Azeez Chinese Restaurant (Love over Chinese Cuisine) - Part 1
Siddharth had developed a taste for authentic Chinese cuisine after he had spent around two years in China on an onsite assignment. Consequentially, he used to frequent the various Chinese food outlets in the city every Fridays - a new restaurant every week.
The “Chinese” food that is usually served across India is not authentic chinese..but an “Indianised” version of it. Though most of the style of cooking like high fires, use of ajino-moto and the various Chinese sauces were adhered to, more of the traditional Indian spices were used as well. Siddharth found that he liked this desi version better. But of late he had started getting tired of the monotonous taste and was yearning for some authentic Chinese food…just for old times sake. He had exhausted all other options for a restaurant when he chanced to see the “Azeez Chinese Restaurant” , travelling on his bike near the city suburbs. He had not heard much about the place. The name itself had sounded rather unappealing. He asked the office online bulletin board for reviews of the outlet. Most of the people who responded dismissed the food as being “terrible” or “too Chinese”. Siddharth was encouraged by this last bit of feedback and decided to give the restaurant a try.
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“I’ll have a schezwan ginger garlic noodles and…do you have any suggestions for the side dish?”, Siddharth asked the smiling elderly man who was waiting on him.
“Sure. I’d suggest a chicken in the Manchurian style. Schezwan is pretty hot and spicy…the sweetness of Manchurian would go well with it.”, replied the waiter.
“Great then…I’ll have it. And I’d also like a Pepsi along with that please.”, Siddharth said, handing the menu back to the waiter.
“I’m afraid I can’t allow that”, replied the waiter.
“Why not?”
“It’s not good for you. Cold beverages are believed to be harmful to digestion of hot food. I don’t serve ice cold water or cool drinks with my food. You may have warm water if you please.”
Siddharth was taken aback but he wasn’t offended. There was a certain quality in the waiter’s tone that was both polite and firm at the same time. And he was always smiling…a gentle, endearing smile. He noticed the extensive use of the singular on the part of the waiter but he let it go.
“That’s a new bit of information. Ok then…cancel the Pepsi”, said Siddharth.
“Thank you”, replied the waiter and he made his way into the kitchen.
Siddharth watched him disappear into the kitchen. The interiors weren’t pretentious but they were comfortable. It was bright and cheery. A number of Chinese paintings adorned the walls. The traditional Chinese paper lanterns were also hung for decoration. There were only two other patrons apart from Siddharth and both of them were having their meals in silence. The elderly man was the only waiter. Apart from that, there were nobody else in the restaurant.
A quarter of an hour later, the waiter brought the order. He served the noodles expertly onto Siddharths plate and poured the side dish liberally on the side. Siddharth gave him a smile and thanked him. The waiter withdrew and Siddharth took a first bite of the food before him. It was delicious. This was authentic Chinese cooking…not the desi version of it. “No wonder people said the food was atrocious”, thought Siddharth. But he was at ease. This was the food that he had grown to love…the taste he thought he had forgotten, but now was gleefully welcoming back like an old friend. It took him a major part of an hour to finish eating. He relished each and every morsel. Finally he pushed his plate aside and looked up. The waiter was watching him.
“You seem to have liked that very much”, said the waiter.
“To put it as simply as that would be a tremendous achievement of understatement. It was incredible”, replied Siddharth, smiling broadly at the waiter. “The cook could have used more number of schezwan chilies, though. I could find only one petal of it. The flavour hadn’t reached some places. Nevertheless it was good”, continued Siddharth.
“You seem to know your Chinese cuisine well, young man! It’s surprising that you could actually recognize a Schezwan chilly petal”, said the waiter as he slipped into the chair opposite to Siddharth.
“Oh…I’m not a gourmet. I spent around two years in China. Onsite assignment, you know. Most of my colleagues hated Chinese food…but somehow, I loved it. I had settled for the Indian Chinese all this time I’ve been back but was getting fed up of it. Today was a blast to the past. Could I meet the chef so that I could thank him?”, asked Siddharth.
“You already have, young man”, replied the waiter, extending his hand for Siddharth to shake. “Allow me to introduce myself. Azeez Mohammed…I am the head chef!!”
“Oh…”, replied Siddharth, taken aback.” My name is Siddharth Nandan. Nice to have met you Mr.Azeez. Wait a minute!!! “Azeez Chinese Restaurant”?? You’re the owner as well?? “
“Yes I am”, replied Azeez, laughing at the surprised look on Siddharths face. “Do you find it hard to believe that the owner of a restaurant can cook as well as wait on tables?”
