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Mixing food, memory and desire
April 12, 2007 | 29 Comments
There are cookbooks, and there are books about food. Both have their uses. Cookbooks are instructive, and illustrate the mechanics of reproducing a recipe. Fortunately, in the internet age, we can access practically any recipe with the click of a mouse. Shelf space in our home is at a premium, and we’ve started donating our cookbooks (after photocopying useful pages) to make way for books about food.
The latter combine recipes with stories. They tease out the bonds and memories associated with flavours and aromas. They talk about the history, traditions and folklore encapsulated in an ingredient or dish. To the authors of these books, a recipe, like a family tree, is a means to trace their roots.
The latest addition to our collection is Grains, Greens and Grated Coconuts. Recipes and Remembrances of a Vegetarian Legacy by Ammini Ramachandran. It does all of the above. In addition, it is a serious academic work. It gives a very detailed ethnographic account of the culture and social context from which the tradition of vegetarian cuisine in Kerala emerged.
Ammini Ramchandran. Pic from hub-uk. More about her here. 
This book’s value as a cookbook has been assessed in other forums by those with a deep understanding of Indian regional cuisines. See, for instance, Suvir Saran’s foreward to the book (read it here). There’s Veena Parrikar’s incisive review at Mahanandi discussing the value of this collection of authentic Kerala recipes in the Indian culinary context. That alone is a remarkable contribution, because there are so few cookbooks that do justice to this very unique and sophisticated culinary tradition emerging from what was once considered the spice capital of the world.
The most compelling testimonial, however, comes from Indian Food Rocks, where Manisha has recreated the Okra Kichadi , Thakkali (Tomato) Chutney and Paal Paayasam from the book with such patience and panache.
Das Sreedharan’s Fresh Flavours of India does a remarkable and visually stimulating job of listing some of his favourite home and restaurant recipes from Kerala.
However, Ammini Ramachandran goes a step further. She catalogues and describes dishes that are hardly known outside specific homes and regions in Kerala – recipes that are not available with the click of a mouse. Dishes like koova varattiyathu (arrowroot pudding), thiruvathira puzukku and thirattipittu are traditonally prepared only once a year, to commemorate festivals or rituals that are on their way to extinction, taking their culinary associations with them.
I find great pleasure and solace in knowing that I have exact measurements for my favourite recipes, unlike instructions on the phone from my sweet Ammayee (aunt), whose oral guidelines are replete with “a bit of ginger” and “a handful of coconut”. Moreover, Ammini Ramachandran makes the recipes very accessible to an international audience by suggesting substitutes for ingredients that are hard to find outside Kerala.
As someone with the penchant to question something to within an inch of its life, I tend to approach every book on food with one fundamental query:
What is it about this food that helps me understand a specific culture? Man (and woman) needs food to survive, as in carbs, proteins and fats. The unique customs, beliefs, utensils, stories and codes associated with cooking and eating, on the other hand, are not central to species survival. These are choices and that is where culture, history and geography make an appearance. What is it about a dish or meal that makes it uniquely “Hawaiian” or “Assamese”?
Unfortunately, not many books on food have the answers – to satisfy me, atleast.
This book highlights the linkages between food and culture. It treats food both as a construct of culture, as well as a metaphor for it. The author does it by building a perspective that integrates an insider’s and outsider’s point of view. Ammini Ramachandran is uniquely positioned to do this – as a Keralite, as a Nair, as a woman, as a member of the royal family of Kochi, and as someone who has lived in the United States for the past 30 years.
She has a very long and impressive resume as a financial analyst and food writer, and RP has outlined it here. “I learnt every recipe in this book from the generous and ingenious cooks of my home state, ” she states.
Food and eating are almost a full-time occupation, and have played a major role in Kerala’s history and politics. Hemmed in on the west by the Sahyadri ranges, the people of the Malabar coast have always looked seaward. The book describes in detail how the maritime trade route attracted Arabian, Syrian Christian and Jewish settlers. She catalogues Kerala’s rich agrarian tradition, and how Vasco da Gama’s arrival in 1498 “for Christ and spices” changed history – first of Kerala, and then of the whole subcontinent through trade with the West, and eventual colonisation.
