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Accidentally Engaged

Page 29

by Farah Heron


  “Imagine.” Mum looked at Dad, eyes dancing with joy. “Two children married, and the third engaged. We are very blessed.”

  Dad seemed uncomfortable with all this familial joy, though, and started searching the room. “Did Saira speak to you?”

  “No. About what?”

  Dad frowned. “Saira? Come!”

  Saira appeared, rolling her eyes. “Steve was just about to tell me what’s in the lentil soup…”

  “Tell her what we talked about last night,” Dad ordered.

  “Fine.” She turned to Reena. “Dad still hasn’t finalized a lease for the corner unit in the Diamond building. I proposed he rent it to me. To us, actually, if you’re willing.”

  “You want to go into business? With me?”

  “Yes. The space is perfect for a store/café. Or bakery/store/café. You’re the best cook out there, and we both know a thing or two about retail management. And then the cookbook—who’s to say we can’t pitch the project together? Hell, I know the food will be better with your help, and the publishers will probably cream themselves to get a name attached to this FoodTV contest of yours. The cookbook could tie into the café, gaining us more exposure.”

  After cringing at Saira for saying cream themselves in front of Mum and Dad, Reena felt an unfamiliar optimism blossom in her core. It was a preposterous idea. A ridiculous, ambitious, wonderful idea. Owning her own café instead of working numbers. Surrounded by bread instead of cubicles.

  “How can we afford it?”

  “With a partner,” Dad said. “Put together a business plan, and maybe I’ll invest. I think it might be a good idea to sell your building and focus on the Diamond project completely.”

  Mum grinned. “I asked Leon if he would help with your business plan, and he’s offered to mentor you to help get it off the ground. He wanted to hire you at Top Crust, by the way, but Angie wanted the more numbers person. Leon always lets his employees have the final say for staffing their own departments.”

  Holy shit. Leon Bergeron, the president of Top Crust bakery, offered to mentor her to help start her own bakery?

  “Wait, Mum, is Leon doing this so you’ll finally let him into your poker club?”

  Mum nodded. “Probably. But sometimes we have to make sacrifices for family. And if we let men in, then your father can join, too. We’ll have to change the name.”

  Reena laughed. Oh, lord, to be a fly on the wall in that poker game. Reena thought about it. This venture would mean working with her father, her mother, her sister, and her mother’s friend. A terrifying prospect, but…It was just a proposal. She wasn’t committing to anything.

  “Okay. Let’s talk about this and maybe put together a proposal.”

  “Yay!” Saira squealed, hugging her way too tight. Reena felt so good about this idea. She was ready to build this with her family.

  Marley cornered her next. “Love is in the air. Look,” she said, pointing to the area where the FoodTV cameraperson was setting up big LED lights on poles. Shayne stood nearby with his arm around Anderson Lin. Shayne was staring fondly at Anderson’s earlobe, probably considering taking it in his mouth. And Anderson was an adorable shade of pink.

  Reena giggled. Then stilled. If Anderson and Shayne were going to be a thing again, she needed to come clean about everything, no matter what it meant for the contest. She pulled on Nadim’s arm and guided him toward them.

  “Anderson, before we film the segment, Nadim and I have a confession. We weren’t really engaged when we entered the contest.” She explained everything, their parents setting them up, their refusal to be married, and the fake engagement to enter the contest.

  Anderson frowned. “So, you’re not really married?”

  “Yeah, we’re married now, but we weren’t engaged when we made the videos,” Nadim said.

  “So, you weren’t a couple back then?”

  “No, we were a couple.” Reena said. “Just not engaged.”

  Anderson shrugged. “You guys are making this more complicated than it needs to be. Your parents set you up, you were a couple, and now you’re married. Sounds like you were engaged to me. I’d like to start in five minutes. Are you ready?”

  Reena and Nadim looked at each other and burst out laughing. Anderson was as wise as he was cute. There had been nothing fake about their engagement, ever.

