Putting your pet to sleep

If you are a pet lover, this topic is bound to be one that you either avoid talking about or one that you defer until a situation is thrust upon you without any warning. My wife and I recently had to make this decision for our dog and needless to say, it was one of the worst days of our life. Prior to making the decision, I scoured the Internet to find out more about this topic, but was surprised at either the dearth of detail or the articles were mostly an emotional expression of letting go. This post is an attempt to not only express but also a brief overview of what to expect and the options available to you when you have to make this extremely tough decision. For some it might be a bit disturbing. Please proceed with some discretion if you are not ready to hear the details. My aim is to help you prepare for that day and that moment.

We brought Dodger, our 6-week-old Golden Retriever pup to our home and he instantly became part of our family. His penchant for being naughty and cute at the same time had us all bowled over. Golden’s have a great demeanor and are extremely friendly around children. Our kids were instantly in love with this ball of fur.

Even though I had never grown up with pets, I became enamored with Dodger. We survived the potty training and the chewing stage and life went on. Dodger grew from a mere 3 lb. pup to over 100 lbs. Around age 4, Dodger started having hip issues which is common among Golden’s. The vet advised better diet and more exercise. Dodger seemed to manage well over the years with this condition and enjoyed good long walks and fair amount of exercise sans the occasional flare up. Around age eleven or so he started growing lumps around his abdomen. Our vet did a biopsy and declared the lumps non-cancerous and about a year later we made a decision to have them surgically removed. This procedure is described in one of my previous post titled “Surgery for an aging dog”. The decision to put him through surgery in hindsight was the best thing we could have done. It added several more years to his life and made his life more comfortable.

Shortly after Dodger turned 12, he started to slow down significantly. His hip started giving him more trouble and he started having difficulty going on walks and eventually the walks became a rarity. It broke my heart to pieces when I left the house with Dodger and his despondent eyes looking at me with dismay. Walks were, after all the highlight of his day.

As time went by, his ability to get up from a resting position started becoming harder as well. Throughout his entire life, Dodger was a happy dog and had an extremely bright spirit. His zeal for food was one indication that kept us informed that Dodger was well and good. We knew something had to be really serious for him to turn down food, anytime of day or night. 

That day arrived in October of 2015. Dodger was unable to get up on his own and refused to eat. He was about 13 years and 3 months at this point. Worried, we took him to the vet and after a battery of tests and ultrasounds, it was determined that he had developed a tumor in his abdomen and it was pressing on his liver. There was a lot of fluid that had built up in his belly. The vet was raising the dreaded end of life questions. Distraught and completely disappointed, we brought Dodger home. By now, 3 days had passed and Dodger had not eaten or drank much if any at all.  On the night of 9th of October, 2015 we decided that the next day we would put Dodger to sleep. We could not see him suffering and both my wife and I were heartbroken about our decision but were convinced that this was best of our dog.

Next morning, we woke up to find Dodger up and about and staring at our bed as if nothing had ever happened. Perplexed, we followed him to the kitchen and much to our surprise, he starting eating his food, drank water and started moving around the house. Did we just watch a miracle? Indeed, Dodger survived a full 6 months after this episode. We received a gift of the extra time with him that I will never forget for as long as I live.

We all know the lifespan of a dog. I have heard tales of dog’s living 16-18 years. The truth is, 18 years is an outlier and if you are lucky enough to have your dog survive that long, thank your fortune and luck. It doesn’t happen often. Most dogs live 10 to 13 years depending upon its breed. We are told that a dog year is equivalent of 7 human years. If you had a loved one who lived for 98 years, you will no doubt miss them when they are gone but you would celebrate a life lived well. Somehow, when your dog lives the equivalent of 98 (human) years you don’t see it the same way. You still expect them to live the full 98 human years, which we all know is impossible. No one has been able to fight death, no one.

