Category: Food For Thought

In pickle jars, there is a lifetime preserved

KV Prasad Jun 13, 2022, 06:35 AM IST (Published)

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Summer time is ideal for pickling especially with the glut of spring vegetables and of course, raw mangoes in the market.

Apart from being the best supporting act in a meal, the pickle with its tangy taste always pulls on our emotions.

The small dab – that we mix with our rice or pluck with chappatis on our dining plate – talks of our own family’s diet through the years.

The choice of fruit or vegetable used in a pickle tides us through the leaner seasons.

The mainstay however of a good pickle, is what the taste conjures up in our minds, despite the brand name, packaging or price.

I associate pickles with summer reading, an odd combination.

It started with visits to my maternal grandmother’s home in Goa.

She would cook up the best pickles made from every day vegetables like brinjals, ivy gourd, carrot, lime etc. into delectable sweet, sour or spicy bites, depending on the time of the year and the ripeness of the fruit.

Enid Blyton’s The Enchanted forest came alive to some sweet chewy raw mango bites, Nancy Drew sleuthing prowess was amplified with a bite of sweet-sour carrot sticks, even the Bible stories were read with a bit of salt and spice.

Obviously, my parents tried hard to keep my unhealthy obsession with pickles in check.

The pickle jars stacked on higher kitchen shelves, but I managed to have myself an adventure, seeking out the jars, making sure I used a dry spoon and doled out enough pickle in a ceramic bowl, that would last me till the end of the day’s reading.

The terrace was my favorite reading-eating ground.

The raw mango slivers kept to dry out and then tossed with chilli and salt, were like a carpet of umami goodness.

I would like next to the mat sunning myself with these lovely tiny bites at my arm’s length.

Decades later, there are new habits and old loves.

The pickle stock still commands a shelf in the fridge, and on the kitchen counter top.

I have phone reminder on when to go shop for Ram kela, perfect raw mango to make aam-heeng achar.

Then, there are the pickled meat and fish pickles.

There is a jar of Goan Para, made of marinated dried mackerels/ sting rays stored in a spicy vinegary mix.

The pickled fish can be pan-fried for an instant tangy accompaniment to any rice dish.

The other staple is prawn balchao, for the distinct sweet-hot-sour flavor.

A forever favourite is the Andhra Avakkai pickle made with a strong red chilli paste, the Gongura pickle is another eternal love.

The Kadumanga or simple cut mango with curry leaves, garlic and ginger, pickle from Kerala is another must have. The list, as you may have guessed is long.

We all have our pickle favourites, because the pickle is more than just an amalgamation of sunlight, salt and spices.

My grandmother never made a note of her recipes, and I still hunt for that same sweet-sour flavor of her carrot pickle.

There are few moments when I can almost taste it again, but it is never the same.

It is amazing how a simple dish, means so much more, and the image of that the ubiquitous ceramic pickle jar reminds us of old summers.

With our favourite pickles, we savour memories. Entire lifetimes preserved and relived from time to time.

Sharon Fernandes is a journalist based in Delhi.  

Elon Musk forms several ‘X Holdings’ companies to fund potential Twitter buyout

3 Mins Read

Thursday’s filing dispelled some doubts, though Musk still has work to do. He and his advisers will spend the coming days vetting potential investors for the equity portion of his offer, according to people familiar with the matter

KV Prasad Journo follow politics, process in Parliament and US Congress. Former Congressional APSA-Fulbright Fellow

All Eliza Doolittle may have wanted is a room somewhere, but how about some company now and then?

KV Prasad Jun 13, 2022, 06:35 AM IST (Published)

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For some reason, I am related to quiet, independent women who love to live alone.

My mother and two daughters crave solitude, happiest when left alone.

They keep to themselves, do not know their neighbours, try to do without domestic help and if murdered won’t be found for a very long time.

I, on the other hand, need some kind of bustle around me 24/7.

Two helps have been strategically placed early a.m. and late p.m. respectively; they are encouraged to linger with small talk and tea.

I like to think. I keep an open house, where anyone can drop in anytime and stay as long as they can.

During the day I get by. I am busy with phone calls, passionate trips to the grocer, cooking a little something, pretending to work on my computer.