  Reena’s face felt like it would split in two as she walked toward the front of the room, holding Nadim’s hand. Mum and Dad’s gift had changed everything. He wasn’t leaving. She didn’t think she’s ever been so happy in her life. Until a sudden thought occurred to her. She pulled Nadim to the corner behind tables overladen with smoky tandoori chicken, fluffy naan, cucumber-mint raita, saffron-scented rice, and huge bowls of fresh green salads. She put her hands on her husband’s forearms and bit her lip.

  “You okay with my Dad’s job offer?” she asked.

  His grin was wide, not a hint of apprehension behind that intense gaze. “I’m ecstatic about it. I can’t believe I get to stay here with you. I am so happy right now.”

  “But”—she tried to smile, but her nerves were going into high alert—“it turns out we didn’t need to get married to get you a visa…I mean if Dad wants to hire you back anyway, then you have the work permit, and—”

  He kissed her. Not too long, or too deep (a great man knew when not to mess up a woman’s lipstick) but with more love than she’d thought was possible in her life. “It’s a good thing I married you because I wanted to then, not because I needed to.”

  She sighed with relief and wrapped her hands around his neck. “I love you.”

  He kissed her neck before whispering in her ear, “If you open that place with your sister, I’ll be your landlord.”

  She smiled. “I know. We’ll play landlord and tenant later for practice.”

  He chuckled, burying his face in her neck and inhaling deeply. “I don’t get it. How do you always smell like…home? Like you belong right here in my arms.”

  She laughed as she pulled him toward the table at the front. The ylang-ylang. Her mother was a bloody genius.

  Finally, they were ready to start filming the video. Guests sat at tables surrounding Reena and Nadim, who stood in front of a long table decorated with cut flowers, her big cutting board, and a little hot plate. They were going to demonstrate how to make samosas and masala chai, but the food itself wasn’t as important as the celebration.

  “Okay, we’re ready. Try not to look at the camera, and look natural,” Anderson instructed the brunch guests.

  After delivering their practiced on-screen banter while filling samosa wrappers with a mixture of spiced turkey, peas, and potatoes, they boiled chai with lightly crushed spices. Nadim looked at the camera.

  “Today’s theme is family celebrations. And while so many people across this country are celebrating Thanksgiving, we are celebrating something else. Just two days ago, this beautiful woman and I stood under the stars and said our vows together. And today, we have invited our friends and family together to celebrate our marriage. We have learned from our pasts and are excited for our future. But more than anything, we are savoring our present.” He leaned down and kissed her.

  Reena grinned to the camera. “And we are so grateful to all of our family for joining us! Home cooking has connected us to our roots, to our homes, to our families, and to each other.” She held up a glass of champagne. “To home cooking!”

  After the toast, Nadim put his glass down and looked into Reena’s eyes. She couldn’t believe how lucky she had been that day to find him in her lobby. She couldn’t believe this life was really hers. She bit her lip before linking her arms around his neck and pulling him down. “I love you,” she said against his lips.

  He smiled widely before kissing her.

  “Cut! Amazing. That’s a wrap. You’re all done,” Anderson said once they pulled apart.

  But they weren’t all done. They had only just begun.

  PRESS RELEASE

 
TORONTO—Sisters Saira Manji and Reena Remtulla announced a June 5 grand opening of REESA’S, a high-concept café, bakery, and health food store in Markham, Ontario.

  Reena and her husband, Nadim Remtulla, famously won the FoodTV Home Cooking Showdown in October, wowing viewers with their homey Indian cooking and playful banter. The couple was recently showcased in a FoodTV special, highlighting Canada’s rich culture of home cooking. Reena was previously a successful food blogger whose amateur bread baking won many blogging awards.

  Saira’s background is in dietary nutrition, and she was a regular blogger on the Nourish food blog, where she demonstrated how to adapt Indian recipes for the health-conscious. The sisters have also penned a cookbook, which will be in stores in September, containing recipes for traditional and modern delicacies, as well as naturally leavened breads from around the world.

