whose food we eat, their song we sing

Indira of Mahanandi – a blogger who has inspired so many people to cook, to blog, and continues to do so with her penchant for perfection. Her passion for what she does is evident in every post at her site. Beautiful pics, clean layout, detailed index and awesome recipes – a visual treat indeed.

A search for an Upma recipe took me once again to her site. The recipe looked simply delicious, rather, simple and delicious. My mother had got me some freshly made bajra flour from Rajasthan last week. A quick call to my daughter who was on her way home got me the sprouts from Nilgiris. She was amused at my excitement and sauted the onions while I did the the rotis. Within no time, the Bajra roti Upma was ready. Manas took a quick picture and here it is. Thank you dearest Indira, you rock!

Here is the link to this recipe; I added some julienned carrots and powdered fennel since both were at the kitchen counter while I was cooking .

Posted by Pratibha

n 1997, when I moved to 63, Eldams road, Chennai, the first neighbour I met, introduced herself to me as a writer. That immediately drew my attention. In the months to come, I began to share in Meera’s excitement and avidly read whenever she was published. I enjoyed reading her articles, written in her easy, light-hearted style. As mentioned on her blog – “Qualified in Journalism and Public Relations, she is a prolific writer and has published more than 1500 articles in the genre of features ( including features on offbeat topics), interviews, humorous essays, travelogues, children’s stories, book reviews etc. in mainstream newspapers and magazines like The Hindu, Indian Express, Femina, Eve’s Weekly, Woman’s Era, Alive, Eve’s Touch, Ability Foundation etc.”

(Meera’s book launch at Landmark)

As I interacted with Meera, I came to like her immensely for various reasons – her pleasing smile, her ease as a home-maker, her sponatneous affection, her joy at whatever she accomplished. But what captured my attention most was her relationship with her mother-in-law. They were a perfect pair. Their comfort with each other was a lesson in human relationships. Meera called her ‘Aunty’, so I came to call her by the same name.

All of us have seen people meditate in silent corners with eyes closed. It is an inspiring sight no doubt. But after meeting Aunty, my notion of meditation shifted. Most of the times, she would sit by her window on an easy chair with a cloth in one hand and a needle and thread in the other. My strongest memory of her is that serene, peaceful expression she held while she embroidered away. After meeting her, the word that always springs to my mind in connection with embroidery is – ananda, bliss!

It came as no surprise to see Meera’s first book’s first chapter dedicated to her mother-in-law. Titled as Madras Mosaic, its light-hearted, humorous style makes it a book one can read anytime, anywhere.

I met Meera recently after a long gap of time, and as we got chatting, it was but natural for me to ask her for a tribute recipe. So here it is, Meera’s tribute to her mother-in-law. We are glad to feature their beautiful affection in this space where we remember our own serene-faced Pedatha all the time.

TRIBUTE TO MY MOTHER-IN-LAW, SMT. AHALYA BAI (1915-2003)

By Meera Raghavendra Rao

Born into an aristocratic family, my mother-in-law studied in a convent School. Being the only girl child, with two younger brothers, she had a pampered childhood. Yet when at the young age of 15, she was married to Shri Nandagiri Rama Rao, a chartered accountant, she soon settled well into her new, large family. Despite having a handicapped first born, she was never one to moan her fate or make others in the family miserable.

(Meera as a young bride seated next to her mother-in-law)

From the very day I entered my husband’s family as a young bride, I felt a part of it as my mother-in-law enveloped me into her fold more like a grand daughter (she used to plat my hair everyday), than a daughter-in-law. We truly shared an excellent rapport.

A good Samaritan at heart, she always placed others’ interests before her own and went out of her way to extend help to those who needed it.

When we had get-togethers at our house, she would enthusiastically become scorer for the games organized, ready with a pencil and pad to write the scores of participants.

