Shan to the Rescue

Today was day two at work. I rushed home to do step four of five of my grand plan to clean the house in preparation of Mom’s visit on Thursday. After completing this, I contemplated what I could make for day three at work in which there is going to be a farewell party potluck. Exhausted, I had no interest in cooking anything. Dun, dun dunnahhhh…Shan to the rescue! I quickly whipped up some Chanay/Cholay with Chat Masala, thanks to my superhero friend, Shan.

This brought back memories of one of those competitive super-woman moments. On several occasions I would marvel at my hubby’s cousin’s cooking. Knowing that she, too, was a very busy professional, I marveled how she must be in the kitchen at un-Godly hours preparing her biryani, kofta, haleem, etc. All I knew was that my MIL made everything from scratch and the food tasted marvelous, but the process was no joke. The hostess/cook would just nod and smile and take my compliments without ever answering my question of how she was able to accomplish such a feat. For this, I was very jealous.

Then one evening, another guest questioned the hostess as to whether or not she was using Shan? The conversation then switched to Urdu. All smiles and laughter, all I heard was “Gi…Han……Shan…..Shan…Shan” and a lot of words I didn’t understand.

“Who is Shan”, I thought to myself? It sounded like the Irish name of “Shawn”. Was there an Irishman making her food? Was Shan a restaurant on Devon Street? Is Shan a Desi Aunty catering her food?

Ever so curious, I couldn’t help, but be impolite. On the drive home I turned to my hubby and asked him if he knew of this “Shan” person. He rolled with laughter at my exasperation. “Hon, it’s the Desi cheat sheet or cliff notes of cooking. C’mon I’ll take you to the store and get you some.”

Hallelujah, I love my buddy, Shan! But, hide him before your MIL comes!