The dreaded day was upon us. There were no more mulligans to be had. No hall passes. No pardons left. The gut wrenching, cardiac infarction moment had arrived. Dodger had stopped eating again and was barely able to move. My wife had improvised a harness with sheets to lift him and take him out to the yard to pee and poop. Dodger lived a dignified life. I could count on my one hand the number of times he had “accidently” soiled inside the house. Even in his worst days, if he was able to get up and walk, he would obediently go stand at the door imploring us to let him out. During these days, I could see it in his eyes that he wanted to eat but he just couldn’t. He was alert though. He would raise his head in the same elegance we had seen him do all his life. Our baby still had plenty of dignity and courage but you just can’t overcome nature. Old age is in store for all of us. We simply choose to avoid thinking about it.

On Saturday April 9^th, 2016 we woke up and neither my wife nor I had the fortitude to call the vet. I just couldn’t bring myself to have that conversation. After mulling around for several hours and petting Dodger, I mustered up the courage to go speak with the Vet in person. With tears rolling down my face, I asked about pet euthanasia. I was given the option of bringing Dodger to the Vet hospital or use the services of a Vet who made house calls. I thanked the Vet at the VCA Mission San Jose Animal Hospital in Fremont, took the business card of the Vet who makes house calls. The Vets at the Fremont hospital were the most amazing folks we had dealt with. Compassionate, caring and honest.

Upon arriving home, I discussed the options and we both agreed that having the Vet come to our house was the best thing we could do for Dodger. He was lying down in his favorite place in the patio and this was his home. He was a homebody and that was where he was most comfortable.

I made the dreaded call and spoke with another amazing Vet. She asked several questions about Dodger and his condition and after being re-assured that nothing was awry, I was given a noon appointment. It was about 9 AM when this conversation ended. The next 3 hours were perhaps the longest of our lives. We called a few friends to come over and say their final goodbye’s to Dodger, texted our kids and informed them of our decision and hoped the clocks would stop and noon would never arrive. Time doesn’t wait for anyone. Not for Kings, President’s, Paupers or Golden Retrievers.

The Vet’s car pulled into our driveway and the mere sighting of them triggered a sinking feeling in my stomach that is impossible to describe. I have been through plenty of adversity in my life and consider myself pretty strong but on that day, you could have knocked me over with a feather. I don’t know what it is about our life but we are extremely fortunate to have met the most amazing and kind folks throughout the tough stages we have encountered and this one was no different. The Vet and her assistant were just incredible. They saw Dodger and in my broken state, I asked them if we were doing the right thing. I was clearly not ready to let my Dodger go. Both of them assured me that we were doing the right thing. My wife who was closest to Dodger was torn to pieces but knew that this was the right thing to do. We could not see our baby suffer anymore. The time had come.

The vet explained the procedure to us. They were going to administer an IV and the first injection was going to relax Dodger and make him fall asleep within seconds and it would be painless. The first shot is a mild sedative. We then got a chance to hold or pet our baby and say our final goodbye’s before a second shot is administered, which essentially is a large dose of a sedative and it eventually (within a minute) makes the heart stop beating. While this shot was administered my wife held Dodger in her arms and I held my wife in a bear hug and then we let our tears flow like a torrential downpour during Monsoons. And just like that, 13 years and 9 months disappeared in our hands. All the memories and the good times were instantly dissolved in the plastic tube that carried the lethal dose. We used the services of Dr. Wessing and her website Heaven From Home provides great detail on what to expect and the services provided. I could not recommend anyone better than Dr. Wessing. Tons of empathy & professionalism. 

We were given the option to cremate Dodger privately and we chose that and yet again we were introduced to the most amazing Pet Crematorium in Northern California. Loved Pets is located in North Monterey County in Royal Oaks. The Vet took Dodger and transported him to the crematorium and we asked to get his ashes back. He was cremated privately and a week later we received his ashes in a scatter box.

The family planted a tree in Dodger’s memory. A Golden Delicious Apple tree, befitting a Golden Retriever. The tree overlooks our bedroom and we will watch it grow as time passes. Dodger will always live in our heart and we will miss him every day and hope to see him on the Rainbow Bridge.