Among relatives she was addressed as Ahalya Akka, and her friends called her Ahalya Maami. I used to call her aunty. She welcomed all those who came home with a warm smile and would never let them leave without accepting her hospitality. Above all, she had a soft corner for the poor and believed in parting with whatever she could to make their lives a little easier and bring a smile on their lips.

She loved sweets so much that sometimes she would even make a meal of payasam and laddus. But when my father-in-law passed away (she was in her late sixties then) she gave up eating those very sweets which were so dear to her. When asked about it she would say it was a very small sacrifice she was making as a tribute to my father-in-law, with whom she had shared her life for more than five decades.

She wore only Madurai Sungadi sarees and patronized Rangachari Store on Luz Church Road.

She was very good at sewing, especially smocking and kutch work  besides embroidery. She would gift smocked frocks to newborns and hand-embroidered bedspreads and smocked night-wear to newlyweds. A number of ladies, half her age would learn the art from her and her handwork was often displayed at various exhibitions.

Her culinary prowess was remarkable, her specialties being cashew nut cakes, and wheat halwa among sweets and bisi-bela-huli-anna (a dish of Karnataka) and stuffed brinjals.

When she passed away at 88, six years ago, she left a great void in my life (having lived with her for 33 years). I felt I had suddenly aged by 20 years. I am happy to share one of her favourite recipes here in this wonderful space for tributes.

STUFFED BRINJALS

Brinjals, small-sized (light green or purple variety) – 250 gms

For the stuffing:

Chana dal—3 tablespoons

Urad dal—1 tablespoon

A small piece of hing (the hard variety)

Red chillies – 5-6

Dry coconut – 1 tablespoon, grated

Coriander leaves – 1 tablespoon, washed and chopped fine

Gingely oil – 1 tablespoon

Salt to taste

1) Dry roast the above ingredients for the stuffing and grind into a coarse powder. Mix 2 teaspoons of oil into this mixture to bind it.

2) Remove the stalks of the brinjals and make criss-cross slits from the top. Wash the brinjals and immediately stuff the mixture through the slits.

3) Shallow fry the stuffed brinjals in gingely oil, tossing them occasionally. When the brinjals have cooked well, take off the flame.

4) Alternatively, you can steam them for 5 minutes and then shallow fry them in oil.

5) If any of the mixture for the stuffing is remaining, sprinkle them over the cooked brinjals.

Serve with rotis or as a side-dish in a meal.

INTRODUCTION BY PRATIBHA, TRIBUTE BY MEERA RAO

When passion and diligence combine, perfection becomes a natural boon…it is then that great works are created. “Grains, Greens and Grated coconuts” by our good friend Ammini Ramachandran, is one such boon to the world of cookbooks.

It is much more than a cookbook, its pages filled with knowledge of history, festivals and traditions, food ingredients and wisdom handed down through generations. It is a book replete with recipes that remain true to traditional home-style cooking, capturing tastes that satiate the palate and senses too.

It was but natural that we asked her for a tribute recipe for this blog. In her typical friendly and prompt manner, she emailed us this wonderful post which we are delighted to bring to you. Thank you Ammini for this lovely post, for digging out these black and white photographs (we simply love them!) and for your warm friendship – yet another boon of this virtual space.

AMMA’S ELLUKARI BY AMMINI RAMACHANDRAN

A TRIBUTE TO MY MOTHER-IN-LAW PADMAM VARMA

As a young bride I was in awe of my mother-in-law’s kitchen. Amma was a stickler for cleanliness and orderliness. Her kitchen was a spacious and spotlessly clean special place with wood-burning stoves and wooden racks filled with ceramic jars and pots made of copper, bronze, and soapstone.

Some of the dishes in Amma’s kitchen came from the same tradition I had grown up with; others used familiar ingredients but expressed them with an accent new to me. Amma passed away at a young age. The secret to the flavor of her food was not in any special ingredients she used, but it was in the loving way she prepared them for her family.  Although she had a cook, often she used to make this curry just before we all sat down to eat, and it would always be the best among the many dishes served. This thick curry of green plantains with the distinct fragrance of black sesame seeds, toasted coconut, and curry leaves reminds me most vividly of her simple style of cooking. It is a mildly hot curry, with a hint of sourness and sweetness at the same time.