“Hmmm…yes. It’s not common, you know. But if you think about it, I see there’s no reason why you can’t do it all by yourself…but it still is odd”
“Yes it is. But just look around, Siddharth. Do you see my restaurant thronging with people? Hiring other people to do work which is easily within my capability to perform is rather wasteful, don’t you think?”
“Hmm…I guess you’re right, Mr Azeez.”
“Please!!! You can call me Azeez”
“Naah…I won’t. You’re old enough to be my father. I think I’ll call you Azeezji. Hope you don’t mind”
Azeez smiled.
“Tell me, Azeezji, if you don’t mind me asking…why do you serve authentic Chinese food? Most Indians like the desi version. I asked around about this place before I came here and everybody said that the food was horrible. I see that your place doesn’t have much customers…then why? It hits the business hard,right?”
“Well, Siddharth I respect the Chinese way of cooking. I hate what they’ve done to the food in the name of “Indianising” it. I used to be a chef at a respectable restaurant in Shanghai. Chinese cooking is what I was meant to do…is what I do best and everything that I have become in life is because of it. To alter it to suit the whims of the majority would be blasphemy. It would be sacrilege against the great people who invented this form of cooking!!! Making money is important…but not at the cost of corrupting ones vocation, my young friend.”
“I didn’t mean to offend you.”
“And you haven’t”, replied Azeez with a huge smile. “ No one has asked me that question before and trust me it’s something I’ve asked myself a lot. Besides…getting occasional customers like you…who are actually interested in Chinese food…and being able to serve them and win their praise…that’s a reward in itself. I keep the restaurant open so that people who need me know where they can find me!!!”
“You’re an amazing man, Azeezji. I’ve begun to like you”, said Siddharth.
“I can say the same thing about you also.”
“You think I’m amazing?”
“Amazing would be a strong word. What I meant was that you are certainly different. You’re unbelievably frank…most people are not. You’re frank and I can see it in your eyes that you actually mean it!!! And you find it easy to go against the general opinion. The world has become too pretentious these days and this quality has gone for a toss. I guess you’re refreshing. That’s why I like you.”
“Thanks Azeezji. As they said in “Casablanca”, I think this is the beginning of a beautiful friendship.”
Both of them laughed aloud.
*************************************************************************************
TO BE CONTINUED...
The “Chinese” food that is usually served across India is not authentic chinese..but an “Indianised” version of it. Though most of the style of cooking like high fires, use of ajino-moto and the various Chinese sauces were adhered to, more of the traditional Indian spices were used as well. Siddharth found that he liked this desi version better. But of late he had started getting tired of the monotonous taste and was yearning for some authentic Chinese food…just for old times sake. He had exhausted all other options for a restaurant when he chanced to see the “Azeez Chinese Restaurant” , travelling on his bike near the city suburbs. He had not heard much about the place. The name itself had sounded rather unappealing. He asked the office online bulletin board for reviews of the outlet. Most of the people who responded dismissed the food as being “terrible” or “too Chinese”. Siddharth was encouraged by this last bit of feedback and decided to give the restaurant a try.
*************************************************************************************
“I’ll have a schezwan ginger garlic noodles and…do you have any suggestions for the side dish?”, Siddharth asked the smiling elderly man who was waiting on him.
“Sure. I’d suggest a chicken in the Manchurian style. Schezwan is pretty hot and spicy…the sweetness of Manchurian would go well with it.”, replied the waiter.
“Great then…I’ll have it. And I’d also like a Pepsi along with that please.”, Siddharth said, handing the menu back to the waiter.
“I’m afraid I can’t allow that”, replied the waiter.
“Why not?”
“It’s not good for you. Cold beverages are believed to be harmful to digestion of hot food. I don’t serve ice cold water or cool drinks with my food. You may have warm water if you please.”
Siddharth was taken aback but he wasn’t offended. There was a certain quality in the waiter’s tone that was both polite and firm at the same time. And he was always smiling…a gentle, endearing smile. He noticed the extensive use of the singular on the part of the waiter but he let it go.
“That’s a new bit of information. Ok then…cancel the Pepsi”, said Siddharth.
“Thank you”, replied the waiter and he made his way into the kitchen.
Siddharth watched him disappear into the kitchen. The interiors weren’t pretentious but they were comfortable. It was bright and cheery. A number of Chinese paintings adorned the walls. The traditional Chinese paper lanterns were also hung for decoration. There were only two other patrons apart from Siddharth and both of them were having their meals in silence. The elderly man was the only waiter. Apart from that, there were nobody else in the restaurant.
