The taste of the street food is now at home: A short story from an afternoon

How are you all… I hope everyone is doing well.

Actually, I didn't start writing properly today. Sometimes it happens, a small incident keeps coming to mind, then I think – well, why not write it down! I am sharing something like that.

It was yesterday afternoon. Suddenly I felt like eating fuchka. This desire is nothing new, it happens sometimes. Some call it panipuri, some call it golgappa – I always call it fuchka. I don't think much about the name, I just eat it when I feel like eating it.

At first, I thought of bringing it from outside. But then it occurred to me – outside food can no longer be eaten as safely as before. There is always a thought at work, how clean it is, how it is prepared… Thinking about all these, I didn't go out anymore.

Then suddenly I thought, why don't I make it myself!

When I went to the kitchen, I saw that there wasn't much, but there were potatoes and eggs. I put them to boil. At that time, I was standing there thinking – let's see how it turns out in the end! I didn't have any intention of making anything perfect, just trying my own way.

When the potatoes were boiled, I mashed them slowly. I didn't make them too smooth, I didn't mind if they were a little grainy. Then I added chopped onion, green chilies and a little ginger. Actually, I never add spices exactly, I add as much as I think is right.

The smell that was coming out after mixing everything made me think – this is it, it's done!

Then I made that sour water. Soaked tamarind and extracted its juice. Then a little salt, a little spices… and suddenly I thought, how would it be if I added lemon leaves! I had never added them before, but I tried them that day.

There was a strange fresh smell coming out, it didn't feel bad at all. I cooled them a little with ice.

Finally, when I sat down with the puris in front of me, I couldn't wait any longer. I filled a puri with potato mixture, then dipped it in water and put it in my mouth…

To be honest, at that moment I felt like this small thing was a great joy.

Later, when we all sat down to eat together, I realized where the real fun was. It wasn't a big event, but it still tasted good. Maybe because it was made by hand.

Sometimes I feel like no matter how much I eat outside, there is a different kind of peace in food that I make myself.

Have you ever made fuchka at home? Can you tell me how it tasted?