Cooking

Anya and I are both huge fans of food. I knew I'd made a friend for life when shortly after we'd both moved into 5 Rue Marengo in Bordeaux, she suggested we try to make caramel sauce. I don't remember the ingredients we used, but I do remember we cooked it in a quiche pan, set on top of the stove. And one of our favorite ways to spend our paltry assistant earnings was to eat at either of Bordeaux's two Indian restaurants. So naturally when she suggested taking a cooking class while in India, I was on board with the idea. Since we were staying the longest in Udaipur, it seemed like a good place to do it.
We booked a cooking class on our last full day in Udaipur. The class was ran by a woman named Shashi. I regret not getting a picture of her, but because her cooking class is so popular, it was not hard to find one online.

Taking the class withus was a Polish couple. They were about my age and both lawyers, or some respectable job back in Poland. I don't remember if they'd quit, taken leaves, just finished exams, or what. But, they'd borrowed one motorcycle, and bought another. They were riding their way all through India and Nepal on their two motorcycles. They'd been/were going everywhere (north, south, east, west). I got scared walking down the sidewalk in India. I'd never felt like such a wuss. 

Shashi started her cooking class by giving us a brief bio. She was widowed at the age of 31, with two young sons (notice the black bindi).  Because she's the highest class, she's not allowed to remarry, and there were also some rules about what jobs she was allowed to do/not do. Her husband's family sucked, and didn't help her out. Didn't help her out is an understatement, they were flat out nasty to her. She lived with her two young sons in her husband's family's house, and for a long while they even turned the electricity or water or some important utility off because she had no money. They did laundry (secretly, because her class is not allowed to do laundry for a living) for local hotels to make money. Her cooking school is now very successful, and written up in a lot of tourist guides for Udaipur. As I've said before, by this point I'd been in India long enough to feel like everyone just was scamming me for money. So part of me wondered if Shashi's tale was truthful. But she seemed nice, and her face looked worn, like someone who'd had a tough go of things for a while. I like to think Shashi was telling us the truth. 

Either way, I loved this cooking class. Shashi had no problem pointing out all our shortcomings in the kitchen-not stirring fast enough, cooking something too long, not kneading dough the right way, etc. At one point, while using a mortar and pestle, a bug came crawling out from somewhere, and into the mortar. I don't know if she didn't see or didn't care, but she crushed that little guy right up into the garam masala. I thought about it some, as we were sitting down to eat. But the food was so delicious, what's a little bug going to hurt? I couldn't not eat it.  I'd been staying away from meat for the most part while in India, so I needed the extra protein, no doubt. We made chai, a few snacks/appetizers, bread, and few different main dishes. There was so much food, the four of us could barely make a dent in it. I spent $10 on a tin of spices. I wasn't super jazzed to have to haul it around for the next week, but it was a super good price, and included stuff that would be a bit difficult to get in Princeton. Plus, she threw in a big container of chai spice, which my mom and I enjoyed several times during last year's winter that would not end. I left Shashi's feeling like I'd just eaten Thanksgiving dinner, in a full on food coma. 

A sign hanging in Shashi's kitchen

 pakora with mango and cilantro chutneys-be jealous

Our feast, and Shashi resting in the background

Spices 

 This guy...One of the best things about our hotel in Udaipur was that the trees surrounding the building were always full of monkeys. We got a bit too close to this fella, and he made it clear he had no interest in being our friend. This picture was taken shortly before he chased us up the sidewalk, while growling.

From the safety of the hotel room, I saw this. Heart melting. 

 Friends helping friends

Fickle as a pickle!

So, haha, I posted my last entry too soon. The school I wanted to work at in Seoul was supposed to contact me by Monday. Monday came and went, and I didn't hear from them. I contacted them. They didn't respond. I wrote that last blog. I contacted the recruiter. He offered me another job. I didn't want it. I spent a week trying to come to terms with being done with Korea. Then last Monday, a week late, the school contacted me and offered me a job. Decision time. My current background check expires December 26th. If December 26th comes and goes without a visa, I will be unable to accept this job. Think Laura, think.