This week’s confession is truly astounding, even for someone like me, who has committed so many kitchen atrocities over time that I am sure I will end up in Kitchen Hell, when it’s all said and done.
All kidding aside, this was truly a remarkable faux pas. I’m the sort of person that likes to be the smartest kid in the class and, if it’s obvious that I am not the smartest, I like to the one that says the most clever things. Earlier this week I confused Masala with Marsala.
For those of you who might be scratching your heads, wondering what the difference is between the two, I’ll tell you. The difference is “R”. (See what I mean about trying to make up for a lack of intellect by attempting to be clever?)
Masala is a mixture of many spices. It’s a term used by people from India and Pakistan, among other places. It is not just one particular spice mix. The mix can contain any number of spices. Masala is the flavor foundation for many dishes.
Marsala is a sweet, fortified Italian dessert wine, often used for cooking.
An innocent mistake, for sure. And, if that was where my story ended, I could have laughed it off and gone on with my life with nobody being the wiser.
Several months ago, while visiting my favorite Indian spice market, I struck up a conversation with the proprietor, as I usually do. He is always willing to stop and talk with me and he has been a tremendous guide, while I attempt to unravel Indian cuisine. On this occasion, I told him that I was considering making a masala pizza, at least that is what he probably heard. I actually said Marsala, because I was thinking about making a chicken Marsala pizza. That was the moment I ran off the rails.
You see, I have made chicken Marsala before and I have made many dishes with masala, although I’ve never really thought about calling the spice mixture, masala. I must have had a bizarre synaptic short-circuit which caused me to switch masala with Marsala. The proprietor, being the gentleman that he is, just stared at me when I suggested the masala pizza. He gave me a sort of quizzical, pitiful look.
Well, months later, here I am ready to make the pizza. I wanted to try a test run with the chicken Marsala, before moving on to the pizza. I went back to the Indian market to pick up some items for other dishes and when I saw the proprietor, I told him that I was really going to make the masala pizza, but I what I actually said was, “Marsala”. I told him that I was deliberating on how to approach the pizza. I didn’t want to use traditional Italian marinara and mozzarella because I didn’t think they would pair well with the Marsala sauce. I asked him if he had a suggestion for a creamy sauce that I could make, instead of using Mozzarella. After a moment, he suggested coconut milk and followed that with suggesting tapioca starch to thicken the coconut milk.
Coconut milk? I’ve taken some interesting turns while creating new food but coconut milk didn’t seem like a very good idea for pizza but, I told him that I would give it a try.
As I left the store and headed to the wine store, to pick up some Marsala wine, it suddenly dawned on me that I had been utterly confused. You see, the proprietor of the spice market speaks perfectly. Despite the tell-tale Indian accent, his diction and vocabulary is precise and clear. He speaks better English than most people I encounter, on any given day.
“Masala”, was what he was saying, and he made sure to say masala each time after I said “Marsala” to him. The nerve cells in my brain finally made the jump. I had been enlightened! I also suffered from incredible embarrassment.
As I drove to the wine store I convinced myself that the only way to redeem myself was to perform an act of penance. I would make two pizzas. One would be inspired by masala and the other would be inspired by Marsala.
One final interesting event rounded out the day and convinced me that fate is a very real thing. I was checking out some other blogs and I came across this blog, https://ishitasood.com/ . It’s tagline reads, “The Biggest and Only Indian Blog on Italy”. Ishita is the author and she has produced some very interesting posts. One post in particular struck a chord with me… https://ishitasood.com/confessions-of-a-passionate-blogger/
In the blog she offers some words of encouragement, including the following: “It is okay to be vulnerable.”
And that was exactly what I needed to hear. It is what I needed to remember. I am an imperfect human and so is everybody else.
I will work on these recipes with an open heart and an open mind.