Life etc...

What price convenience food?

First, the disclaimers: I've got a packet of frozen parathas in the fridge, and there's often lots of little miso or stock cubes in the larder (I live alone, mostly). Some mornings, there's Maggi for breakfast (my husband seems to get garlic powder cravings from time to time, and no, we weren't pregnant last time I checked.)

Now the tall claim: Only one of those short-cuts is in there because of its convenience label. The rest... It's a matter of exotic or comfort flavours, when we're both being ruthlessly honest.

Those of you who remember the look on the pizza delivery guy's face (hint: priceless!) when Jamie Oliver beats his clock with made-from-scratch dough for a fresh pie, you know what I'm talking about.

It's also what I'm harping on in today's column, though I've tried not to editorialize or unduly influence outcomes! Very often the cost of convenience is three, even four times, the DIY dish... and the hands-on time is not much different. I'm steered clear of calling the spatula a spatula in the Food Factors column this time, but I'm betting you can see the point without my nudging: Real food is not always slow food, it is often as fast (or even---gasp!---faster) than ‘fast food' or ‘convenience food'; and the only time you save is thinking about your grocery shopping or what do ahead for your next meal (what to soak, cook, marinate, thaw).

In other words, the only convenience you're paying for with many ‘pre-prepped' foods is the freedom from planning. And yeah, sure, there are days when the mindspace, as Gen Y calls it, is hard to come by. Then again, organized living is a tough habit to break.

Some of my close friends and family have this objection, though: In the First World, you can get the real thing readily and even their so-called food deserts are a sight better stocked than some of our local kirana stores. How can Indians possibly do convenience-at-home? Well, the same way we did roti and rice through generations of zero power supply and long days on the farm. By seeing it as a small, almost habitual part of your day.

It takes 10 minutes to knead dough for unleavened bread, while you supervise the children's homework or watch the news on TV, and a ball of dough can hang about the fridge for several days too! It takes 30 minutes, and not counting traffic conditions like high tides, transport strikes or deities on the march, for the pizza guy to ring your bell with the same-old blah.

The other part of it is intelligent buying: if you know what to buy to save yourself time, you can halve your sojourn in the kitchen. Some cuts of meat cook faster than others (keema can take as little as 10-15 minutes). A pressure cooker makes boiling beans a lark, so why bother with tins of baked beans?  And just how long did you wait in the car for your dhaba to grill your tandoori chicken?

Would it have taken longer to get to your meat shop and pop it in the OTG, while you enjoyed your beer in the A/C room with your favourite music or a movie for company, instead of the mozzies?

Well, I’m done preaching to the converted---or the obdurate! You tell me... What’s your time-saving trick for Indian kitchens? And why (or when) is it worth paying for convenience?