At nights, though I come unhinged. Every creak, every breeze, every thud go off like bombs in my ears.

Even the moon going about its business in the sky looks sinister.

Ghosts, goblins, bats, snakes, shadows, robbers, rapists, aliens… I expect them all.

Power failures feel personal.

I am the woman in that horror flick you saw, who will go out into the night because she heard a howl, who picks up the phone, when it rings and the killer will say, ‘You are next.’

I await a knock on the door. I feel watched.

All lights on, I stare at the television till 4 a.m., call up all the night-birds I know, and then kind of faint on to the sofa around dawn.

I have been inviting myself over to my mother and kids, but they politely fob me off on the flimsy excuse that I am bossy and try to run their lives.

Asking them to move in with me is pointless because they will suddenly look busy, avoid eye contact and generally act like their lives are full of hectic meetings and parties.

The thing is I was never trained to live alone, though obviously I’ve done a good job with the people I raised.

Keep a pet? Goldfish can’t talk, cats run off yonder, goats need yards and cows are too big to be kept in flats.

And though dogs like me a lot, in fact charge across barking and drooling madly, I do not return this intimacy.

If I travel on work, I am the cheerfullest person in the hotel lobby, inviting every one for a chat.

Bug-eyed, I sit there till about 5 in the morning – and what the reception desk thinks of this I don’t know.

Back in the room, I check every closet, under the bed, behind the curtain etc. and then lie in bed, waiting for everyone to wake up and catch up with me.

I am the first one at the breakfast buffet.

Around noon, however, the world takes on a surreal quality.

I feel I am in a dream sequence. Words reach my ears in slow motion and I struggle to focus. This is roughly the time I am invited to speak/read.

All Eliza Doolittle may have wanted is a room somewhere, but how about some company now and then?

Elon Musk forms several ‘X Holdings’ companies to fund potential Twitter buyout

3 Mins Read

Thursday’s filing dispelled some doubts, though Musk still has work to do. He and his advisers will spend the coming days vetting potential investors for the equity portion of his offer, according to people familiar with the matter

KV Prasad Journo follow politics, process in Parliament and US Congress. Former Congressional APSA-Fulbright Fellow

A case for the dining table

KV Prasad Jun 13, 2022, 06:35 AM IST (Published)

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The dining table, mostly a slab of wood or glass that we take for granted in our homes is actually a more sacred space, than we give it credit for.

Think again, where do we gather around, and discuss our daily routines? Just a look at the dining table and you get an idea about the family. The number of chairs that surround it, the pickle or ketchup bottle at the centre or maybe a cutlery set, there is symmetry and chaos about a dining space that talks about a home.

The Original Hangout Place

While binge watching dramas on Netflix may be the new hangout zone, for a family talk the dining space still holds the prime slot. The map of a household can be seen drawn with the dining space at the core. And a shift in this placement could mean a larger threat not just for nutritional habits but even the behaviour of a family.

American food writer and campaigner, Michael Pollan in his books ‘In Defense of Food: An Eater’s Manifesto’  and ‘The Omnivore’s Dilemma’ mentions how eating together round the table every night is the best way for children to learn how to get along in the world.

He says, “Table manners, for example, are a check on overindulgence, and the fact that other things are going on at the table – such as conversation – encourages us to eat more slowly, which also is a check on overeating.”

The way we dine also reflects our characters, not it’s not just about how we eat but how we share. A family’s dynamics are on display when they are having a meal. Who serves whom? Do you say a prayer before meals? Do you wait for everyone to sit at the table before you begin your meal? There are a lot of dining table habits at home and even when we are outside that speak for us.

For example, an upper middle class family indulging in a sumptuous meal at a restaurant, while their help sits a few feet away, without a plate in front of her, says a lot about that family. It doesn’t take genius to realise how the maid is treated by her employers on a daily basis.

All in the Family

Similarly, discarded plates with unfinished meals hint at lack of discipline, as child brought up by letting him/her waste food will grow up to be an adult who doesn’t respect the hard work that goes in making food table-worthy. Eating habits are life habits and they are built at the table.

Apart from the physical machinations of having a meal, we also arrange our thoughts at a table.

