From paratha to prata

Posted by vivianeee under Lifestyle, Reflections, Traditions
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Muthu sat cross-legged on the wooden deck of the ship, his face streaked with salt-spray from the tossing waves. He could smell freedom and adventure in the air. A strong wiry boy who grew up in India - Punjab to be exact, if he recalled correctly, Muthu couldn’t bear the thought of raising a family in India. Not when he had heard waves of stories of bustling Singapore, the country of endless opportunities.

He was lucky. He found employment as a kitchen helper in a restaurant. His job required him to prepare the morning’s dough to bake bread, wash and cut the vegetables, peel potatoes and other small tasks. Muthu earned two cents everyday, which was barely enough to survive, let alone send money back home.

Homesickness hit Muthu before he knew it. He craved the flattened pancake of dough his mother prepared for breakfast, and he missed watching his father’s attempts to master the art of teh-tarik. Left alone in the kitchen one evening, Muthu wandered around, his mind lost in memories of his family and the familiar aromatic whiffs of breakfast, while his hand trailed along the counter, subconsciously picking out flour, eggs, a basin of water and some fat leftover from the day’s dinner.

Learn the word, son. “Paratha. Your breakfast essential.” His mother’s deft hands pounded the dough, slapped it on the counter, flicked it one..two…ten times. “Splatter of oil, just a dab.” She continued the motion, her hands seemingly tireless. “Here you go - this is the right size. Fold it, toss it onto the pan.”

Muthu snapped back to reality, realising his hands had mimicked the familiar movements his mother had guided him for the past few years. A ball of smooth dough now lay before him. Hesitantly, Muthu kneaded the dough, his hands having a life of their own. Each flick gave him more confidence, and each pound on the counter brought about a deep satisfaction of honouring his family recipe.

…

The craze has caught on. Word spread beyond the Indian community of the delicious flat bread Muthu conjured up in the kitchen. It appeared on the restaurant menu as a breakfast special, but Muthu’s thick accent did not make it easy for his employer. Listening to Muthu utter “paratha” again and again convinced the man that this dough-making genius meant “prata” (since it meant “flat” in Malay).

…

As Singapore spread its cosmopolitan wings, her people got bolder with food. Raj, recalling how Grandpa Muthu narrated his tale of bringing paratha from Punjabi to Singapore, absently cracked an egg while folding his prata atop the pan. It held. It tasted better. Raj had an idea. He hauled out onion bits that his sister chopped earlier, more eggs, minced meat, a slice of cheese. And he mixed, and he matched.

…

One kosong, one egg, please.
One tissue! Two plaster!

One roti-bom!

Jargon, they thought. Just a bunch of Malay terms that those Chinese like to holler. New visitors to Raj’s prata stall stared incredulously as plates of prata variations left the kitchen - some with eggs beaten in them, some with the egg yolk visible. Some with honey drizzled on them, and one odd one stuck out like a cone, or a party hat.

…

Today, roti prata had evolved from paratha brought in by Indian immigrants, said to be of Punjabi origin. Malay stalls selling prata may also claim their piece of history - alternatively, the roti prata was also believed to be introduced by Muslim conquerors who also specialised in making different types of bread.

Roti means bread in the Hindi and Urdu tongues, while prata was a Malay term for “flat”. The combined term roti prata illustrates “flat bread”, made from basic ingredients - flour, oil, water, eggs. Traditionally eaten with hands, the prata can be dense and chewy, or light and crisp. All pratas come with a plate of curry - chicken, vegetable, mutton, fish - although some prefer mixing in a little sugar and condensed milk with their kosongs (plain prata) at times.

And of course, with adventurous taste buds and the popularity of fusion food these days, one often finds other variations like durian prata, ice-cream prata and what not. I’m happy enough sitting down to a kosong and a plaster, thank you.

Rating: +3