Middle Path | Chicken Tikka Caesar Salad

Long ago as part of my english curriculum I had a short story called as ‘A boss came to dinner‘. It tackled a delicate topic of parent and their grownup children’s relationship. Back then it was just a chapter in english floating in the sea of syllabus and numerous other subjects. I hardly paraphrased the story from an introspective point of view. How old was I ? err 13 maybe. The time of furtive crushes, fitting bras and thick friends. I never pondered about the conclusive right or wrong climax of the story.

A successful son throwing a party to appease his boss and his wife. A loud noisy party with several shaded guests. While the old mother stayed in the other corner of the same house. She was old and not cared for. But she forgets all her sorrow and readily puts a smile on her face in front of his guests. She also promises to weave a traditional Phulkari for the bosses wife on her son’s insistence. A simple story woven around complexities of human character. A sacrificial Indian mother who will go to any extent to help her uncaring son. The sad sunken eyes and wrinkled hands……

Im in my thirties today and my father is his sixties. Our relationship of respect changed to more of an informal one after the demise of my mother. Its got every colour of the shade card written on it. With time it is evolving more , as I am maturing and he is ripening while the tree is laden with loads of experiences.

Life is hard at times and its puts us to test every now and then. But each time we emerge stronger and enlightened.

Mirrored relationships, I have seen the good and the bad. I have seen some seemingly cordial relationships but with a distance. Another where I don’t care who you are sort of relationship. Upscale thick as pals relationships and murky scrambling for property relationships. Sometimes its the old on the reverse axis while the young on the front gear relationships.

The ideal for me doesn’t exist. You age and so does your temperament and circumstances, just like the tides in the sea. Most importantly the parents relented when you threw a tantrum but its irrevocably diminishing for you to accept an old parents child-like ideology. Your dreams, privacy,adventure are far more swift than their slow wrinkling thoughts.

In the process we forget what we sow is what we reap. We are everyday sowing the seeds of love, care,respect, obedience, disgust, dejection, defiance or progression and what not….into our children and even for those without kids, basically into all our immediate relationships. The emotions today will germinate into our future when we are old and succumbing to our finale. I hate to be advisory rather love being a thought sewer.

“Parents rarely let go of their children, so children let go of them.
They move on. They move away.
The moments that used to define them are covered by
moments of their own accomplishments.

It is not until much later, that
children understand;
their stories and all their accomplishments, sit atop the stories
of their mothers and fathers, stones upon stones,
beneath the water of their lives.” ― Paulo Coelho

My father is just so adaptive and I love cooking for him. For that matter, I cook for everyone I love.

Good food, good mood and good vibes.

He has an Indian palate so I love adding a bit of an Asian twist to all the dishes I serve. Here is the classic Caesar with tiny chicken Tikkas adding the zing to the perfect salad meal. I love serving this to him because its fresh and hearty.