We are acutely aware of our surroundings when we sit to eat, and it is not just the meal, but possibly life affirming instants – the memory of the dining table Formica atop which you ate as a kid, maybe that time you held hands with your spouse over a soft white Egyptian-cotton tablecloth as you celebrated your first wedding anniversary or that scratched plastic table at the Chinese takeaway where you discussed for the first time, if you should have a baby.

Even the tiny office canteen table where you thought hard over a cup of coffee whether the job you were at was right for you. These are moments that changed your life course. And it doesn’t matter whether the meals were non-vegetarian, vegetarian or vegan.

The dining space has always been about the conversations, life lessons and decisions. The table has heard it all.

Sharon Fernandes is a journalist based in Delhi.

Elon Musk forms several ‘X Holdings’ companies to fund potential Twitter buyout

3 Mins Read

Thursday’s filing dispelled some doubts, though Musk still has work to do. He and his advisers will spend the coming days vetting potential investors for the equity portion of his offer, according to people familiar with the matter

KV Prasad Journo follow politics, process in Parliament and US Congress. Former Congressional APSA-Fulbright Fellow

F for fermentation

KV Prasad Jun 13, 2022, 06:35 AM IST (Published)

Listen to the Article (6 Minutes)

It began a decade ago in Delhi, I was fascinated by the reddish-pink concoction that sat sunning itself in a glass jar on my neighbour’s balcony.

The jar reflected the sunlight across our stairwell, like a stained glass church window. It sat there all summer as we hop-scotched in its opal light. I asked her one day about the red drink, and she introduced me to Kanji.

The desi probitotic summer drink found in most Punjabi homes during the summer months.

“I chop up any the best summer vegetable, I add water and salt, and let it sit in the sun, it makes for a yummy drink, we grew up drinking this,” she said pointing to the jar of julienned black carrots, beetroot and mustard seeds that sat at the bottom of a ruby red brine.

I watched her pickle and ferment lots of vegetables and even fruits over the next few years, but back then I had not heard the term, “ferment enthusiast.”

All of last year Instagrammers have been hailing a new probiotic drink, Kombucha.

This tangy fermented beverage made by using black or green tea, fits just right with the high protein Keto diets and body transformation videos on Instagram.

And while there is always a new diet fad, suddenly, everyone is also chanting the F word. Fermentation.

It is not a new fad. All our grandmothers and grandmothers before them have been ferment enthusiasts themselves.

How do you think we got around to making dosa-idli batter, or the chilled cold beer, wine, cheese, curd?

We have always been fermenting food to make it last longer and transform its flavour, longevity and dietary benefits.

Fermented foods are not new additions to our dining tables, from dosa to chaas, each state of India, has its own favourite fermented dish. You know you are biting into a fermented food, when your tongue picks up the distinct acidic sweetness of jalebis or imartis.

The Maharashtrians have the poppy seed covered, fermented rice sweet, the Anarsa. Nagaland has over 100 types of fermented dishes using bamboo shoots, fish, yam leaves, crab etc.

The distinct umami taste to Naga food can be attributed to the Akhuni – a paste of boiled soyabeans, drained and put in the sun to ferment for days –used in various pork and fish dishes.

Another Naga favourite is lau pani or rice beer. Sader Kaenz or fermented rice water from Kashmir, is another perfect summer drink.

Can you imagine a Gujarati thali without their favourite fermented besan preparation – the Dhokla?

Goans have poie or bread that uses sur (coconut toddy) to ferment the dough, Feni made from fermented cashew juice and coconut palm vinegar that gives Sorpotel and Pork vindalhoo its distinct tanginess.

Sindhis celebrate with Doli ki roti (a fried poori made from dough feremented with poppy seeds, fennel seeds and other spices and fermented overnight).

India has been wolfing down fermented food for centuries, as this food processing method that seems like a festival-of-bacteria-in-a-jar protects vegetables and propagates healthy bacteria and prevents the breeding of harmful pathogens like E.coli, salmonella and listeria.

Fermentation is different from pickling where vegetables are cooked and preserved, or curing where the moisture is removed from a dish using salt or sugar.

The beauty of fermented food is that it never has an exact result. Fermenting is creating a dish with live food, you many never be able to replicate the same exact taste.