A plaque next to the tree we planted

Eulogy for a friend

If you are one of the lucky ones to have had a blessed and a fortunate life, take a bow, thank the lord or count your blessings. Not everyone of course is blessed with good fortune. Some, struggle mightily and spend their entire life in search of the elusive “happiness”. I have the distinct misfortune of writing two eulogies in less than a month. This year has been a “teacher” in more ways than I could ever imagine. Unfortunately loss is eternal and thus most painful. You can never have someone who leaves this earth, back. Ever. It’s that permanency that tugs at you. You start to question yourself. Could you have done more? Could you have changed the outcome? Perhaps. It’s too late though and nothing that you can do now will bring that person back, ever. There are no do-overs when you lose someone to death. There are learnings though. Great deal of them. 

Shibani and I lost a friend over the weekend. She was murdered in cold blood by her husband a day ago and Shibani and I with two other friends were perhaps the last few people she interacted with before her life was taken away by a deranged man. We attended a concert together at the San Jose Event Center to see Shankar, Ehsan, Loy and said our goodbyes merely an hour before she met her untimely fate.

I met Sonia Nallan about 10 odd years ago. She was our dear friend Rekha’s neighbor in San Jose. As any desi (people of Indian heritage) will tell you, our world is small. Her husband, it turned out worked with me at 2Wire years before I met her. As time went by, we all discovered that Sonia didn’t have an ideal marriage. Like many women, she endured the abuse (please reserve your judgements) and stayed on for the sake of whatever it was important to her. We all tried to persuade her to leave. She didn’t budge. Her 2 sons were her life and her purpose for living and she was indulgent as no other mother could be. 

It would be inappropriate for me to divulge personal details that she shared with us but suffice to say, she lived a life of extreme struggle and yet was giving and had a heart the size of the outdoors. With meager income and constrained finances, she would bring the largest and most exorbitant cheese platters to our house for parties. Never to even flinch when it came to sharing, she personified her largesse by doing the best she could, given her means. I know plenty of people in my circle of friends who have been bestowed with wealth that is perhaps a 100 times in magnitude but unfortunately live a life of a miser. This post isn’t meant to disparage anyone but merely highlight the generosity of Sonia and her character. She was a friend who you could count on anytime of day or night. I truly pity the folks who saw her from a shallow lens. Shibani and I will miss her and I hope she finally finds peace and doesn’t have to struggle anymore. I am still in disbelief and perhaps will come to terms with her demise in due time. This world needs to have more empathy for the people who need love and caring and I will try to start with myself and hope to make a difference. Thank you for being a part of our life and teaching us a valuable lesson Sonia. You will be missed. Here is a photo of her, all smiles at our house with Javed Akthar. I want to remember you with this smile. I truly truly hope you didn’t suffer in your last moments and more than anything else, I hope you are not one of thousands of women who died at the hands of the one person who took a vow to protect you for the rest of your life, in vain. Even if there is one woman out there who can learn from your experience and get out of a toxic relationship, your life would have served a purpose. 

“Maana Ki Is Zindagi Ko Na Gulzar Kar Sake, Kuch Khaar Kam Kar Gaye, Guzre Jidhar Se Ham”

Day 2

So now what? I wait for the predictable stages of grief to kick in. Never knew how accurate a few of them could be. I take a heavy dose of Ambien at night to quiesce my mind that has been racing all day. First in anticipation of the dreaded moment when the nurse arrives to put Dodger to sleep and then just a deluge of memories all day long. The sedative helps fatuously. You can’t be sedated forever. If only it was that easy. There are things to do and hours to endure. I lie in bed and wait to hear the rustle of his feet or the noise his chain made when he tried to scratch his head with his paw. Silence. First stage has taken complete hold of me. I look for the nightstand clock whose face I had turned away, somehow chimerically thinking that time somehow will cease. It hadn’t. The dimly lit numbers show 3:27 AM. Damn these pharmaceutical pigs. I pop one more tablet and the pharmaceutical pig made a quick comeback.

