Of cigarettes, conversations and chocolate eclairs

Truffle pudding

One time, I met Promina Dasgupta Barve in 2017. I was visiting to interview her for a piece on offal, and how chefs were promoting the consumption of every part of an animal, from nose to tail. "You are vegetarian? Boring. But you will take that mini bite of yours?" Pia, as she was popularly known, teased me.

If you met Pia once, you became a part of her inner circle. She'd sit in her armchair with Suzy, the Pomeranian, by her side. The smoke from the cigarette she lit was akin to a spell that drew you into her world of stories. A trip she was taking to Sri Lanka, her time as a tea master, baking bread... And in between, she'd give orders to her kitchen staff - all in one breath.

Kidney pudding

That day, we baked a kidney pudding, in her red-tiled kitchen, full of pots and pans, amid the developing aroma of good cooking mingling with something taken off the stove. You needed to clear your schedule to meet her; for spending time with her meant hours gone. I would leave with a headache every time, bracing the smoke. But the heart would be filled with warmth.

Pia was the daughter of legendary culinary writer Minakshie Dasgupta, who ran Kolkata's first Bengali food restaurant, Kewpie's Kitchen. She began Food Boutique, a professional catering service in the 1960s, and later diversified into the distribution of packaged food. She was the first woman in the country's meatpacking trade, had a stint in exporting frozen mango pulp and vegetables, and worked with biscuit manufacturer Britannia. She was at the forefront of the evolution and export of teabags from India and was a trained tea taster. Her bread rolls, roast turkey, spicy crab, fish curry, pork roast and desserts such as the trifle pudding and chocolate eclairs were delicious. She cooked every cuisine with the authority of a master.

File photo of ‘Pia' Promina Dasgupta Barve at her house in Bandra during an SMD shoot in 2017

Home chef Ananya Banerjee calls Pia her go-to person. "Our friendship goes back 12 years. If I needed vendor contacts, she was there to share. She would even pass on her clients to me when she was unable to take an order. No one does that. She was the queen of hacks, who wore the boss attitude! An insomniac like me, we indulged in late-night chatter and it was not always about food."

Mumbai-based Smita Deo, who specialises in Karwar and Kolhapuri cuisine, met Pia in 2016 at a potluck dinner at Banerjee's house. "It was the first time I met someone who spoke more than me! At the gathering, I saw this chubby woman wearing a pair of jeans and a loose top. She was sitting in a corner. The chair next to her was empty. I asked if I could take the seat and she said, sure. Within a few minutes, we got along like we knew each other forever," Deo shares. "She spoke about her struggles as a chef and numerous ventures. She was a bhandaar of knowledge; not without strong opinions and views, of course."

Pia with her husband, Hemant Barve, in Thailand

We are told that in the last few months, Pia had requested her foodie friends to cook something for her. She ordered Deo to make chops for her husband Hemant, and a bangda curry with triphal for herself. Deo says, "Pia went through many ups and downs in her business but never gave up. That's what I learnt from her."

The first time Pia ate Assamese home chef Gitika Sakia's meal at a pop-up, she walked up to her to say she hadn't enjoyed the food. "That was Pia for you, telling you like it is. I took it as critical feedback, and over time, we became close," says Saikia. When her orders increased and she didn't have space to buy another refrigerator to store ingredients from Assam, Pia offered her own storage facility with three refrigerators and two chillers," says Saikia, who was in Assam at the time of Pia's passing last week. "A week prior, she had sent me a warm text saying she is glad to have met me and will always love me. She was like family."

While she was renowned for her culinary skills and the art of feeding, that was simply an extension of who she was, her son Hrishit tells this writer. "She was a master baker, and her repertoire was vast. When I was growing up, birthday cakes were expensive and so mine would come baked by her in all kinds of shapes, some even on the shape of trains and clowns. She cooked to feed the family, and anyone she presumed to be family."