Like when you attempt to whip up the dosa batter the night before, it may still not rise as well as Amma’s despite using the right amount of soaked rice, urad dal and a pinch of cooked rice.

Fermentation is about patience, a fine equilibrium of temperature and ingredients, but it does reward you with great flavours and health benefits.

So what is your favourite fermented dish? Take your time, let the thought remain overnight.

Sharon Fernandes is a journalist based in Delhi.  

Elon Musk forms several ‘X Holdings’ companies to fund potential Twitter buyout

3 Mins Read

Thursday’s filing dispelled some doubts, though Musk still has work to do. He and his advisers will spend the coming days vetting potential investors for the equity portion of his offer, according to people familiar with the matter

KV Prasad Journo follow politics, process in Parliament and US Congress. Former Congressional APSA-Fulbright Fellow

When your soulmate is looking for his

KV Prasad Jun 13, 2022, 06:35 AM IST (Published)

Listen to the Article (6 Minutes)

Of all the misunderstandings that romcoms bring, the most lethal is the idea of The One.

Yes, there are goofy jokes, ice cream that has to be wiped off chins and soft-focus close-ups of kisses in such films, but they all orbit around the sun of true love.

A pair of clumsy geeks bump into each other, speak in one-liners, dump their respective partners and zoom off into the sunset laughing hysterically.

As a prime part of the audience you blow your nose and take stock of own love-life.

Which is all very well if you are with whoever you consider the love of your life, never to look even sideways at any other member of the opposite sex unto death or blindness.

But most people are riddled with doubts – from their choice of coffee and the shape of their nose to the man they wed.

Romantic prospects that you had circumvented, avoided or downright rejected come back to haunt you in your married life – they all seem to be super-successful, always grinning, and drive a car better than yours.

This brings us to the actual damage caused by romcoms: the insidious feeling of ‘I am not with The One’.

The background score to this thought is all cymbals and drums; if you are in an Ekta Kapoor serial then your head will swerve thrice towards your spouse.

Said spouse, unconcerned and gross, will be stuffing straws into nostrils. He says this is to amuse the kids but you know why – he is an alien sent to earth to keep you from your real soulmate!

Every person you meet after this momentous realisation is a romantic re-prospect.

The guy in the supermarket aisle who says oops … the girl who giggles at your joke.

You read self-help books, breathe deeply, inhale-exhale abdomen onward, count to 10.5 and wait to be found.

The thing about soulmating is that it is, alas, not for life.

Perfect guy becomes perfect bore in a blink. Also, never underestimate the power of the common man when you spy him only for a second; it is a challenge to love truly, deeply, madly, a person you see all the time.

In your head soulmates are obsessed with making you happy, in your house they leave towels on the floor, eat noisily and fail to worship your mother.

What’s worse than realising you are not with your one and only?

That you are one and only to the other. So we come to the 50% soulmate situation where one party is sure this is it and the other party is sure this isn’t it.

In any given twosome there is talk of a third party. Once one of them has moved on, the other will suddenly realise ‘mistake’ and start to stalk the ex.

After an accidental meeting is arranged with the help of sidekick friends, they will launch into a speech about being made for each other, about being a match made in heaven etc.

Only to be told by ex: ‘But I am with my other half now!’

Mr Right is seasonal. He is to do with your age, weight and career goals. Since these fluctuate, so will he.

Two people gazing adoringly at each other in mutual soulmated-ness are thinking ‘he is the one’ and ‘will that girl I gave my number to call?’ respectively.

Shinie Antony is a writer and editor based in Bangalore. Her books include The Girl Who Couldn’t Love, Barefoot and Pregnant, Planet Polygamous, and the anthologies Why We Don’t Talk, An Unsuitable Woman, Boo. Winner of the Commonwealth Short Story Asia Prize for her story A Dog’s Death in 2003, she is co-founder of the Bangalore Literature Festival and director of the Bengaluru Poetry Festival.