The morning brings more dilemmas. There are no noises to be heard. There is constant chatter of messages via whatsapp or Facebook. Dodger touched many lives. Yesterday, I had fecklessly tried to remove everything that would remind Shibani of Dodger and stowed in our garage. Worried that anything that belonged to Dodger would trigger an emotional outburst. But the whole house belonged to him. His “things” may not be visible but his presence is everywhere. His body may have egressed but his presence is everywhere. I am an avowed atheist, a complete non-believer but I am shamefully taking a line from the Upanishads for my convenience and an attempt to gain some equanimity. We are told “ The adorable one is seated in the heart and rules the breath of life. All the senses pay homage to him. When he breaks out of the body in freedom from flesh, what else remains?” I would like to think what remains are his memories, in our heart, to cherish forever.

It’s weird but my brain starts playing songs at odd times of the day and they have never had any relevance to my day-to-day life. Since yesterday though, this song from 3 Idiots has been playing non-stop and boy the lines are relevant. Here are a few words with English translation.

“Behti Hawa Saa Thaa Voh,

 Udati Patang Saa Thaa Voh,

 Kahan Gaya Usey Dhoondo.

 Humko to Rahen Thi Chalaati,

 Voh Khud Upni Raah Banaata,

 Girata Sambhalta,

 Masti Se Chalta Thaa Voh.

Humko Kal Ki Fikar Sataati,

Voh Bas Aaj Ka Jashn Manata,

Har Lamhe Ko Khulake Jita Thaa Voh”

English Translation

“He was like a flowing wind,

He was like a soaring kite,

Where he had vanished, let's find him.

While the paths always lead us

He always made his own path

Sometimes fell, sometimes balance but always went ahead cheerfully

We were always worried about tomorrow

He always celebrated today

He lived every minute fully”

Good Bye Dodger

Goodbye Dodger

How do you eulogize someone who gave love unconditionally and asked for an occasional bone in return? When Shibani and I married, we were young enough to have our "own" kid but instead we brought home Dodger. The cutest little Golden Retriever Pup, one could ever hold. He was "ours". For a guy who had never had a pet, Dodger taught me how to love one. Don't get me wrong, I had my moments but letting him go today was one the hardest thing I have ever had to do and I hope no one has to make this call, but when your dog is unable to get up and refuses to eat for days it is cruel and selfish to let him endure whatever discomfort or pain he might be feeling.

We almost lost him in October of last year, but he made a miraculous recovery and gave us another 6 months. A gift, I will never forget. As Shibani mourns, I try to find solace in writing and sharing my grief. I walk around the house and look at the things we have collected. There is something to learn from the simplicity of our pet’s lives. All Dodger had, were two beds, a pan from where he ate food, a leash and a water bowl. The lump in my throat might subside in a few days, but the memories he left us with will take a lifetime to fade. I hope to see you wherever we go when we leave this planet. Thank you for enriching my life and the unconditional 14 years of love you gave me Dodger.

My Left Foot

My Left Foot

“Life’s journey is very hard to follow… When you have a broken foot”, proudly proclaimed a small printed note on my office door when I returned to work 3 days after a surgery to repair my broken ankle. It broke because of an ill conceived parking lot puddle jumping attempt. This among myriad of other signs were on the office door to remind me that I was either a klutz or was more prone to accidents than other mere mortals. After all, this was my fourth surgery in about as many years. 

Never in my wildest dreams did I ever expect to slip and fall in ill maintained parking lot, let alone suffer a compound fracture with a broken ligament. An injury severe enough to warrant paramedics to the scene who stabilized my dangling left foot and transported me in an ambulance to the emergency room. What ensued has been the most trying time for me personally in coping with this injury. 

As cliché as it may sound, everything in life teaches you a lesson. This accident has not been without some remarkable awakenings. The biggest one being, “never take being able bodied for granted”. But why does it take an injury for most of us to realize it? Why don’t we take care of ourself and our bodies? The answer may not be an easy one. After all, our abilities are no different than material things that are available to us in abundance. We tend to neglect them or not particularly care about their existence until the day we can’t have them anymore. 

