Relish with Dishes

Tawa, Bamya, Dolma, etc. What are these? If you know your way around multi-cuisines, you might recognize them as some Iraqi dishes—just like we Bhutanese have Ama Dhatse, Kewa Dhatse, Shakam, and the glorious army of cheesy, spicy goodness.

They have their own typical ways of preparing food. The rice is fried first, then mixed with lots of oil and just a little water—so steamed food is a rare guest at the table. The curry, on the other hand, drowns in tomatoes. Lots and lots of tomatoes in Tawa and friends, much like we Bhutanese drown everything in chilies. A hike in tomato prices won't stop them, just like we can't stop at one chili. The tomatoes are chopped into the tiniest pieces imaginable, joined by cucumber, carrot, and other poor vegetables that didn’t see it coming. The curry tastes sweet-salty—but surprisingly, delectable. The only catch? The whole cooking process takes nearly four hours. Yes, four. You could watch two Bollywood movies and still wait for lunch.

“The key to everything is patience. You get the chicken by hatching the egg, not by smashing it up.” My friend Hashim (bless his patient soul) keeps repeating this quote from Arnold Glasgow, the American humorist. True. Though I’ve secretly wanted to smash an egg or two when hungry.

I told Hashim about our Bhutanese food. I even made him taste a chili—just one. His stomach went on a rampage for the entire night. He damned me to be reborn as a chili. That’s another story. Sometimes I call him Tawa, and I suppose that makes me an Ama Dhatse kind of guy.

I’ve fine-tuned myself to his cooking. What I like to call “use to”. One big reason: I have very little work when he cooks. Most of the time, I just help peel a few vegetables and wash them. The rest? He does everything. My job is to reach the dining table, eat whatever has been prepared, and carry the plate to the sink. But honestly, he does most of that too. I suspect he enjoys feeling superior.

I eat and eat—but slowly. I learned this technique back in my boarding school days: eat slowly! Let others charge ahead like starving wolves. I would wait patiently while they finished, aiming for that glorious second serving. And many times, it worked. When the mess in charge announced a second round, my technique paid off like a fixed deposit. Now I use the same strategy with Hashim. “Take it, take it,” he says, shoving more food my way. Lol.

This technique has now become a habit. Even at parties or gatherings, I’m always the last one to reach the food. Slow but steady—and lots and lots of it. But as an adult, I feel this might not be a good thing. Last and more, sometimes last and none. In school, even if there was none left, our mess would prepare something special—butter, fried food, etc. Good that we waited.

So here’s my question to you: did anyone else have a technique like mine? To be last in eating… and first in eating? Or am I just a slow, hungry paradox?