Elon Musk forms several ‘X Holdings’ companies to fund potential Twitter buyout

3 Mins Read

Thursday’s filing dispelled some doubts, though Musk still has work to do. He and his advisers will spend the coming days vetting potential investors for the equity portion of his offer, according to people familiar with the matter

KV Prasad Journo follow politics, process in Parliament and US Congress. Former Congressional APSA-Fulbright Fellow

Tricks & treats: How Indians devour food

KV Prasad Jun 13, 2022, 06:35 AM IST (Published)

Listen to the Article (6 Minutes)

You may have heard of Mukbang – a South Korean craze of watching people eat in front of the camera. Though the reasons for its popularity are plenty, I doubt this trend of ‘celebrity-eating’ will ever catch on in India.

Why? Well, because we derive pleasure not from watching others eat, but from our distinct hand-to-mouth actions in which food is delivered not just as a morsel but as a treat.

A Trip to Chaat Paradise

For starters, let’s look at the gaping “aaaah” that accompanies devouring golgappas in Delhi. The science behind this is simple – in the two seconds that the chaatwalla has placed the golgappa in your trusting hands, you must check for the shape – oval or round puri – and accordingly angle your mouth. Then comes the tricky part: a gingerly twirl of your fingers to protect the tiny bundle of water, spice and everything nice from bursting and creating a mess. All that remains then is the golgappa’s levitation to your mouth and the “aaah” that follows. Your trip to chaat paradise is then complete.

The next example is the baby food ball. This is mostly expertly performed by new mothers, nannies or indulgent grandmothers who try to pack in as many nutrients and love as they can in a single morsel.

A crump of boiled veggies, rice, dal and even a snap of papad is first mashed to Play-Doh perfection. It is then mutated into a tiny ping-pong ball-sized morsel using expert swift finger motions. The next step calls for some  guile: distract the the unsuspecting fussy toddler to “see the bird flying” or “look at at the big aeroplane in the sky” to place in its mouth a wholesome meal in one tiny ball.

The true desi, in any part of the world, will eat his dal-chawal, sambhar-rice, thayir sadam and any other combination of rice and gravy, with relish after a quick mashup of the two in the plate. Then the fun carpal bending begins, transporting it to the mouth with a left to right action or a tiny morsel planted quietly in the centre of the mouth minus a loud slurp.

Looking for a Direct Connect

The fork and knife dissections that we watch on television entice us enough to watch cheesy interiors of stuffed chicken breasts or double crusted pizzas. The slow motion is an advertisement for “goodness”. But we Indians know exactly how we would have devoured the food, with our own limbic system — emotion, smell and dollops of nostalgia guiding our fingers. What bigger joy can there be than holding your own food in your own hands. A direct connect, and it is never a dainty morsel.

The chuski suck – big kiss on the ice popsicle, the hot- fried Momo bite – only teeth no lip, the noodle slurp – perfect for soupy Maggi noodles not for Hakka egg noodles, the mopping of gravy when roti/rice is over using only your fingers, etc.  are art forms we have perfected. And not to exclude non-vegetarian eating rituals, which succulent, bronzed Tandoori chicken leg be left without a firm grip, and a quick dunk in mint-dahi chutney. The soft touch of the lovely Galaouti kebab that gives as soon as you caress it. The stacking of an onion ring, a seekh kebab and chutney that gives you a taste of a perfect marriage (of flavours).

So while Mukbang draws dedicated fans — people on weight loss diets or lonely souls — living vicariously, back home due to our food rituals of slurping, burping, messy fingers and lip-smacking, there are no actual “stories” or visual feed. We know how a tongue-twisting satisfying, ‘tchaa’ at a Kerala shaap after a swig of toddy is more convincing than an advertising campaign for the beverage, our bright, orange paneer-laced Chinese khaana is better than the real Chinese food. The well-done pasta is a heartier melt than al-dente.

In how we eat, as well, our hearts and hands know that the rotis have to wrap themselves around the sabzi, no spoon can mix rice and gravy together perfectly, and the papad will not sit pretty on a fork.

When it comes our morsels, we are all celebrities.

Sharon Fernandes is a journalist based in Delhi.  

Elon Musk forms several ‘X Holdings’ companies to fund potential Twitter buyout

3 Mins Read

Thursday’s filing dispelled some doubts, though Musk still has work to do. He and his advisers will spend the coming days vetting potential investors for the equity portion of his offer, according to people familiar with the matter

KV Prasad Journo follow politics, process in Parliament and US Congress. Former Congressional APSA-Fulbright Fellow