The day you lose your ability to do something that was so basic to your day to day life can be devastating and powerful at the same time. Your attitude primarily determines the outcome of your disability. The second most important thing is your support system. If you are surrounded by supportive and positive people, you are likely to have a better outcome. This isn’t based on some thesis or some exhaustive study that I have conducted but purely based on my personal experience through recovery. 

This injury introduced me to one of the smartest Podiatrist/Surgeon I have had the pleasure of meeting. I am awe inspired by Dr. Bruce Lehnert who not only has an innate ability to be a master at his craft but has also proven to be numinous for many children in Vietnam where he has given the gift of walking to many who had no chance of ever having access to surgical procedures to repair their congenital foot disorders. 

Then there are family and friends. I am fortunate to have an amazing wife who pushed me and helped me heal both mentally and physically. Having been a caregiver in the past, I am all too familiar with the toll it takes. Without her, this would have been far more excruciating. My friends have been incredibly supportive and kind. My advice to anyone who is going through any type of recovery is to never turn down an offer from a friend to just hang out with you. It unties you from being maudlin. Friends are the best elixir for you and there is nothing wrong in getting pampered during your recovery. 

I am walking now after 8 weeks and will hopefully be back on a trail soon. This is has been a tough but an incredible learning experience and I can’t thank all of the people who have helped me including strangers that opened doors for me and the small gestures of kindness everywhere. 

Blood, Sweat and Years

January 13, 2016

Love, Sweat & Years

30 years in USA

A grey custom tailored suit, an Aristocrat VIP hard shell plastic suitcase and a duffel bag. Some clothes, a pair of worn out shoes, an oversized woolen sweater stitched by my grandmother, a couple of hundred dollars and a jar full of my mothers tears. This is what I left with on this very day, 30 years ago. Palam Airport, TWA flight to New York JFK and then on to LAX. Listening to “Take on Me” by A-Ha, over and over again on the flight, the first sight of San Fernando Valley with it’s glistening lights while descending on the 405 freeway and walking into a am-pm mini market and taking in the sight of what seemed an endless variety of wrigley chewing gums (yeah, they were a big deal in India). Incredible! I was smitten with USA on day one.

My father was often complimented by many of his friends for being a “self made man”. I have heard this over the years and a few have said the same to me in recent times.  I understood the words but could never really reconcile with them, I still can’t. How can anyone ever be self made? After all, your mere presence in this world is due to someone else. The point being, there is no way anyone can ever be “self made”. My journey of 30 years in this amazing land is proof that I am here because of countless hands that reached out to help me at various junctures of my life. I could never profess to be “self made”. 

Unlike a rolling stone, a journey this long, gathers plenty of moss. It would take me a sizable time to chronicle and to recognize all of the people who have made an impact on me over the years but there are many without whom I would not be here.  These were people who never knew me and yet found a place in their home for me to stay, without whom, I would have been truly homeless. These were people who helped me while I was down and out and gave me whatever they could, a hug, a compliment, a hand whenever I needed something, anything. The journey has seen a lot of blood, sweat, years and many tears. I am thankful and fortunate to be where I am in my life and I wanted to take this moment to recognize the people behind it. 

No man is an island,

Entire of itself,

Every man is a piece of the continent,

A part of the main.

If a clod be washed away by the sea,

Europe is the less.

As well as if a promontory were.

As well as if a manor of thy friend's

Or of thine own were:

Any man's death diminishes me,

Because I am involved in mankind,

And therefore never send to know for whom the bell tolls; 

It tolls for thee.  - John Donne

Red Light Camera's in Fremont - What to do if you get a ticket

I am no fan of red light cameras. Well, let me restate that. Unless you can put a red light camera in every intersection, you are not applying the law equally. Worse, the ticket prices are exorbitant. We are talking upwards of $500. Add traffic school fees and the money that the actual traffic school charges, you could be looking at over $700. I hope you know that I am not suggesting that you do not follow the law, however these tickets are a mostly a money making scheme for cities and counties across USA.