We learn that the cheena chatti – the Keralite wok – is of Chinese origin, as the name suggests, while common Malayalam words like mesa (table), naranga (citrus fruits) and karayamboo (clove) come from Portuguese.
After reading this book, one cannot help but approach any Indian dish without thinking of how chilli peppers, cashew nuts, papayas, tomatoes, tea, coffee, pineapples, potatoes and breadfruit entered our dishes, and how far they have travelled from lands yonder.
This knowledge makes you look at food in a new light, and serves as a dating device. Chakka madhura curry (sweet jackfruit curry) – a recipe she unearthed by translating the Sangha Kali songs that date back almost a thousand years – has none of these imported ingredients. It makes one wonder how life was for our ancestors, without chillies, potatoes, tea or tomatoes, and of how changes in food habits are a good barometer of social, economic and political upheavals. It makes one speculate about the original form of rasam which must have been made of lentils and black pepper, without tomatoes – the dish from which mulligatawny got its name. While Kerala is the pepper capital of the world, black pepper is used in only selected Kerala dishes, perhaps because it was so valuable as a trading commodity.
The book is primarily a memoir of growing up in a Nair homestead (tharavad) of 21 members, belonging to the royal family of Kochi. Royalty has always been a motivating force for culinary inventiveness, particularly in Kerala, where the main royal families (kovilakams) were the initial points of contact with foreign traders and emissaries.
A Nair girl decked up for Thirandu Kalyanam – the festivities marking the attaining of puberty.
Nairs are the hereditary military aristocracy of Kerala – equivalent to the Samurais of Japan. They are known for their unique matriarchal system. Kinship and descent are traced through the maternal line, and the birth of a girl child is a cause for great celebration. The Nair tradition has given rise to unique rituals like Thiruvathira and Thirandu Kalyanam.
They celebrate the woman, herald her coming of age, and embrace her as part of the Nair sisterhood. Thiruvathira involves ‘fasting’, which simply means eating a whole spread of special foods without rice. Any meal without rice in Kerala is considered incomplete. These festival dishes are more than recipes. Cultural events are often defined by the foods consumed. Rice, in this culture, is a word laden with meaning. There are a more than half a dozen words used to denote rice in various forms, raw and cooked, and ‘choru’, which means ‘plain cooked rice’ also is used to denote ‘real food’. Rice is also used to denote normative cultural values, with words such as ‘kanji’ being associated with ‘comfort food’.
Signature family recipes like the mango pickles and ellukari (sesame seed curry), the strict order in which the food is served, the protocol observed while eating, etc. distinguish one homestead from the other. It also unites the family. This culinary tradition is a deep emotional bond that reminds everyone at home what it means to be a member of this family.
This book also captures the busy royal kitchen which had its own gentle cadences that were comforting in their predicatability. All food-related activities were in sync with nature and the seasons.
“Often during summer afternoons, our maidservants Muttayi and Eennasu would pound chilies and other ingredients to be used for pickling. Muttayi would first fill the cavity of the ural (large mortar) with whole chilies. Each woman would then pick up an ulakka (pestle), and together they would start pulverizing the chilies. When Muttayi’s pole went in, Eennasu’s went up in the air, the two of them working in a synchronized motion that was fascinating to watch.”
Like an heirloom recipe, this book bridges time and generations. It shows us how, when we recollect what we had for a meal, – however prosaic it may appear – we are actually trying to tailor it into the understanding of who we are.
The consumption of food is part of the everyday pulse, and is linked to everything else in life and the mind. That’s what lends this food memoir its unique appeal.
I could amost hear my mother telling me some of these stories from her own childhood. Like Ammini Ramachandran, she was a Nair woman from a royal household. Her grandfather was the Zamorin of Calicut.
This book has a unique resonance for me, as it also outlines my own family history. A line on page 32 jumped out at me. It said,
“The King of Kochi was waiting for an opportunity to overthrow the hegemony of the Samoothiri, and he welcomed the Portuguese to his shores wholeheartedly.”
What had my Samoothiri ancestor (the Zamorin of Calicut) been up to? It took Wikipedia to inform me that “the war between Calicut and Cochin began on 1 March 1503,” and the hostilities carried on for more than 250 years.
