Serendipity, Saunter and Faux paz

The dawn of the new year Gudi Padwa is the Maharashtrian new year’s day. In the early hours of the morning, the Gudi was set up and worshipped. Just after the regular puja was completed. The gathis (sugar wafers that are threaded together to form a garland) were bought the previous evening. This goes with the neem leaves as part of the gudi but there were extra ones to give to any children who would come and also for anyone who would like to eat them. Once the pooja was complete, the house resounded with Kumar Gandharva’s voice and the cassette we had would play through the morning. There was a lavish meal as usual – either shrikhand – puri or pooran poli along with aluchi paatal bhaji, bhaat, varan, bhaji, koshimbir, chutney, lonchi, papad for the family. In the afternoon there would often be music performances nearby and depending on what the plans for the evening were we would go to listen to some classical music. All the day through friends and family would drop by to seek Aji'...

  (Photo by Doina Gavrilov: https://www.pexels.com/photo/delicate-pink-rose-17637049/ ) Gulkanda As the temperatures soar, the warm, seasonal food that was served through the winter changed. Suddenly, butter milk and lemonade became the go to drinks to keep cool through the day. Curries were made with raw mango. But the most interesting was to eat a spoonful of gulkand in the mornings. At other times of the year, gulkand was an essential ingredient of meetha paan (betel leaf with sweet gulkand filling) but in summers you could eat it everyday to ward off heat related ailments. And it was home made! Our tiny rose garden was our pride. It had about 20 variety of roses including climbers in our small front yard! But the ones that Aji took pride in were tucked away towards the backyard, near the bananas. They were the ‘desi’ or local ones in white, pink and pearl. The pearly one known as motiya in Marathi was particularly pretty! It is a delicate creamy rose with just a hint of pink...

I am writing about Puran poli in the context of Holi because of the popular chant –  Holi re holi, purnachi poli ... Pooran poli is otherwise very important as well. As an offering to the Gods during other festivals and because my Aji made really amazing puranpolis according to everyone! As a kid, I didn’t like them at all. I'm not sure but it must have something to do with grinding all that pooran though I did like eating the puran and while one was grinding it, eating bits of it was totally prohibited. But thinking back and now having developed a liking for them I do prefer the soft ones, stuffed with a lot of pooran  like she made them. And then drizzled with ghee! The soft flavour of nutmeg playing hide and seek with the tastebuds as one took a morsel.  Amongst the festivals purannpoli was made at were Gudi Padva, Navratri – first day and ninth day and just a little bit of pooran on the eight day as well for the aarti. Then we had it for Holi and Gudi Padva and in bet...

Discovering Chicory and Fava Virtual travelling during the pandemic, I kept making lists of what to see and what to do and what to taste on the next real trip. Researching Puglia, looking at various top 10 suggestions, what caught my attention was  ‘chicory and fava.’ A puree of fava beans soaked overnight and chicory leaves. It sounded wholesome and comforting but I had never heard of chicory leaves being eaten before. Chicory! My association with chicory is it's presence in coffee and endless debates about whether coffee is better with it or without it. My grandmother, dressed in her voile saree, sipping from a steaming cup of coffee, standing under the arched doorway that separated the dining room from the kitchen and strongly advocating chicory in coffee in her warm, cultured Maharashtrian manner. Grandmother refused to have coffee that did not contain chicory as according to her it was the chicory that brought out the flavours  of coffee.  The way she said it chi- ko...

Forever roses In addition to beautiful memories some other things travelled back with us from Kashmir.  Among them were the famous papier-mâché pen holder in black with an intricate floral design, a massive carpet that came in a few months later, a kangri (the wicker basket enclosing an earthen pot with coals to keep warm) and a branch of a rose bush. The beautiful cane basket, kangri, soon had a money plant cascading down the side of one of the display shelves, right next to the inner living room door. The pretty leaves, pale green and white contrasted beautifully with the dark polished wood of the cabinet and caught everyone’s attention. But this story is about the rose. As soon as we were back it was planted in the garden right next to the large window with a window box of China roses. It was hoped and indeed talked about that the velya gulab (vine rose) would grow tall and strong and cover the sun-shade of the window and fall over to the other side. This would be reminiscent o...

 The evening lights                                                        (Image created with picsart using a simple text prompt )   Some of our favourite stories that we asked Aji to repeat over and over again were of little Aji and her exploits with her siblings. And one of the stories I remember vividly is the one I narrate here.   To give you some context, there was a lone streetlamp at the end of our lane, by our gate. That was supposed to be enough for the six houses in our lane and unfortunately left dark stretches that one had to navigate. Often, this light would stop working and the electricity department would take a week or so to repair it and then the cycle repeated itself.   Residents from our lane kept the lights in their verandah on at least till around 8 pm making it easier for everyo...

Thinking of how seeds and peels were revered and always formed a part of our diets. The philosophy of food at our place would be encompassed by the lines of grace we said before the meal: Anna hey poorna Brahma – That food is the manifestation of the Absolute  It had to be respected, worshipped, honoured by enjoying it and never wasted! Our Aji would explain that food is supreme because it manages to please all the senses at the same time. Even as it is cooking, the aroma of the food wafts on the air, how it looks on the plate, the feel of the different textures while preparing the meal and when eating, appeasing titillated taste buds, the mild sounds of a slurp of curry or buttermilk, the softest crunch of the papads , and often the crackling of mustard surely heard while cooking but also the sizzle of hot oil poured on a bhakri or khichadi . And she said the sixth sense too because you are what you eat! This philosophy governed what was used for cooking and also how food was se...