorbike which is definitely a no go as far as I’m concerned. So we insist on a auto rickshaw and it’s just as well we did, because it turns out to be a long ride over some pretty rough roads. Our teacher, Veejay Singh is the brother of the rickshaw driver (why aren’t we surprised) as well as of the man who runs the shop where we booked the course and bought some clothes. We have already picked the dishes we are going to learn to prepare and which will be our dinner today: chapati, plain paratha, stuffed paratha, masala chai, Indian-style coffee; pakora, vegetable kofta, mutter paneer, dum aloo and halvi for desert. The lesson takes place on the floor of Veejay’s hall, sitting on mats in front of a two-ring gas stove. All the cooking and preparation is done with minimum of equipment using two wok-style bowls and a curry spoon, a teaspoon, a small, circular chapati board and roller, a measuring cup and a bucket of water and most important a spice box containing the seven essential spices used to create all Indian dishes: anis, chilli, cumin seed, coriander, salt, tumeric and garam masala.
Veejay has a cut 17-month old daughter who is shy and curious by turns, wanting to be close to her father, but inevitably getting in the way. Mother has to be called to keep the child out of mischief and grandma is on hand to scold gently as necessary. But what is striking about this household is the quiet calmness that pervades it; unhurried and peaceful.
Veejay demonstrates while we watch, take notes and eat the delicious food he prepares, making it look much eaiser than I suspect I’m going to find it when I come to try to replicate the recipes in my own kitchen.
As we waited