The fates of our two families are intertwined, and continue to be. Today, the two tharavads are linked by marriage, warmth, friendship, and a shared heritage.
This memoir helped me understand some aspects of my own family’s traditions that I had wondered about. Most Nair families consume fish and meat, though they have a predominantly vegetarian diet. My mother’s tharavad – like the royal family of Kochi – was strict vegetarian. This, we learn, is because the royal families of Kerala had close ties with Namboodiri Brahmins over several generations, often through marriage, and therefore chose to be vegetarian.
This book has a lot to offer me.
It also has a lot to offer those who do not identify with Kerala, its heritage or its culture. It will take you through a splendid culinary journey “which combines the heartiness of spices, the interplay of sweet and acidic tates, and the fiery heat of chillies.” It does it without playing to the gallery, and with an endearing directness that leads you into the author’s world.
The book begins with the words, “Morning begins before sunrise in India”, and takes you through the days and seasons in the kovilakam, and the royal kitchen, which was at the heart of it all. Nothing is taken for granted and step by step instructions accompany every process from cooking rice to breaking a coconut.
Sunday is Vishu, Kerala’s festival marking the new astrological year. The ten days after Vishu are considered ideal for sowing the seeds for the next rice harvest. On Vishu day, the farmers clean their implements and propitiate the earth goddess. Vishu, to me, growing up in Bombay, involved the tradition of kani kanal, and a menu that replicated the rich and heavy ona sadya .
From this book one gets a glimpse of the simplicity and symbolism surrounding Vishu in the days of yore.
In the Kochi royal household, the meal was austere, yet delectable. It consisted of Vishu kanji, green jackfruit curry, and pappadam.
Vishu Kanji (page 297), Green Jackfruit Puzukku (page 141), Green Mango Pickle (page 183) (recipes from Grains, Greens and Grated Coconuts) and Pappadam
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Vishu Kanji
A special rice soup served only once a year – on April 14, to commemorate the Vishu festival.
This year Vishu falls on April 15. This happens every 12 years, as per the lunar calendar.
Both long-grain and parboiled rices are used, along with puliavarakka, a flat tart bean that lends a bite to this dish. Fresh/frozen lima beans are an acceptable susbstitute, the book tells us, and that’s what we used. The rices we used are Sona Masoori long-grain rice and Rose Matta parboiled rice.
Creamy, with a hint of sweetness from the coconut milk.
Separately wash 1/2 cup each of long-grain and parboiled rice until the water runs clear. The recipe recommends cooking them separately, ‘cos the parboiled takes longer to cook. Use 3 cups water for each variety of rice, and cook them until very soft.
Then combine them and set aside. The mixture will thicken as it sits.
If using puliavarakka, it needs to be toasted. Cook the toasted puliavarakka or the fresh/frozen lima beans in 3 cups coconut milk.
Add the cooked beans and coconut milk to the rice pot with salt. Stir gently before serving. Thin out with a bit of boiling water if necessary.
Usually served with green jackfruit puzukku and pappadam.
_____________________________________________________
Chethumaangakari – Green Mango Pickle
This is an instant pickle bursting with flavour. It has a shelf-life of about a week.
Wash and cut one medium-sized green mango (unpeeled) into small pices. Sprinkle with salt (about 1 tsp.?) and keep covered.
Lightly toast and powder 1 tbsp. fenugreek seeds.
Heat 2 tbsps. vegetable oil, add half a teaspoon of brown mustard seeds.
When they start sputtering, add cayenne powder (the recipe recommends 1/4 cup, we used 2 tbsps), the fenugreek powder, a pinch of asafoetida and 4-5 fresh curry leaves.
Reduce the heat to low, add the salted mango pieces, mix well. Take it off the flame, check for salt, let it cool.
Store in a glass jar in the refrigerator. Tastes better the next day.
_____________________________________________________
Vishu and Baisakhi greetings to our readers.
- Bee
Ammini Ramachandran’s website: Peppertrail.com
An excerpt from the book.
