There are some dishes we make when there’s nothing in the refrigerator. There are some dishes we make when you have no time at all. There are some dishes we make that are purely comfort food and remind you of home. This dish is all of those things for me………
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Low and slow, is the mantra for a good Curry.
Curry comes in a variety of colors. Cooking is an art, curries are the colors.
Indian Curries are pretty time consuming, especially with the ones that involve meat. The pan or pot that a curry is made in also adds to its complexity. Everything must be slow cooked and sauteed without burning, and the meat almost always is cooked for long periods of time left unattended. For example, a good fish curry would always take a while to make. If it sat overnight before serving, the dish became exquisite the next day. A lamb/goat meat dish prep would start a few hours before lunch time and it was almost on Sundays. Cookers or slow cookers were never used. It cooked long hours leading to a ‘fall of the bone’ tender, flavorful and juicy meat. All these different curries really required a lot of time and love, but were so worth the wait.
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Uncles, Mom and Dad have left for work. It’s just my Amma (grandmom) and I. It’s the peace after the storm.
With no one to order me around, tease me, or make me bring things, I very quietly walk to the balcony and hold the railings with my two tiny little hands and start my favorite pastime. Watching people. A variety of people with a myriad of emotions: preoccupied looks, busy smiles, the nervous laughter, all for different reasons. They all were in a rush to get somewhere. I was plain amazed by that. I looked at their clothes, their make up and everything. I remember one day asking my grandmom, pointing to a lovely looking girl: “She looks so pretty ma, will I ever be as beautiful as her?” To that she responded, “You, my dear, are much prettier than her and without all that makeup!” That made me feel good then. My ego booster, my Grandmom.
We sit chatting for a bit…..Until we hear the sounds of the guy we were waiting for….
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She comes home and finds an empty container, which, only a couple of hours ago, had the very best tangy-spicy, oily, fried taro.
A year is a long time to be away when you’ve stayed with someone for 21 years. A trip to India after I came to US was an in-explainable feeling, and an exciting one. There were a lot of things I wanted to enjoy, first being the food. All the things I was overwhelmed to cook or plain didn’t know how to cook were the things I asked mom to make. Sometimes we just have a mind block, don’t you think? You believe it’s hard to cook something, just because. This was one of those things….
As I stood massaging the cabbage with copious amounts of salt for the Kimchi, my thoughts drifted to a place where I spent a lot of my early school days.
Right in the middle of a very busy market street, a road with the honks of scooters and auto rickshaws and the bells of the cyclists, kids playing marbles on the side of the roads was a norm. There were so many stray dogs and cows walking like they owned the roads. The homes were all quite tightly packed, and a lot of them were built in the early 19oo’s. Made of brick and wooden roofs, rough walls, and carved wooden doors with so many subtle nuances was my Maternal Grandparents’ home, famously known as “Ayya’s home.”
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Chicken Pakora/fritters is an amazing appetizer and perfect party entertainer. It’s best made using boneless chicken and chickpea flour/besan. 
We are thoroughly spoiled by where we live. Right in the middle of the bay, there are farmer’s markets every week, people with light casual clothes all year around. There are strawberry picking, the cherry festival, the peach trees, and garage sales which will close down the streets. Apple orchards filled with the most delicious ones to pick, tangerines and oranges everywhere. We are greedy every season and try to hold on to the harvest preserving it bottle by bottle. When there are snow and storms everywhere, we are trying to preserve the water because of the dry weather. Craving for exotic food, we have options: we can either make them because the international grocery stores carry everything and the restaurants here are amazing. There are mountains to one side and sea to the other. Ski resorts are a couple of hours north and Disneyland a few more to the south.
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Eggplant is a love or hate kind of a vegetable. Most of our household belong to the latter. A reason that this is my first eggplant dish on the blog:). In the words of one of my friend, ‘this is a curry even a non-eggplant lover would enjoy’.
It’s just that growing up I was never fond of aubergines/eggplant and dad would sit next to me for hours staring and waiting for me to take a small bite. Time would go by slower than normal..tic toc tic toc. I didn’t give up, I didn’t eat. He gave up..poor dad. Although not a big fan then, now I am. I have found a formula that I love. Just that now, hubby will eat a burnt toast but not eggplant and he is the most non fussiest person I know. Oh well…to our post.
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Why measure when you have your taste buds, right?!
As long as I can remember, my grandma and mom never measured anything in their cooking. There would be huge family gatherings and lots of food. Just watching grandmom(Amma) cook with a pinch of this, a teaspoon of that, tasting every now and then was pure joy. Despite all the chaos I would be called to taste and see if it was OK. Let’s just say, it wasn’t just O.K, it was all so perfect. Maybe because of their inconsistency in how they cooked and got it right always, inspired me to see what cooking was all about.
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Being a foodie has always made me think in one perspective, the sensual experience of eating is all in the head. I’ve always felt garlic is a package of surprises. You can use it in every possible innovative way, and there’s a new surprise each time. Now let’s hold onto this thought for a while…
Our bags packed and we are ready to get this thing going. We drove four hours to this beautiful site with winding roads. We reached our destination and were able to stretch our legs a little. Tall redwood trees, green and white tents, sounds of birds chirping invited us. It was hot, but we felt cool under the shade of the tightly packed trees. The tall trees towering above called us in a way with their outstretched branches. The warm sunlight streaming in was definitely inviting. We parked our cars and decided to poke around some more. Little did I know, I’d see the shadow of a bear that night…
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