Come Republic Day, and I find myself sniffing the air. All kinds of happy and warm images pop up when I think of this special day. The day is not just about sight and sound — think pageants and parades — but also about flavours. January 26, in particular, brings to mind oranges and coffee. For, there was a time when the day meant a picnic — and a picnic meant fresh and juicy oranges and cups of hot coffee. Until some years ago, a special day such as this in winter meant an al fresco meal with kith and kin in one of Delhi’s vast parks, or at a dear friend’s farmhouse. The pandemic and pollution suspended the practice, but I did attend a picnic some days ago in a green expanse and found myself surrounded by friends and food. I had idlis, sandwiches, chhole bhature, puri sabzi, kebabs, and a slice of a delicious cake — and had to, with great difficulty, stop myself from going back for seconds.
The best part about a picnic is that there are no rules about food, and no one turns their noses up at mixed cuisine. So, picnic meals can have all kinds of goodies — from soft rice or rava idlis to bedmi aloo to a Bengali puri dish called radhaballabhi (puri stuffed with a lentil paste, and served with chana dal or potatoes), poha, vada pav, kebabs and cutlets. A friend’s chow mein is always a great hit at these picnics, as are, if I may say so, my frankfurter hot dogs.
I remember reading a book about picnics, and was quite enthralled by the origins of the word. Eating in the open air has been a practice since time immemorial, but it was in 1694 that the French called a special indoor meal a ‘pique-nique’. After a century or so, the idea caught on in England, and the spelling changed, along with the concept. It was no longer an indoor meal, but an open-air feast.
Picnics are a beautiful example of communal eating. People bring to the table — or the ‘durrie’, I should say — anything they like, or enjoy preparing. Cold cuts are always welcome — some nice slices of moist ham, pistachio-studded salamis, pepperoni, luncheon meat, and so on. Sausages kept warm in a casserole are usually a hit, as are different kinds of cheeses — from cheddar and brie to Camembert and Gouda. And one can’t ever have enough of galouti and shami kebabs.
I am sure someone somewhere would like to open a jar of Beluga caviar, and eat some smeared on a piece of crusty bread with blue cheese on the side, but I would rather have stuffed paranthas and mixed gobhi-shalgam pickle. Or a boiled egg.
I guess our picnic menus have been inspired by the books we read as kids. After all these years, I still drool at the thought of cracking the shell of a hard-boiled egg and munching on it, as Enid Blyton’s characters routinely did in their outings.
Some picnics are simple one-dish affairs — but the food is to die for. Friends of mine sometimes take all the ingredients for mutton biryani and then cook it in the open, on a stove or a log fire. Others love to prepare khichdi in a large pot, and then serve it hot to all the picnickers. It tastes like heaven.
An enduring symbol of a picnic is the hamper. Tucked away in little corners of the big basket are tiffin carriers and plastic containers with different kinds of food. There will be some fruit, oranges usually, in one corner. It will hold a thermos of coffee, a bottle of water, paper plates and plastic cutlery. And there will be a nice rug for you to sit on, with a cushion to lean on, as you bite into an egg sandwich. If this is not bliss, tell me what is!
Hot dogs
Ingredients
Hot dog buns 2
Frankfurters 2
Iceberg lettuce leaves 2
Tomato ketchup
Mustard sauce
A dab of butter
Coleslaw 2 tbsp
(Make coleslaw by taking
1 tbsp each of shredded cabbage and carrot, mix with mayonnaise, a bit of vinegar, sugar and pepper)
Method
Prepare the coleslaw, and keep it aside for an hour or so. Heat the buns, slice them vertically, and smear the two sides with butter. Fry the frankfurter. Place one on a slice of bun, and put 1 tbsp of coleslaw on its two sides. Squeeze some tomato ketchup and mustard on top of the Frankfurter, top it with a lettuce leaf, and close it with the other slice of bun. Pierce a toothpick over the bun slices to hold them together. Serve warm or cold.