I happened to receive a ticket in Fremont on Mowry and Farwell. I decided to challenge it and paid my $500 fine and asked for a court date. You also have the choice to do a trial by written declaration. I suggest that you not do that. After paying my fine and requesting a court date, I received a notice with a date and a place to appear at the Paseo Padre Court. My strategy was to plead guilty and ask for a reduced fine and traffic school.

When I arrived, the court clerk had posted the defendants list on the wall and very politely explained the process to everyone. He opened the court doors on time and asked all the defendants to be seated. A few minutes later a portly gentleman walked in. He was the public defender. A nice, polite gentleman who went about his business setting up his laptop, managing his file folders while whistling away to his favorite tune. Upon completion of his what seemed like a daily routine, he faced the defendants and went on to explain who he was and his role in the court proceedings on that day. A retired police detective, he went on to explain that his job was to verify the evidence of the camera and attempt to match the photo with the drivers license of the person who owned the vehicle.

He carefully explained that there will be at least 4-5 defendants who he will recommend that the judge dismiss their tickets because of either photo's that were unclear or other evidence that led him to believe that there was not enough merit in the case for it to proceed.

He then proceeded to call out names of the folks who were going to be presented in front of the judge and allowed them to review evidence that he had on his laptop on a DVD. This went on for about 10-15 minutes and then he called out the names of 5 people who he asked to step outside the courtroom in an alcove. He went on to explain that all 5 of us were going to be recommended for dismissal in front of the judge and he wanted us to step out so that the rest of the folks in the courtroom would not feel bad (what a nice guy).

The court began it's session and the first 5 people to be called were the ones being recommended for dismissal and the judge agreed to all of them. I received my dismissal papers and while waiting I heard a couple of cases being presented. Here are my key learnings:

• Never pay a traffic ticket from a red light camera outright. In my case, my photo was blurry but I was not sure if that would matter. So had I paid my ticket, my case would have never been dismissed and I would have paid $500 plus traffic school fees for no reason. 
• Right turn on red is one of the easiest ones that the judge will either dismiss with a warning or reduce the penalty significantly (as witnessed by me in the courtroom), additionally the right on red is a zero point violation so no need to go to traffic school and waste your time and money.
• Ask for reduction in fine. This will succeed almost always unless of course you blatantly jumped the light with your middle finger pointed at the camera.
• The Fremont court is friendly and the court clerk and the detective were extremely polite and helpful (red light camera court). I am not sure if these folks are always there or not. Your mileage might vary and please don't write to me complaining if you ran into a someone who was not as I described.

Surgery for your aging dog

I can't profess to be a much of a dog lover. While growing up in India, my family never had a pet. I ached for a parrot but somehow a caged bird wasn't my cup of tea and moreover my father never really agreed on letting me keep one.

Dodger Dog

Fast forward a couple of decades and travel several thousand miles and here I am in USA the land of the free and the home of the dog lovers. About 12 years ago, I caved into my kids and wife's desire to get a dog. We brought home a chubby golden retriever with a penchant for mischief and named him dodger. No one liked the name but since I am a big fan of the LA Dodgers, my condition for getting the dog and naming him Dodger did not face stiff resistance.


Years passed and Dodger has grown on me. I still can't let him lick my face and stand to have him breath on me but other than that, I am good to go. The standard unconditional love sans the unending greed for food and a penchant for cuteness beyond anyone's imagination has me completely swept off my feet. Well maybe not completely but I do love this dog.

The purpose of this blog was to highlight a condition we faced with Dodger recently as it may help others who are facing the same dilemma. Dodger over the years developed lipoma's all over his body. Some were small to begin with but grew over time. We took him to the vet early on and they ran a gamut of tests on him including a biopsy which came back negative, much to our collective relief.

The vet suggested surgery but told us that if it the Lipoma's were not bothering Dodger's mobility or otherwise grew bigger, we had nothing to worry about. Time went by and Dodger started developing more Lipoma's. My wife and I were in a quandary. On one hand we wanted to get these removed and on the other, our Dog was getting old and we were still unsure if these bothered him.

