When Julie & Julia go Maharashtrian

The lives of celebrated chef Julia Child, who authored Mastering the Art of French Cooking in 1961, and New York blogger Julie Powel were intertwined with great success in the much acclaimed film Julie & Julia. The same connect that linked two very different generations and eras is now playing out in a new avatar in Reading, UK – but with a Maharashtrian tadka.

Instead of Julie and Julia, we have Reading resident Preeti Deo and late Kamalabai Ogale, the Maharashtrian homemaker who cooked up a culinary storm with her iconic cookbook Ruchira. Deo, who teaches Indian arts and crafts to adults at a local learning centre, is writing on Ruchira in her blog Ruchira Videshini. All 652 recipes from the book – which has sold 4.5 lakh copies since it was first published in 1970 and continues to be included in bridal takeaways from many a maternal home - will be tried out by Deo.

The 49-year-old began nearly a year ago and is determined to complete the process over the next three. "To think of it, I'd barely cooked before we came to live here in Reading. My mom spoilt me and my in-laws' had enough help to take care of everything. On the odd day that they didn't turn up, we had a variety of places to go eat out in Pune," she recounts.

Deo's inspiration
All of that changed in Reading. "There was no help and my husband, my son, who was only three then, and I missed Mahahashtrian food. That was what began my initial not-so-successful forays into the kitchen," she laughs as she remembers how Ogale's book helped her. "Her motherly conversational style, the use of bowls and spoons as measures and detailed tips on what to do if something went wrong, made Ruchira my constant companion in those days. Like lakhs of others who'd benefited from her wisdom, it was almost as if Kamalabai was reaching across time and space through her book, to hold my hand, reassure and guide me."

Positive reactions from her family and friends encouraged Deo to try more and more new recipes from the book, even adventurously replacing some impossible-to-get ingredients in UK with easy-to-get local stuff. "Since Ruchira made cooking more passion than chore, I saw myself using it as therapy to deal with difficult days or even when I felt under the weather. Just stepping into the kitchen and grappling with new recipes began relaxing me," says the food blogger who enjoys an international following, especially from the Indian diaspora across the world.

Readers' connect
Deo hopes to "rise to standards set by Kamalabai" and seems to be getting there already - she's bombarded with queries by many readers, even from India, on replacing ingredients or techniques. "I know I have the benefit of technology with kitchen appliances like the OTG, microwave, the hand-blender and what-have-you. Also, with the world becoming a smaller place, it is possible to get ingredients from places one has never even heard of. As I revisit Ruchira recipes, I'm trying to adaptively re-use Kamalabai's basic grid. In the process if I can reach out and touch people's lives just like she did, that'd be the best reward. It'd also underline once again what she says in the first prefacing sentence - 'Samadhanache janma swaypakgharat hote (True satisfaction is born in a kitchen)' - in her 'Gita' of cooking."

"I want to ensure that in an era when the book as we know and understand is fast vanishing, I'm able to carry Kamalabai's legacy forward," she adds.

Nearly 7,400 km across the globe, in Pune, Kamalabai's 50-year-old grandson Prasanna Ogale and his octogenarian mother Anuradha echo Deo's sentiment. "For someone who barely studied till Class IV, it's overwhelming to see the love for her," says Anuradha who helped her mother-in-law pen recipes down in early 1968. "I'd sometimes find it a bother in the beginning because it'd take me away from my siestas. But her gentle goading and her drive at 55 soon had me hooked."

How Ruchira came to life
The book, which began as notes for members of the family, would have remained only that if it weren't for the efforts of Krishnaji Ogale, Kamalabai's late husband. He rewrote everything from scratch correcting grammar and narrative style. "He'd sit up till late working on the book which became as much a passion for him as it was for my mother-in-law," laughs Anuradha.

When the publishers were first approached, it seems hard to believe that questions were raised on whether this book - which has sold 50,000 plus copies n each of its English, Kannada and Hindi versions too – would take off. "Mukundrao Kirloskar said that we would have to pay his publishing house Rs.10,000 if the book didn't sell. My grandfather agreed but it luckily didn't ever come to that," remembers Prasanna. "The first 10,000 copies sold out no sooner had they announced a discount of Rs.3 on the Rs 15 book for the pre-print order, and they had to go in for a reprint." Fifty reprints later, it's still flying off the racks.

Somewhere a ladle-bearing, matriarch in a nine-yard-sari must be smiling...