Sushi?” asks my mother, eyebrows arched. “Raw fish?” My daughter is not bringing the smelly world of animal-eaters into a vegetarian home, her eyes warn. This, of course, is where wiki-research comes in. So I say, “Chill Maa.” Sushi: Japanese dish made of vinegar-spiked rice usually combined with other ingredients (uncooked or cooked and not necessarily fish). The eyes relent and I am off to Enoki, the Japanese restaurant at The Grand, to be an itamae san (chef) for a day. I was bracing myself for the chaos of a steamy kitchen, huge grills, hot plates and refrigerators and a dozen junior chefs bustling around. To my surprise, this is a neat open kitchen, with a huge chimney that funnels off the smoke. Senior chef and Enoki’s assistant director Pankaj Ambardar shows me around his workplace with pride. Now, time to work. First, you’ve got to get into the skin of an itamae san. So I put on a chef coat, a black apron and a Japanese cap. Do I look like a clown? “You look like a professional chef,” says Pankaj. At the cooking table, the ingredients are laid out. We are making a yasai maki, a vegetarian sushi roll—in deference to my mother (and mine, let’s confess) squeamishness. “Sushi is basically vinegared rice. It evolved as a ready-to-eat food which would last long without any artificial preservative. A traditional version called izushi, with the filling of raw fish, can last up to a week in Japan. But in India, it must be eaten within 24 hours,” says Pankaj as he shows me how. The trick, as I see, is a light touch. I start off by spreading the nori sheet, a thin edible paper made of seaweed, on a cane mat. Next, I spread a layer of steamed rice on the sheet. A coating of eggless mayonnaise, shredded vegetables, a few slices of pickled radish and the filling was done. Now comes the trickiest part — rolling it. How tough can it be? Very. All the ingredients are sticky and slip out of my hands. The rice is spilling from the edges of the nori sheet and the vegetables stray as well. Roll the mat and the paper sheet together, says Pankaj. “Roll a quarter and pull it back.” The tighter you pull, the finer the roll. Partha’s camera, meanwhile, is clicking my predicament merrily. I take a deep breath and continue. This time, I manage to bind the stuff together. Yasai maki, a little too plump and untidy, is done. Pankaj hands me a lean, mean knife, about a foot-long and asks me to slice the role. I struggle a bit but finally, six slices of sushi are ready. I serve it on a rectangular glass tray with wasabi, a pungent root paste and slices of pickled ginger. “Not bad”, says Pankaj. I am smiling. Pankaj then guides me to the hot plate. By now, I am smug with confidence. Were they looking for an assistant chef? Next on the menu is mix vegetable tofu. If you’ve fried potatoes scores of time for your hurried meal, this really is easy. Just toss a couple of vegetables, enoki mushrooms and fried tofu on a hot plate in garlic, vinegar and butter. Over in no time and we were all set for the feast. I held the two platters proudly and serve it to Pankaj and another guest. “Douzou Go-yukkuri O-meshiagari kudasai,” I say. Translated: “Please take time and enjoy the food.” I anxiously watch them eat. “Good job,” says Pankaj between mouthfuls.And you thought journalists could only cook up stories.
