Master Chef: Round two

Kavitha Mandana narrates the story of how Chikka used a simple recipe to rid himself of the 'bad cook' title

Something bright and colourful was pinned on the noticeboard beside the main staircase of Manoj Mansion. So, though the members of the Royal Mansioners Cricket Club (Royal MCC) were exhausted, ravenously hungry and smelt dreadful after a game of cricket in wet, squishy mud, they stopped to check what was up.

Chikka immediately regretted it. Had he not been right in front, with his friends crowding around him to read the new notice, he’d have slunk away unnoticed.

“Annual Cooking Competition! The Hunt is on for Manoj Mansion’s Master Chef!”

That was Vandana, the Royal MCC’s fast bowler, reading the poster. But she’d barely finished before Arun thumped Chikka on his back, and hooted “Boss, what will it be this year, da? More biscuits to break your teeth on? Or…”

“Cake with salt instead of sugar?” Rima asked, poking her big brother Chikka in the ribs.

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Chikka slapped his forehead, playing along. He had no choice. Last year, he’d entered the contest with great fanfare — attempting one of his mother’s complicated cookie recipes. And though his cookies had been perfect while practising during the week before the event, on the actual day, something went horribly wrong.

And his ‘crumbly cookies’ turned out rock solid. None of his friends ever let him forget that.

Chikka initially swore never to cook or bake again. But that resolve barely lasted a few weeks, and soon he was tossing together yummy salads — mixing up avocado, with green gram sprouts, puliyogare powder and croutons. Or Amma’s other favourite, stir-frying shredded chicken rescued from yesterday’s curry, along with spring onions, grated carrots and scrambled eggs, before adding this to another leftover, white rice.

As the competition drew closer, Chikka found he was itching to compete again. Not to be declared the Mansion’s Master Chef, or win that fancy-looking blender — which the winner would receive — but he simply couldn’t resist being where all the cooking action was taking place.

This time, he went about things quietly. None of his friends knew — nor did the aunties on the Resident’s Association Committee because he decided he’d register for the competition on the very last day.

Behind the scenes, when his sister Rima wasn’t around, he searched the kitchen cupboards for inspiration.

Judging from how much Amma’s yoga friends enjoyed his avocado salad, he was tempted to make that. He was particularly proud that it wasn’t from a recipe book but a ‘Chikka Original’, as his mother sometimes referred to it, with pride.

But he realised that with avocado, the salad needed to be eaten immediately. Leave scooped avocado out for even half an hour, and it begins to turn black. By the time the judges arrived at his food stall, it would look horrid.

After going through a bunch of his recipes, he made a decision that helped him relax. He reminded himself he was taking part because he loved cooking.

He decided to make his cricket buddies’ favourite dish — the simple, easy-to-make, non-prize-winning potato chaat.

With that decided, Chikka relaxed. On competition day, when members of the Royal MCC spotted their teammate at his counter, they planned to tease him non-stop. But once they reached his counter and discovered he’d made potato chaat, they were ecstatic.

Contestants couldn’t open their counters to sell their food till the judges had tasted it, so the Royal MCC team grew desperate. Since Chikka had registered for the contest at the last minute, his food counter was at the end of the line — to be judged last!

Eventually, after what felt like ages, Chikka’s potato chaat was tasted by the judges and appreciated by everyone. In fact, Ruby Aunty, the legendary cook of Manoj Mansion, served herself to two helpings!

The moment that was done, sales began. For the first five minutes, it was mostly the cricket team wolfing down what they usually ate for free at Chikka’s home. But soon, others arrived, savoured Chikka’s chaat and spread a word of appreciation. By noon, Chikka’s stock was over!

Of course, a recipe as simple as ‘mix cut up boiled potato with thick curd, along with black salt, chilli powder, a teeny bit of sugar, and sev’ was not going to win first prize. But it did earn Chikka some extra pocket money and erased all memories of that ‘biscuit that would break your teeth’.