I have found a new friend in Ratanlal (R). He is a sweet fellow – endearing, charming and mild-mannered. We speak different languages, yet we get along swimmingly. As I write, R, half asleep, is probably dreaming of the dinner which now churns happily in his tummy. R loves chicken! So do I. So do I.

Apart from our professed love for the rooster, we seem to share a few common traits such as, thinking with our eyes half closed; fondness for (literally) 'weird' music and intense bouts of deep, deep musing about who-knows-what! As much as a connoisseur of good food, R is quite a dandy – he never steps out of the house without grooming himself for hours on end. Just for that half-n-hour stroll in the neighborhood! And he hardly has a bad hair day! Take that.

So, coming back to our love for the rooster…

R hates (over)processed food. He loves his steaks rare. Very. Ditto with the fish. He has the most refined of sensibilities – a combination of the French and the Japanese you may say, when it comes to taste. I, for my part, have far less delicate taste buds but that, very obviously, has nothing to do with our camaraderie. So while R had his rare chicken for dinner, I ('over')cooked mine. It wasn't by some mischance but by certain deliberation. R remained unmoved by the aroma wafting from the kitchen as I cooked my Chicken Bharta. As long as his rare steak wasn't at stake, he was happy to ignore the universe. He couldn't care less for the Chicken Bharta. I was cooking the dish with no set recipe on my mind. Only from a memory and a very vague one for the matter.

As a kid, I loved restaurant hopping. And my parents happily indulged me when I went home for the holidays. Both my brother and I had prodigious appetites when it came to the food we loved. For some reason, we always ended up with the then-extremely-popular-dish-at-most-suburbian-restaurants 'Chicken Bharta'. In the pre-boneless era, the dish was an instant hit with those who considered meat-on-the-bones a pitiable aberration. My brother – more catholic in his tastes than me – hardly ever seemed to mind. No wonder, I had always kept the alarmingly bony Hilsa – the Bong gastronome's indisputable darling – at arm's length. Although certain restaurants do seem to offer a boneless (even baked!) variety, I am happy to live a more or less Hilsa-free life. Boneless Hilsa like decaf coffee is hardly even half the thing! But more on that later.

Polaroid Days!

It was the Punjabi dhabas that made the Chicken Bharta – a dish comprising shredded chicken in a rich, creamy, golden-yellow gravy topped with crumbled hard-boiled eggs – conspicuous on the restaurant menu (at least, in Bengal) and the beloved of the prudent, hard-to-please Bengali middle class. Cooked with modest ingredients, it's the ultimate example of 'Cucina Povera' (here's my earlier post on 'Cucina Povera'). Got leftover chicken in the fridge? Shred the stuff, discard the bones (oh, yes!) and cook up your own in-house freestyle Chicken Bharta.

Cooking the dish (and then eating it) always brings pleasant memories in its wake. Like an old aroma you can't quite describe, yet are so familiar with. Last winter, while trimming my tomato plants, I was suddenly overcome by a curious yearning. But for what, I had the vaguest idea. And, it turned out (after some thought) that the raw, somewhat pungent fragrance of the crushed tomato leaves brought back old memories from the childhood garden – the dark soil, the loose earth, my father's hands planting, nursing, watering his beloved saplings…

I was both sad as well as happy when my Chicken Bharta turned out to be not quite like the thing on my mind. It was not the same luscious gravy served on a goodly stainless-steel salver. But so much the better. Like you cannot go to the same place twice over, you can hardly recreate the same savor without risking variance. And so it was.

My friend is fast asleep now. He covers his face with a forearm signaling his dislike for my odd working hours. 'What-the-rooster!' he mumbles in his sleep.

Or so I fancy

My friend R (he is known by other names, too!) enjoying his afternoon siesta.

Here's the recipe for my Chicken Bharta. It's certainly not 'kosher' meaning it is unlikely to please the purists. But like R, I seem to care less and less

For two people you'll need the following:

1. Boneless Chicken (boiled and shredded): 250 gms

2. Finely sliced red onions: 1 large cup

3. Diced tomatoes: Half a cup

4. Freshly ground ginger: Half tsp

5. Freshly ground garlic: 1 tsp

6. Red chili powder: 3 tsp (or as much as you like)

7. Turmeric powder: A third of a teaspoon

8. Coriander powder: 1 tsp

9. Tandoori masala: 2 tsp

10. Hard-boiled eggs: 2 (whites separated from the yolks)

11. Salt & Sugar to taste

12. Kasoori methi: 1tbsp

13. Butter: 1 tbsp

14. Vegetable oil to cook

15. Fresh coriander leaves (for garnishing)

16. Fresh cream (optional): 1 tbsp

Heat oil in a heavy-bottomed cast iron  (preferably) wok until smoking hot. Fry the onions till golden and aromatic. Put in the tomatoes. Cook over a high flame stirring continuously. Add the turmeric & chilli powder followed by the coriander powder, tandoori masala and the ginger paste. Stir in the garlic paste. Continue cooking over a high flame for a minute or so and add the shredded chicken. Mix well, adding a cup of lukewarm water. Put in the crushed egg yolks and blend thoroughly. Add salt and sugar to taste. Bring the gravy to a boil and add the kasoori methi. Lower the flame and cook (covered) for 5-7 minutes. Stir in the chopped coriander leaves, butter and fresh cream mixing everything with a very light hand. Top with crumbled egg whites. Serve hot with naan or kulcha.