It all started with Bill Clinton. He was the first American president to set the juices flowing as he dipped his fingers into all the steamy platters that appeared in quick succession before him during his historic visit to Delhi, way back in 2002. He licked them clean—the fingers, that is—for as anyone knows, he has always been a hands-on kinda guy, and before you could whisper ‘Bukhara’, a new marketing brainwave had taken shape: Why not a ‘Clinton Platter’?
And that’s why, today, at the Maurya Sheraton’s famous Bukhara restaurant in Delhi, you can help yourself to “an aromatic spread of mixed meats and oven-baked breads”, as the spiel goes, for a modest Rs 4,700, while vegetarians can opt for a Chelsea (Clinton) Platter for Rs 4,200. Rather than nibble at theirs, Mom Hillary feasted on tandoori jheenga, murgh malai kababs and an assortments of breads straight from the ovens of the former Uzbek hordes—who clearly swept down the plains of Hindustan just so that they could be remembered, many centuries later, as the originators of the ‘Hillary Bukhara Platter’. Thus was born the fad of the celebrity platter.
But it had its limitations. Obviously, there could never have been a ‘Carter Platter’. Quite aside from the disturbing assonance, imagine a dish filled with peanuts. There couldn’t possibly have been a ‘Reagan Platter’ either, filled as it would be with hyperactive jelly beans. And how sad-looking a ‘Nixon Platter’ would have been, just cottage cheese and ketchup, while a ‘George Bush Platter’ would certainly have to be stuffed turkey, spilling over with (W) water-chestnuts, (M) mash, and (Ds) dates.
Going beyond American presidents, how would one conduct platter diplomacy with the French, who, as the inventors of gastronomic snobbery, would hardly travel abroad without their own chefs? And should one bother, anyway? In the days of Mitterand, a ‘Presidential Platter’ (strictly French cuisine, of course) might have been a thing of rare drama, involving the presentation of a small singing bird, the ortolan, that had been soaked in Armagnac and flambeed before being eaten whole, still singing presumably, into the presidential grand bouche. But since the advent of Sarko, who will be visiting us next month, there has been such a serious decline in the country’s culinary traditions that we hardly dare engage with them. For one thing the Wife, though gorgeous and Italian, has publicly declared her dislike for French haute cuisine. As for the man himself, the rumour goes that he would be quite happy to fill his platter with yoghurt and chocolates.
As for the Chinese who, we have heard, will also be dropping by next month, they will be sure to arrive with their own ‘Jade Platters’, just in case one of the numerous Nobel peace prize aspirants of Tibetan origin working in an Indian kitchen decides to throw a spot of arsenic into them (always cracks the jade!). Wouldn’t it be nice, though, if some obliging hotel came up, at the precise moment Wen Jiabao flies into town, with a ‘Dalai Lama Platter’, a beautiful lacquered bowl filled with tsampa and green tea with a Chinese fortune cookie by the side that will crack open to reveal a tiny electronic version of Richard Gere repeating: “Free Tibet. Free Tibet. Free tickets to my latest movie.”
Speaking of which, isn’t it time for an ‘Aung San Who She Platter’? It could be a platter of Delhi Blue filled with pani-puri to remind her of the gentle Delhi spring of her salad days. Or more to the point, a ‘Truth and Forgiveness Platter’ made of our regrets for not doing enough for her, holding perhaps a single white jasmine flower. Like the lady herself, it would remind us that there are some people who are beyond platters.
Finally, there’s the question that has haunted all food lovers in the country ever since The Visit: Was there an ‘Obama Platter’, and if so, what did he eat? Remember that Michelle Obama is something of a Prince Charles Original when it comes to eating organic, growing vegetables in the White House back garden, or advising others to do so in their own backyards. For instance she’s reported to having admitted, “We’re sweet potato people”. Or, “Vegetables and fruits are not the enemy, they are the secret to a good future”. Or, more mysteriously, “No soda. Drink water”. Are we glad that Morarji Desai was not around to host the dinner?
So we leave it to our readers to decide: what exactly did President Barack Obama find on his ‘Indian Platter’?
