It is time we paid tribute to all those women and men who spent and will continue to spend hours and hours in the kitchen on a regular basis so that the rest of the family gets not only fed, but with style and taste.
I compare them with some women in the west who will spend the minimum time at the kitchen tables driving off their spouses and children to the nearest MacDonalds, KFCs and Burger Kings to make them obese. Of course our cooking is said to give us BP, cholesterol and ultimately heart attacks. But has anybody counted the cancers we have been saved from due to the spices, the nuts and the herbs that are part of the Goan ingredients. So here we need to raise our glasses of wine or something stronger to all those: Mothers and grandmothers who have laboured in smoky kitchens, wearing out their hands and patience. To all those working people mostly women who after a hard day’s work rush off to rustle and cook for their waiting families. To all those women and men who carry with them the cooking traditions and tastes of Goans whether it be in Bhusaval, Bhopal, London or Lafayette. To all those Goans who will gladly share their table with others whether it be in their house or with dishes sent to families celebrating or mourning. To those servants ( a crude word is it not), who have gladly for small amounts of money cooked for us with such love and devotion if a little appreciation was shown. To all those Goan children who showed love for their parents through the interest they show in such cooking themselves and giving to their future children the bounty they were themselves given. We are not ungrateful. Roland.
