The plump line-caught Bay of Bengal prawns that rest on my kitchen counter this morning pose infinite possibilities.
Not ideal, for sure, I nod in disapproval, for a busy mid-week morning.
Especially when that backlog list is already threatening to be ominous.
But its not every morning that I am blessed with such gorgeous beauties. I console myself.
I decide to indulge.
And before i have even blinked, I am sucked into a maelstrom of conflicting choices.
That, despite my best endeavors and many cups of Darjeeling in the hope that they shall clear my clouded faculties, I struggle to pull myself out of.
Do I do myself a sinful Portugese-influenced chingri malai curry ?
Or is it a day to pair these lovely prawns with the humble posto, spiked with wicked chillies ?
Or a sublime daab chingri with its delicate subtle flavors ?
May be an Anglo-Indian jalfrezi ?
As ever, Grandma comes to the rescue. To save me from the dilemma.
I settle on yet another favorite from her scratchpad of recipes.
Shorshe Narkel Chingri. Succulent Bay prawns. The soothing sublime sweetness of grated coconut. The piquant zing of mustard. The fire of fiendish chillies. A generous glug of mustard oil for yet more zing.
Quintessentially Bengali. In which yin meets yang. A perfect balance of opposites. A delicate yogic equilibrium.