A quarter of an hour later, the waiter brought the order. He served the noodles expertly onto Siddharths plate and poured the side dish liberally on the side. Siddharth gave him a smile and thanked him. The waiter withdrew and Siddharth took a first bite of the food before him. It was delicious. This was authentic Chinese cooking…not the desi version of it. “No wonder people said the food was atrocious”, thought Siddharth. But he was at ease. This was the food that he had grown to love…the taste he thought he had forgotten, but now was gleefully welcoming back like an old friend. It took him a major part of an hour to finish eating. He relished each and every morsel. Finally he pushed his plate aside and looked up. The waiter was watching him.
“You seem to have liked that very much”, said the waiter.
“To put it as simply as that would be a tremendous achievement of understatement. It was incredible”, replied Siddharth, smiling broadly at the waiter. “The cook could have used more number of schezwan chilies, though. I could find only one petal of it. The flavour hadn’t reached some places. Nevertheless it was good”, continued Siddharth.
“You seem to know your Chinese cuisine well, young man! It’s surprising that you could actually recognize a Schezwan chilly petal”, said the waiter as he slipped into the chair opposite to Siddharth.
“Oh…I’m not a gourmet. I spent around two years in China. Onsite assignment, you know. Most of my colleagues hated Chinese food…but somehow, I loved it. I had settled for the Indian Chinese all this time I’ve been back but was getting fed up of it. Today was a blast to the past. Could I meet the chef so that I could thank him?”, asked Siddharth.
“You already have, young man”, replied the waiter, extending his hand for Siddharth to shake. “Allow me to introduce myself. Azeez Mohammed…I am the head chef!!”
“Oh…”, replied Siddharth, taken aback.” My name is Siddharth Nandan. Nice to have met you Mr.Azeez. Wait a minute!!! “Azeez Chinese Restaurant”?? You’re the owner as well?? “
“Yes I am”, replied Azeez, laughing at the surprised look on Siddharths face. “Do you find it hard to believe that the owner of a restaurant can cook as well as wait on tables?”
“Hmmm…yes. It’s not common, you know. But if you think about it, I see there’s no reason why you can’t do it all by yourself…but it still is odd”
“Yes it is. But just look around, Siddharth. Do you see my restaurant thronging with people? Hiring other people to do work which is easily within my capability to perform is rather wasteful, don’t you think?”
“Hmm…I guess you’re right, Mr Azeez.”
“Please!!! You can call me Azeez”
“Naah…I won’t. You’re old enough to be my father. I think I’ll call you Azeezji. Hope you don’t mind”
Azeez smiled.
“Tell me, Azeezji, if you don’t mind me asking…why do you serve authentic Chinese food? Most Indians like the desi version. I asked around about this place before I came here and everybody said that the food was horrible. I see that your place doesn’t have much customers…then why? It hits the business hard,right?”
“Well, Siddharth I respect the Chinese way of cooking. I hate what they’ve done to the food in the name of “Indianising” it. I used to be a chef at a respectable restaurant in Shanghai. Chinese cooking is what I was meant to do…is what I do best and everything that I have become in life is because of it. To alter it to suit the whims of the majority would be blasphemy. It would be sacrilege against the great people who invented this form of cooking!!! Making money is important…but not at the cost of corrupting ones vocation, my young friend.”
“I didn’t mean to offend you.”
“And you haven’t”, replied Azeez with a huge smile. “ No one has asked me that question before and trust me it’s something I’ve asked myself a lot. Besides…getting occasional customers like you…who are actually interested in Chinese food…and being able to serve them and win their praise…that’s a reward in itself. I keep the restaurant open so that people who need me know where they can find me!!!”
“You’re an amazing man, Azeezji. I’ve begun to like you”, said Siddharth.
“I can say the same thing about you also.”
“You think I’m amazing?”
“Amazing would be a strong word. What I meant was that you are certainly different. You’re unbelievably frank…most people are not. You’re frank and I can see it in your eyes that you actually mean it!!! And you find it easy to go against the general opinion. The world has become too pretentious these days and this quality has gone for a toss. I guess you’re refreshing. That’s why I like you.”
“Thanks Azeezji. As they said in “Casablanca”, I think this is the beginning of a beautiful friendship.”
Both of them laughed aloud.
*************************************************************************************
TO BE CONTINUED...
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