In An Instant, Pickle & Fiction Both

Aunty and her friend were chatting in the back garden, the long lines of drying clothes ensuring they couldn’t be observed very well from inside the house. The niece came out and called to them. Aunty’s brow furrowed in irritation but when she separated a skirt and a sari and peered through them, her gaze softened - her niece had come bearing a plate of green mangoes along with a knife for them to enjoy.

The mangoes had been downed from the tree just a couple of hours earlier with a tall stick to which a hook was attached. The backyard was home to several trees - mango, gooseberry, coconut, sapota/chikoo and banana. Ammamma would get the mangoes and gooseberry plucked and pickle them, pickling day being an event to remember. And even though the pickle would mature only after a few days, a little bowl of it, pungent and somewhat bitter with unmellowed mustard and fenugreek, would always be scooped out into a gleaming steel dish and set on the table with some homemade butter to be enjoyed with some soft and steaming hot rice.

“Oh, why did you bring the knife? You could have hurt yourself!” said Aunty.

“No, Aunty, Ammamma said it wouldn’t hurt because the knife is on the plate and I’m holding it properly. Eat the mangoes.”

“But she forgot the chilli powder and the salt, go, get us some, will you?”

“Ok, Aunty!” said Niece and bounded back into the house.

Aunty began cutting and slicing the mangoes. Funny, she and her friend are wearing saris with a paisley motif. Nice coincidence, that!

Friend and Aunty continued to converse, about History classes, exams and the merits of an MA versus a B. Ed. What could be taking Niece so long? “Sra …!” she called. There was no answer, but she could see her mother moving about in the bedroom facing the backyard. After a while, she called again, exasperated. Ten minutes had passed, and no sign of Niece. What on earth could she have got up to? Resigned, she prepared to walk inside and look for Niece, and get the salt and chilli powder herself, when Niece came out.

“Aunty, here’s the chilli powder and salt.”

“Why did you take so long?”

“Ammamma went in for a bath, and she told me where to look for them in the storeroom.”

“Oh, ok! No, don’t go away, sit and chat with us …”

Aunty smeared the chilli powder and salt on to three slices of mango, handed her friend one and took another herself. Niece refused.

The next moment, an odd look crossed the faces of the adults, and they yelped. And spit out the precious, homegrown mango. Because what the beloved niece had fetched was not red chilli powder, but kumkum.

I knew what my next post was about, but not how it would be written. When Bong Mom mailed me this evening suggesting I also try my hand at Food Fiction, I responded enthusiastically, little knowing inspiration would be in low supply. But determination overtook that weakness and I’ve dipped my toe in the water. Like Sandeepa’s, only a part of this is fiction. The mangoes, red chilli powder and salt are not.


Here’s a recipe for an instant mango pickle. It’s an old, old favourite, one I've tried my hand at, but better guidance came from here, and happily, tasted just like the one made by grandmoms and great aunts.

Raw mango, chopped unpeeled: 4 cups
Red chilli powder: 4 tsp
Salt: 4 tsp
Roasted fenugreek powder: 1 ½ tbsp
Gingelly oil: 8 tsp
Mustard seeds: 2 tsp
Garlic: 5-6 cloves, peeled, bruised

Marinate the mango pieces with a tsp of oil, the chilli powder and salt for 30 minutes.

After 30 minutes, add the fenugreek powder to the marinated mango and mix again.

Heat the rest of the oil and pop the mustard. Add the garlic and let fry till it’s sated with oil. Cool a little and add it to the mango. Mix well and cover.

I know it’s supposed to keep for a few days but I’d rather store it in the fridge as I’m no expert in pickling. I just know enough to tell you that everything used during preparation, mangoes, hands, vessels all, should be squeaky clean and squeaky dry.

Mango pickle Mango chutney Food fiction Humour Nostalgia

The Story of My Mango Fish Curry

On Sunday we ran away from home.

The voltage fluctuations got the better of our air-conditioner, stabiliser notwithstanding, and just the thought of spending most of the day at home had us hot and bothered. Our flight took us to various destinations, all of which had air-conditioning - a visit to The Spouse's colleague and then his office, a good one hour away, to finish a pending job; lunch at a new restaurant on the way back; vegetable shopping and then, back home, by which time it was late afternoon. Two hours later, we showered for what seemed like the third or fourth time in the day, and went fish shopping, followed by aimless wandering in various air-conditioned stores in the vicinity and finally to a restaurant where the inordinate delay in service did not bother us much as we were enjoying the cool interiors.