In December we decided to take Dodger in for surgery. It was an opportune time as both my wife and I had plenty of time off during the holidays which would allow us to be at home with Dodger. Having done plenty of research on the web, we still found ourselves unsure if we should proceed with the surgery. Upon doing further research, I stumbled upon an article from a lady who was facing a similar dilemma. You can read it here. This blog post convinced us to have Dodger's Lipoma's removed.


On the day of the surgery, Dodger went into the clinic and was extremely apprehensive and restless. The surgeon gave my wife the perfunctory speech about the risks from surgery. My wife left Dodger at the clinic and we patiently waited. The news was positive, Dodger had done well. He had a lot of fatty tissue removed and had been sutured up. A day later, we brought him home. The sutures were tough to manage. With Dodger's mobility it was hard for the sutures to heal completely as they kept oozing, requiring frequent trips back to the vet. A second follow up procedure was performed to drain the fluids from his wounds and he was re-sutured. The hard work that my wife put in has paid off tremendously. Dodger has done remarkably well and has more energy than before. One of the best outcomes of the surgery has been that we have started feeding him home cooked food and stopped giving him store bought dog food. It's a basic recipe of rice, minced chicken or beef with lots of vegetables (celery & carrots). With this new diet, Dodger sheds less hair than ever, has lost weight and is more energetic.  I personally think that we have not only added more years to Dodger's life but have made the rest of his life better.

Kale, Not Super Enough For Me

The food revolution in America has resurrected Kale to the Super Food status. A green, sickly looking leaf which garnished the plates of cheap diner dishes in years gone by, has all of a sudden skyrocketed to fame. Take a couple of celebrity chefs, sprinkle in a few juicy buzzwords, get Huffington Post to write an article gushing with praises of a "leaf" and you have a star in the making. Except, I still fucking hate Kale. I have always hated Kale and just like Justin Beiber would never grow on me, neither will Kale. My hope is that Kale will get relegated back to obscurity on the diner plates and never grace my salad. Yes, I know that it has more Vitamin C than Orange Juice but puhlease do not serve it to me in any Juice form as a matter of fact, in any form. Sorry Kale Chips but I do carry a grudge with anything that looks like only a cow would chew. If I want to get some Kale in my body, I will prefer eating the Cow that ate the kale instead.  

What is wrong with butter chicken in America??

Lazy summer evenings in Delhi with the erstwhile Mohan Meakins, Golden Eagle chilled beer. A quick short drive (those were the days) to Moti Mahal in Daryaganj and you were whisked in by a lanky, burly mustached guard in royal style. You step into a large courtyard that looked like the Veranda of a my grandmothers village home. Replete with red bricks pieced together like a mosaic with greenish edges from the moisture, rain and the sun that pummels it everyday. Modest tables and chair with freshly starched white table covers that show signs of wear and tear around the edges and an occasional small hole with frayed fabric. The table was usually adorned with a small fresh flower in a vase surrounded by cheap plastic salt and pepper shakers and a bowl of vinegar laced, small red pickled onions that were tart enough to cause lockjaw with the first bite.

The menu used to be laminated in plastic and was a simple and straightforward. The most famous dish to be ordered at Moti Mahal was and still is their butter chicken. Some might say it was their tandoori chicken but the butter chicken comprised of a tandoori chicken that was cooked in a rich butter sauce with tomatoes. The taste was simple yet elegant and in a recent visit to Delhi, I stopped by to try "THE BUTTER CHICKEN". All I can say is, the dish was as good on that day as it used to be 30 years ago. Wait, maybe even better. Our waiter told us that he had been working at Moti Mahal for about 20 plus years and the burly mustached guard had recently passed away much to our dismay. Since we had arrived around 6 PM there was no one in the restaurant, which allowed us to interact with our server at ease. We ordered Burra Kabab, Tandoori Chicken and of course, Chicken Makhani with Rumali Roti and Naan.