  Mentored by Leon Bergeron, president of the Top Crust Bakery chain, Saira and Reena promise soups, sandwiches, and lunch fare, along with slow-fermented sourdough breads and delectable pastries at REESA’S. They also plan to showcase traditional East African Indian cuisine, and will serve fresh rotis, bhajias, samosas, and kebobs, along with what they call the best masala chai north of the 401 highway. REESA’S, with its elegant decor inspired by India and East Africa, promises to be a welcome addition to an up-and-coming Markham neighborhood.

  Media inquiries can be addressed to: Nadim Remtulla, General Manager, Diamond Enterprises.

  Nadim’s Zanzibar Egg Curry

  1 large onion, peeled

  1 400-gram can whole tomatoes (14 oz.)

  1 tbsp cooking oil or ghee

  1 cinnamon stick

  3 cloves

  ½ tsp mustard seeds

  4 green cardamom pods

  1 tsp grated ginger (or ginger puree)

  2 cloves garlic, minced (or 1 tsp garlic puree)

  1 tsp ground coriander seed

  1 tsp ground cumin seed

  ½ tsp ground fennel seeds

  ½ tsp Kashmiri chili powder (or cayenne pepper)

  1 tsp salt

  2 medium potatoes, peeled, and cut into 1½-inch cubes

  8 hard-boiled eggs, shelled

  Handful of chopped cilantro for serving

  In a food processor, chop onion until fine (or dice fine by hand). Rinse food processor bowl, then use it to puree tomatoes.

  In medium saucepan, heat oil or ghee over medium heat. Add cinnamon stick, cloves, mustard seeds, and cardamom. Cook for 2 minutes, then add onions.

  Cook the onions over medium heat until brown—almost burned. If onions stick to the bottom of the pot, add a splash of water to deglaze and continue browning. Keep going this way until onions are very brown.

  Reduce heat to medium low, and add ginger, garlic, remaining spices, and salt. Stir and cook one minute. Add pureed tomatoes. Stir through, then simmer with the lid on for 5 minutes.

  Add potatoes and whole boiled eggs, stir, and simmer 15 to 20 minutes until the potatoes are soft.

  Garnish with cilantro, and serve with parathas.

  Reena’s Plain Parathas

  2 cups durum atta flour (or substitute whole wheat flour)

  ½ tsp salt

  2 tbsp vegetable oil

  1-1¼ cup warm water

  ¼ cup vegetable oil or ghee for brushing

  Extra atta flour for rolling out

  Mix flour and salt in a bowl.

  Add 2 tbsp oil, and rub between fingers until it looks like coarse meal and holds together when squeezed in hand.

  Drizzle warm water over it, a little at a time, and mix by hand until a soft dough is formed. It should be quite soft and pliable and a little sticky.

  Knead dough for about five minutes until no longer sticky. Add more flour if necessary, but dough should be soft.

  Form into a ball and cover. Rest at least 30 minutes.

  Knead dough briefly again and divide into 6 equal balls.

  Coat one ball completely in flour, and roll in plenty of flour to prevent sticking. Roll with a rolling pin to a 7-to-8-inch circle. (Skip to cooking step 11 to make maani/rotis/chapatti instead of parathas.)

  Brush surface with oil or melted ghee. Sprinkle with a pinch of flour.

  Perform 2 letter folds with the circle of dough to create layers. To do this, fold the top third of the circle down. Brush folded side with oil and sprinkle with flour. Fold the bottom third up, covering the folded side of the last fold. Brush with oil and sprinkle with flour. You should now have a narrow strip of dough like a folded letter. Repeat previous two folds, folding the right third toward the left, brushing with oil and sprinkling with flour, then folding the left third to the right, covering the folded side of the last fold.