(From the family album – yes, that beautiful lady at the back is Ammini!)

Every time I prepare this dish in American kitchen my mind wanders off to a different place and time, to a kitchen filled with the fragrance of toasted sesame seeds and coconut and the aroma emanating from a wood burning stove. It is incredible that one specific dish can evoke so many memories. I am delighted to share her recipe with you all, through this blog hosted by my dear friends Jigyasa and Pratibha.

(Amma with her Sisters)

ELLUKARI

Sweet, sour, and mildly spiced, Ellukari symbolizes Madapilli cuisine at its best. The toasted coconut and sesame seeds impart a nutty flavor, while tamarind and jaggery contribute sweet and sour contrasts. Ellukari is traditionally prepared with either plantains as called for here, or suran, but even potatoes may be substituted in a pinch.

1 firm green (unripe) plantain, peeled and cubed
Salt to taste
½ teaspoon turmeric powder
1½ teaspoons vegetable oil
1½ tablespoons urad dal
½ cup grated fresh coconut or dried coconut flakes
1½ tablespoons black or brown sesame seeds
5 dried red cayenne, serrano, or Thai chilies (less for a milder taste)
11/2 teaspoons tamarind pulp or 1 teaspoon tamarind concentrate

For seasoning and garnish:
1 tablespoon vegetable oil
½ teaspoon mustard seeds
1 dried red cayenne, serrano, or Thai chili pepper, halved
¼ teaspoon asafetida powder
12 to 15 fresh curry leaves
2 tablespoons crushed jaggery

Place the plantain, salt, and turmeric in a heavy pot over medium heat, and add just enough water to cover it. Cook for six to eight minutes, or until plantain is fork tender.

Heat one and a half teaspoons of oil over medium heat in a heavy skillet. Add the urad dal, and keep stirring until it begins to turn light brown. Add the coconut, and stir until it starts to turn golden brown. Add the sesame seeds and red chilies, and stir for another two to three minutes more. (The sesame seeds will start popping.) Remove the pan from the heat, and let the mixture cool to room temperature. In a blender, grind the spice mix with just enough water to make a fairly smooth, thick puree. Stir the puree into the cooked plantain. Dissolve the tamarind concentrate in a cup of water, add it to the pot, and cook over medium-low heat for six to eight minutes, until the mixture is fairly thick.

Heat the oil in a heavy skillet over medium heat, and add the mustard seeds. When the mustard seeds start sputtering, add the halved red chili pepper, asafetida, and curry leaves to the oil. Remove the skillet, and pour the seasoning into the curry. Add the jaggery, and mix well. Cover and set aside for ten minutes, to allow the flavors to blend.

Tribute Recipe by AMMINI RAMACHANDRAN, Introduction by PRITYA

We were first introduced to Mark Antrobus by Padmini Mani, the Managing Trustee of My School Satya Surabhi in Kodaikanal, of which we are trustees too. Padmini Aunty said, “This is Mark, my most remarkable friend – generous, bright and friend to all.”

There are so many qualities that make our friend Mark Antrobus likeable. His keen intelligence, his deep spirituality, his philanthropic tendencies, his calm acceptance of whatever life may offer, his passion for knowledge, his thoroughness in whatever he does, for instance, his research into the etymology of Dravidian languages…and of course, his very handsome features. But to us, above all, what simply bowls us over is his relationship with his mom, Grace. Bubbly, super-intelligent, humourous absolutely stunning ‘English mem’ – that’s Grace in a nutshell.

When we met Grace at hundred, the question that Pratibha’s philosophical mind came up with was – “Grace, you have seen life in all its hues – you have been through world wars, separations, love, loss…everything. So what is it that matters most? Wealth, love, relationships, comfort, knowledge – what? “

Can we ever forget that wistful look in Grace’s eyes which turned to sharp clarity as she said, “To know that you have a mind and that it works.” Thank you Grace, for that wisdom which transcends knowledge and time.