Can you say food coma? After having lived in the USA for 25 years, I have yet to find a place that can come within 15 miles of this delicious delicacy. So, the question of the day is? What is wrong with butter chicken in America? Why is everyone here so hell bent on trying to be so authentic that they lose authenticity. I sometimes wonder if the Chinese knock off watchmakers actually sat down and spent time on a great original watch will they be able to make a better watch than Rolex? I think so. Same can be said for the many Indian restaurateurs in America specially when it comes to this classic Indian Mughlai Dish. The only thing I can say to the defense of the hapless wannabe Indian Chef's in the USA is that the quality of the chicken itself cannot be replicated here. The chicken in India is of the smaller variety. A tandoori chicken for instance cannot be made with a hen weighing more than 2 pounds. In fact the ideal weight for a well made tandoori chicken is somewhere in the neighborhood of 700 grams. The only type of chicken in the USA that comes close is the cornish game hen and you would be hard pressed to find one which weighs less than 2 pounds. Here is a recipe from my wife that I believe comes pretty darn close to the Indian original. My advice is to find the smallest chicken/hen possible. Organic free range chicken from a reputable store such as whole foods would be a way to go.
A classic butter chicken requires that you make tandoori chicken first and then add it to a tomato/butter sauce which can be prepared ahead of time.


For the Tandoori Chicken

1 Small/Medium Size Organic Chicken cut up in roughly about 10 pieces and skin removed
Score the chicken pieces to allow the marinade to seep into the chicken (all the way to the bone).
This is an important step

First Marinade

Salt to taste
1 Tablespoon Red Chili Powder
1 teaspoon ginger paste
1 teaspoon garlic paste
Juice from 1 lemon

Mix the ingredients and the chicken together and let sit for 30 minutes.

Second Marinade

1 cup hung yogurt ( put about 1 1/2 cup yogurt in a muslin cloth and hang for about an hour or so until the water is drained)
1 teaspoon ginger paste
1 teaspoon garlic paste
1 teaspoon red chili powder
1 tablespoon garam masala
pinch of mace (optional)
3 Tablespoon olive oil (Mustard oil is preferred)

Whisk the ingredients and rub it into the marinated chicken. Marinade for at least 1 hour and up to 6-8 hours in a fridge. Please take the chicken out for an hour prior to cooking. If you are only going to marinate the chicken for an hour leave it covered on your kitchen counter.

Cook the chicken on a charcoal grill to get the best flavor (gas grill should be your other option). Oven cooking just does not do justice to this chicken I am afraid. Get the edges of the chicken pieces to char a bit to add that extra flavor.

Butter Sauce

2 Tablespoon Grated Ginger (chopped ginger somehow does not work because of the chunks)
1/2 stick unsalted butter
1 Tablespoon Garam Masala
1 Teaspoon Red Chili Powder
1 Teaspoon Sugar
4 to 5 Good Quality organic tomatoes Peeled, seeded and chopped (puree is fine as well)
2 Tablespoons Tomato Paste
1/2 Cup heavy Cream

In a large pan heat butter without burning it. Add ginger paste and sauté for a few minutes. Add chopped tomatoes. Cook for about 3-4 minutes and add the tomato paste, salt, garam masala, chili powder & sugar. Cook for an additional 15 minutes or so until the sauce has come together nicely and fat is separating from the sauce. Add the tandoori chicken pieces and cook for an additional 5 to 8 minutes. Top with Cream and serve hot with Rice or Naan.

A quick note about Garam Masala. We make our own in the house in order to control the elements that go into this important ingredient. Buying store made masala is an obvious option but choose one that is balanced. Most garam masalas in the market tend to be made with a mix which is heavy on the cheaper ingredients (cumin, coriander, black pepper) and light on the expensive ones (cardamom, cinnamon). I am not entirely sure how you would know the balance other than just trying. Another option would be that you could get the packaged garam masala and in a $10 electric grinder add some extra pieces of green and black cardamom with a couple of slivers of cinnamon to enhance it. There is a recent but disturbing trend among some Indian women to add Star Anise to the masala. Help fight this trend. Don't let friends add Star Anise to Garam Masala :-)