I had bought a green mango to cook with dal. However, I used only a little of it for the dal. Most of it was left over, and the memory of a rich red and green fish-and-mango curry supplied by some friendly neighbours many years ago floated into my mind. I did not have a recipe, however, and surfing the Net or my numerous cookery books did not yield a satisfactory recipe, so I came up with a hotch-potch of several.

Where's the mango in the picture? The thin, curved sliver in the centre, which looks like it could be anything else, is it. I had peeled the mango for the dal, but there's no need to peel it for this recipe.

Here's how it goes:

Fish (I used barracuda): 10 small pieces, cleaned
Green mango: 200 gm, sliced, discard the seed (Need not be peeled)
Onions: 2, chopped
Tomato: 1, chopped
Salt: To taste
Turmeric: A pinch
Red chilli powder: 1 tsp

I had this ground masala (below) ready, I used two spoons of it
Fennel seeds: 3tsp
Black peppercorns: 8-10
Cinnamon: 1 inch stick
Cloves: 4
Cardamom: 4
Bay Leaves: 3

Amchur/Dried mango powder: 1 tbsp

Water: Some

Tempering
Curry leaves: 1/2 a cup
Mustard, black gram, fenugreek, fennel: 1/4 tsp each
Oil: 1 tbsp

Heat the oil and temper with the mustard, black gram, fenugreek and fennel.

Add the onions, tomatoes and curry leaves. Fry for a while and add the masala powder.

Fry this on low heat for 15 minutes, then add the mango slices, amchur, chilli powder, salt and turmeric along with less than one cup of water. Boil for about 10 minutes.

Add the fish and let it boil again till the fish is cooked and the gravy is thick.

Fish/seafood Amchur/Dried Mango Powder Curry Summer Humour

Of Blogging, Breaking and Summer Bounty

I’ve been on an impromptu blogging break for quite a while now. Contrary to most others, this break has done nothing for my blog or writing/cooking skills (not that it was intended to) and further, seems to have diminished my photography skills. The ennui that has enveloped my blog life threatens to become permanent, if not for the fact that I’ve begun to miss blogging, despite not knowing what to write about. My friend V, of late a blogger herself, who misses my posts and messages me whenever she feels I've gone too long without a new one, tells me she can be my reminder service for a small fee!

I’ve always wondered what it’s like to go on a blog break, though. I’ve been obsessed with the blog ever since I set it up nearly two years ago and always looked upon those who took long breaks with a mixture of curiosity, awe and jealousy. Yes, jealous because they seemed to be able to get away from their blogs, not miss them and I couldn’t see myself doing that, which, as I knew somewhere, was somewhat unhealthy, as obsessions are. The only time I don’t miss my blog nowadays is when I’m indulging in my other obsession - travel - and that, alas, is not as frequent an occurrence as I would like it to be.

As it turns out, the only way to beat one mania is to develop yet another (or two, or three) - and that’s precisely how I came to stay away from blogging.
One of the last posts I read before I slipped away from the blogs was Jugalbandi’s Click for Bri. While my photo’s nothing to write to them about and I won’t be posting any recipes for the dishes in them (except maybe the dosakaya chutney), I did want to participate in the cause. Here’s what you can do to help Bri and here's wishing Bri a speedy recovery.

Sunday Meal is my entry for Click. It was my meal this past Sunday and features some traditional favorites in the parts I come from.

Clockwise from left: Dosakaya (melon cucumber) chutney, mudda pappu (plain, boiled toor dal with a bit of salt) and mamidikaya pulusu (mango in tamarind gravy with some jaggery). The dal and the gravy are good eaten together with rice and some ghee, if you like, or the dal can be mixed with rice, ghee and some mango pickle for yet another traditional combination.

Here is some summer bounty - pix taken on a road trip to and from home!

Palm fruit (taatikaayalu) and pot full of toddy (kallu). The mugs are probably what the toddy's served in!!!

The contents of the palm fruit are a favourite summer delight! Called taati munjalu, they are sadly missing in cities, or if they're available, they come all torn, crushed and wrapped in plastic. Supermarket-compatible, totally unappetising!

This is yet another gift of summer that I'm yet to see outside Andhra Pradesh. These are called kobbari mamidikaya (literally translates as coconut mango, probably because of the size) and are a great snack, sweet and sour even though they're green! Come to think of it, I'm yet to see one go ripe yellow, either on the outside or the inside. Each fruit cost Rs 25.

Blogging Blog breaks Bri Click for Bri Toddy palm fruit/Taatikayalu/taatimunjalu Toddy/Kallu