Filed Under: Ammini-Ramachandran, book, Book Reviews, Books, chethumaangakari, Coconut, cookbook, Grains Greens and Grated Coconuts, green-mango-pickle, Kerala, Kochi, Lima Bean, Mango, MUSINGS, Rice, vegan recipes, vegetarian recipes, vishu-kanji
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29 Comments
Wow Bee, amazing review… really enjoyed reading it!
Wish you a happy Vishu!
Bee, thank you for the appreciation! This is an outstanding review of Ammini’s book! I think the book has so much to offer all of us at various levels.
That was a wonderful review there, Bee. After reading all of you, I will have to seek this book out when it becomes available here.
Vishu greetings to you and yours!
another beautiful review… i am placing my order this weekend and i am sure that i wont be dissapointed with this book:)
happy vishu bee n jai! miss home a lot during vishu…
“Tomorrow is Vishu, Kerala’s festival marking the new astrological year. ” You might have to review this I guess, as this year Vishu falls on April 15th and not on april 14th! On a General note it is true, it is celebrated on Medam 1st but this year it is on Medam 2nd (which happens once in 12 yrs i guess) and hence the change I guess!
Shn
thank you, shn, for pointing that out.- b.
Happy Vishu Bee and Jai!
Wow looks like this book and won a lot of hearts!!
i would be one of them too
a very good review!
Great review! I will try and get this book.
Happy Vishu to both of you.I don’t know about Vishu or rather what they call it in Karnataka.I have to ask Sia,it might be Ugadi,I have no clue!
Have a great weekend Bee,see you on Monday:)
in karnataka it’s called chandramana yugadi. it’s based on the lunar calendar, unlike andhra where it is based on the solar calendar.
http://www.parashakthitemple.org/pages/ugaadhi.aspx
- bee
Happy Vishu dear Bee n’ Jai…..
what a book review.
and happy Visakhi too, sending some Peele chawal and baked yam chips your way (its a Punju tradition to eat yellow colored food and wear something yellow )
BTW, where did you find the green mangoes! that pickle is looking so delicious
our local gujju grocer. for the first time, they were actually raw inside. – b
Enjoyed reading the review, Bee. Excellent!
Vishu greetings to you and Jai. Have a great weekend!
Bee and Jai,
Vishu Greetings to you both. A really good review for a really good book.
Bee & Jai, Vishu aashamsakal!
Excellent review. I am planning to give this book too. So you already started trying vishu dishes?:) In our side we don’t make kanji for vishu so ‘vishu kanji’ is a new think to me. That Mango pickle looks authentic. Bee you have outdone yourself.
vishu kanji is new to me as well. i believe in some families they use ground up whole moong. if you want to give, i am happy to receive. my copy already has turmeric all over it. – bee
Happy vishu to both of you
tommorrow ( apr 14th) is our new year too! ( Tamilians)
what is it called? – b
Bee, tamil new yr is called “varsha pirappu”.
gosh, these tamil tongue twisters. say after me, VI-SHOO. – b.
An excellent review Bee. Love your writing style. Happy Vishu to you and Jai.
bee , naach na aaye , angan teda;)..samji;)
Oh, Bee — I have lots to catch up on here I can see!
I’ve been wanting to get this book, what with everyone’s posts regarding same… and now your post here is the last straw. I am on my way out of town but I have to order it today. Perhaps it’ll be waiting for me when I return. Thanks for the wonderful writeup
Thanks for the review Bee. I have added it to my list at Amazon and will be getting it soon.
I agree with you, gone are the days of buying books because of recipes, I want more, I want to know my food and where it came from – That’s a project I am hoping to start working on next year.
From your review also, again I ask myself – what do we mean by authentic cuisine when all our food the world over has infusions of each other…
what sacrilege! Of course, there is “authentic food”. if you want “world’s best and authentic italian pizza” – you should make a trip to our sleepy little town 5k miles from Italy!! joking aside, we wonder about that ourselves…about culture too. the lines are blurry at best…and in addition national boundaries are arbitrary and in some cases convolute our thinking, leading us to wrong conclusions. –Jai
the pickle looks soooo yummy:)i might try that as soon as i can get a raw mango.
hey happy vishu to you too:)
So true, Jai.
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Bee,Asha
Vishu is also celebrated in certain parts of Karnataka …epsecially in South Canara.Its called Vishu or Souramana Ugadi.
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