Is it devotion, is it duty, is it gratitude, is it simple maternal bonding…..it is difficult to pin down a word to describe what one perceives when one sees mother and son together. All we can say that its always such a pleasure to see them together. There is no burden of duty there, neither the overpowering nature of devotion. Perhaps, what we really want to say is that when we see them, we just see love, an uncomplicated childlike love.

When we told Mark that we would like to pay a tribute to Grace on her 101st birthday, he immediately took the initiative, and with his natural, calm efficiency this is what he shared with us. The pictures taken by his friend Dr Vivek. M speak for themselves.

MARK ANTROBUS SAYS:

I invented this with the huge disks of Swedish Rye you get in US, but it works for any toast.

My name is Mark Antrobus, Grace Wardell is my mother; born in 1908, she recently celebrated her 101st birthday and is now “running” 102 years, as we say in Tamil Nadu. She has led a very active life undergoing the Blitz of London during the Second World War as the first woman Features Editor of a national newspaper, The London Daily Express.

I came to India in 1967 at the age of twenty one and would have come earlier if it were possible. My own association with India was a spiritual one with a love of the local traditions, philosophy, language, and people. I was given the name Govind. After the tragic death of my stepfather in a 1969 road accident in the U.K. my mother Grace followed me out to India settling in Kodaikanal while I lived in ashrams and villages in the plains. We used to see each other quite often while living our separate lives.

She continued to live here while I went back to the west. After some years I returned to India and I have been looking after her ever since. She loves India but cannot handle spicy food. Grace likes strong flavours, however, and the following recipe–based on the Italian pizza–I came up with as a tease to her palate.

INGREDIENTS:

Fairly thin toast, brown bread or Swedish Rye Crackers (knoc- brot) if available.

Eggless Mayonnaise.

Blanched tomatoes, peeled (Grace does not like tomato skins) sliced into thin wheels.

Thyme, dried, if fresh: finely chopped.

Fresh basil if available: chopped.

A few olives, if available, sliced.

Anything else you’d put in a pizza, like a few drops of olive oil.

Crushed garlic.

A few crystals of salt.

A few thin slices of raw onion.

Chilli seed (except for Grace).

Cheese, fresh, grated.

Also some Parmesan if available.

The basics are mayonnaise, fresh tomato and cheese, the rest is variable, according to taste. The trick I discovered is the mayonnaise; it prevents the tomatoes from getting the toast or rye crackers soggy. Pre-toast the bread or rye crackers lightly. Spread the mayonnaise covering evenly right to the edges. Place the tomato slices to cover the mayonnaise. Sprinkle a few olive slices, thyme, fresh basil, a few crystals of ground rock salt over the tomatoes, a few drops of olive oil, even thinly grated lemon peel, chilli seeds, smashed fennel seed, etc., as to your imagination and preference.

Grate fresh cheese over the tomato to cover generously and sprinkle in some Parmesan for piquancy. Place in an overhead grill until the cheese melts. Try not to burn the bottom of the toast. If you do not have an electric grill you can also heat a frying pan and place a mud pot lid over it, after heating up the lid and turning off the gas flame, lift the lid and place in the toast. This ambient heat is enough to melt the cheese.

A note on blanched tomatoes. Immerse ripe tomatoes in boiling water for a few seconds. Retrieve them before they cook and allow them to rest on a plate enough for the skins to split. Peel skins making sure to also gouge out the top stem receptacle. Slice into wheels in a plate, leaving behind the juices.

Govind’s Pizza Toast makes a great snack for a party, can be pre-prepared, and kept in fridge, or even eaten cold after the event, but best fresh hot out of the grill.

Tribute Recipe by MARK ANTROBUS, Introduction by JIGYASA

Photographs by VIVEK. M, Bangalore