  Now you should have a 2-to-3-inch square of dough. Sprinkle with flour and roll out again, pressing evenly and turning often to maintain the square shape. Roll to a 7-to-8-inch square.

  Place rolled paratha on a dry pan heated on medium. Cook about one minute until you see small bubbles on the surface. Flip and brush with oil/ghee. It should start ballooning up at this point. Press the bubbles with a spatula to encourage layers. Flip again and brush the other side with oil/ghee.

  Keep cooking, flipping often and pressing the bubbles and edges with the spatula until cooked through, with dark spots on both sides. Keep in a covered container to prevent drying out.

  Repeat from step 7 with remaining dough balls.

  Enjoy with curry, chutney, or jam.

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  Acknowledgments

  When I was a kid, I used to beg my mother to cook something other than Indian food sometimes.

  My parents were married in Tanzania when they were both twenty-two. They moved to Canada a few months later. Eventually they had my sister, then me. We watched hockey or Bollywood most nights, and all we ate was the East African–influenced Indian food they were raised on. They spoke to us in a hybrid English/Kutchi, with a bit of Gujarati and Swahili sprinkled in, and they didn’t care that we weren’t interested in learning the language or learning how to cook. My parents were supportive and obliging, so Mum agreed to vary our diet. We’d have kuku paka one night, lasagna the next. Kebob jo shaak, followed by meat loaf.

  As an adult, I became obsessed with cooking. Bread from scratch, homemade pasta, Chinese, Thai, Caribbean food, plus any baked goods you could imagine. I love learning to cook food from around the world. But when I want to feel connected to the beautiful country of Tanzania, and my own specific culture—East African Indian Muslim Canadian—I turn to our food. That is what this book is about, connecting to your roots through food. Writing a romance between two people finding their place in their culture and falling in love through their love of home cooking was such a joy for me, and I am grateful to everyone who had a part in making this book happen.

  Thank you to my wonderful agent, Rachel Brooks, for having faith in me and for always supporting marginalized writers to get our stories told. Thank you to the early readers for this book, Jackie Lau, Laura Heffernan, and Roselle Lim, not only for their feedback on the manuscript, but also for being great friends who are always there for me through this publishing journey. Thank you to Jennifer Lambert, whose editorial advice on this project was invaluable. A huge thank-you to my editor at Forever, Leah Hultenschmidt, for her amazing insight and for knowing exactly how to make this book be the absolute best it could be. Thank you to the rest of the team at Forever/Grand Central Publishing, the acquisition team, production editors, art department, marketing, sales, and publicity.

  This book is dedicated to my parents, Nazir and Shahida, and I want to thank them for being who they are. I was worried about how to write a book with unsupportive, meddling, and judgmental parents, and it turned out to be so easy. I just had to write the exact opposite of my own parents.

  Thank you to my rock, my best friend, my comrade in
arms through life, my husband, Tony. Like the couple in this book, we came together because of an obsession with food. Years ago, when we barely knew each other, we stayed up all night together waiting for a cooking show to come on in the morning. Twenty-three years later, there is still no one else I would rather be in the kitchen with.

  And finally, to my kids, Khalil and Anissa. They asked me to write a limerick to celebrate how much I love that I get to raise two amazing humans, but I’m no poet. They are awesome, and I am lucky they’re mine. They are the best people I know.

  About the Author

  After a childhood raised on Bollywood, Monty Python, and Jane Austen, Farah Heron wove complicated story arcs and uplifting happily-ever-afters in her daydreams while pursuing careers in human resources and psychology. She started writing those stories down a few years ago and never looked back. She writes romantic comedies and women’s fiction full of huge South Asian families, delectable food, and most importantly, brown people falling stupidly in love. She lives in Toronto with her husband, two children, and a rabbit. She is considering getting a cat.

  To learn more, visit:

  FarahHeron.com

  Twitter @FarahHeron

  Instagram @FarahHeronAuthor

  Facebook.com/FarahHeronAuthor

 

 

 


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