Clinton St. Quarterly Vol. 10 No. 2 Summer 1988

keep the seeds whole. When browned to a crisp, seeds flavor the oil and speckle the curry. Merchants, seated in the middle of a ring of burlap bags brimming with colorful powders, assemble their own masala blends. Still others stock tins from famous curry blenders in Madras or Bombay. Spicemakers first commissioned by British royalty still sell their time-honored blends. The tins are imprinted By ApPr is e o p l a a r t i e n d g a a c t c i u v i r t r y y . i A s s n w ev it e h r m an o st a c ts in H indu so c ie ty , cook in g is go ve rn ed b y a com p lex system o f so c ia l codes. Many r itu a ls in fluen ce th e p rep a ra t io n and consump tion o f food . pointment of Her Majesty the Queen or His Majesty the King, depending on the reign. The essence of simmer is crucial. After browning the vegetables or meat, slowly simmer, adding water in degrees. A rolling boil is anathema to the gentle, flavoring curry gravy. There is no speedy curry, and to try and rush a curry by boiling simply destroys the sauce. There are dry curries and soupy curries; coconut milk sweetened curries and bitter curries. Curries for the maharaja, curries for the washermen—dhobis, bland curries for the sahibs and memsahibs dining in the restaurants on Connaught Place in Delhi. Preparing a curry is never an isolated activity. As with most acts in Hindu society, cooking is governed by a complex system of social codes. Many rituals influence the preparation and consumption of food. The Hindus are very conscientious about eating times: there are fasting days, meatless days, hours of prayer, marriage protocol. A wife may cook a curry, but she can only eat after her husband eats, even if he returns home hours late. Prasad is food first offered to a priest, then blessed and given to the worshippers at the temple, who open their palms to receive the morsels. Consumption is then a communion with the temple deity. Tibetans burn incense to honor the kitchen gods and set out food offerings each day. Fruits, sweets and rice are appropriate foods to offer to the deities; likewise special dishes are associated with certain festivals. In Nepal a molasses and sesame-filled steamed dumpling is prepared once a year for the goddess Yamini. Tibetans sculpt elaborate roasted barley flour and yak butter cakes called tormas. These cakes are offered to the evil spirits to distract and appease them, a ritualistic plea for peaceful coexistence. Some foods are consumed with the hope of initiating sacred visions. The ancient soma drink, considered by some to be a mushroom concoction, was the elixir praised in the early vedas. Datura, a belladonna derivative, is an offering to Shiva, but when consumed, renders the devotee pagli—mad. A food preparer in India will naturally ritualize the process of cooking. How much easier the time might pass if one were humming a prayer to one of the kitchen gods, or imagining the gifts or rewards from the offering of food. There is no concern about the time-consuming labors. No concept of drudgery. Each step in preparation has the potential to become an act of worship, capable of liberating the mind of the humble cook. The work of chopping a chili pepper, for example, can be dedicated to a supreme value, whether a visualization of a deity, or the attainment of a purified state. There is no regret over the time spent cooking, all efforts are worthwhile if one has the proper attitude. As a dish, curry never stands alone. What better way to top off a spicy, hot meal than with a cool, exotic Indian sweet. In the bazaar, shops display platters towering with sweets cut into squares, some covered with a delicate layer of silver filigree which is considered to be a medicinal or aphrodisiac. When once I tried the silver, the metal violently reacted with my fillings, sending waves of pain throughout my mouth. The sweet shops in Benares are famous. Behind glass windows trays of gulab jamuns—spongy pastries swimming in a honey, rose-scented s y ru p - line the shelves next to dishes of sand- esh—sweets with a halvah-like dryness. A favorite afternoon ritual was to purchase some sweets-to-go, each ingeniously wrapped up in a dried leaf container, and order a drink at another shop. Tea stalls were everywhere and often not even enclosed with walls. All a teamaker needed was a charcoal stove, a pot or two, tea, sugar, milk, water, some glasses and chairs. A mango grove in Sarnath was converted to an outdoor tea shop during the winter, before the monsoons hit. One shop in Benares, Mishra’s, had a nondescript six-foot-wide store-front on the main roundabout in the center of town, inside, patrons sat on a bench along the wall. Chalked on a board were the flavors of their specialty, lassi—a yoghurt milkshake. But what a choice! There was a sandalwood lassi, papaya and mango lassi, rose, coconut, guava, pineapple, cashew and apple-flavored lassis. Gooseberry, lychee, mint, almond, lotus and amber. . .all delicious. After ordering, the lassi maker, seated cross-legged at the front of the shop, dipped into a giant tub of thick yoghurt. Into a deep clay pot with a bulbous body and narrow neck, he added the selected flavoring along with the yoghurt. Next, he twisted a four-sided propeller-like paddle, back and forth between his palms, which enabled him to whip the drink to a froth without an electric blender. For the long time customer, there was an added special. One could order a goli—a ball of pungent, acrid ganja paste called bhang. “ What size?” the proprietor asked. “ Half-inch?” “ Three- quarter?" The ball was swallowed with a long drink of lassi to wash it down. Patrons of Mishra’s, before attending one of the many ethereal, droning Indian music concerts, first stopped off for one of the famous ganja-taced drinks. Wedding parties ordered in bulk. Ibegan to copy some of the recipes in my cookbook, an assorted collection of Indian and hybrid English dishes printed in English. I freely switched ingredients around, substituting okra for beans, if there wasn't a .. . . ......1.. . .. ......■■. "■■■!«. FOR ALL YOUR CATERING NEEDS CALL (503) 274-9750 KATHLEEN A. YOUNG & PENELOPE A. MICK PROPRIETERS 907 S.W. GIBBS, PORTLAND, OR 97201 \ __________________ _ _ _______________ __ NEW COMPUTER ALIGNMENT SERVICE For hamburgers & homemade desserts AUTOMOTIVE SERVICE ASSOCIATION MEMBER AUTOBODY & PAINT PRECISION COLLISION REPAIR UNIBODY SPECIALISTS FRAME STRAIGHTENING TOWING ARRANGED QUALITY WORK AT A FAIR PRICE MEMBER 33 NW 23rd Pl 223-0287 Mon-Fri 7:30-7:00 Sat 7:30-4:00 2454 E. Burnside 232-3600 Family Owned & Operated Since 1952 FOOTHILL 28 Clinton St. Quarterly—Summer, 1988

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