India on My Platter (30 page)

Method

1.  Wash the fish well; apply some turmeric and salt, and keep aside.

2.  Heat a bit of mustard oil in a deep pan. Add pounded and crushed elephant apple pieces and sauté for a minute with a bit of salt. Add four cups of water to this. Bring it to a boil and then put it on simmer. If you don’t find elephant apple, you can add raw mango to this recipe instead. After 10 minutes add green chillies and pounded ginger and garlic (not chopped). Let it simmer for another 10 minutes. Add turmeric powder.

3.  Once the elephant apple is almost cooked, add marinated fish to this reduced stock. Let the fish cook for five to seven minutes. Handle it delicately. Add rice powder and crush and sprinkle roselle leaves with your hand. (If you can’t find this, add any local fern available in your area).

4.  Cook it for another minute or so; garnish with coriander. Serve it hot with rice.

∼

The second dish we made was the chicken cooked in a hollow bamboo, also called
Sunga Kukura.
I got a few tips from the chef; he said that the bamboo should be fresh and rich in moisture. This helps the food inside to boil and prevents the shoot from burning. The bamboo shoot was also lightly smoked to add to the flavour. The chicken is marinated with fresh turmeric, ginger, garlic, coriander, fermented bamboo shoot water, and fermented bamboo shoots. The chicken is then stuffed into the shoot and then sealed using a fresh turmeric leaf. The shoot is then put in the fire, standing up, to cook for about 40 minutes.

B
AMBOO
C
HICKEN A.K.A.
S
UNGA
K
ukura

(Chicken cooked inside a roasted hollow bamboo, sealed from the sides.)

Ingredients

Other

A place to light up a wood-fire or a set-up to burn the bamboo.

Method

1.  Marinate the chicken with turmeric roots, ginger, garlic, chillies, coriander leaves, fermented bamboo shoot juice, salt and dried bamboo shoot. If you’re not adding fermented bamboo juice add a bit of lime juice or oil to mix all the ingredients together. Marinate this for two hours at least.

2.  Now roast the bamboo hollow from outside for two minutes so that fresh flavours are released within the hollow.

3.  Fill this hollow with half the marinated chicken. Add two and a half cups of water. Fold the turmeric leaves and push the chicken down and make sure that the leaves do not let the steam escape. (It basically acts like a cooker.)

4.  Cook this on open fire for approximately 40 minutes. The outer side will turn dark grey and you will be able to smell that it is cooked. Remove from the flame and serve hot with steamed rice. The time for cooking may vary depending on the size and quality of the bamboo.

∼

At the end of all the cooking, we sat down to enjoy the fruits of our labour. On a fresh banana leaf was the Assamese
dal,
made of only cereal water and salt. Not my favourite choice on the platter. What saved me was the fish outenga. The fish was tender and the flavours unique. The chicken was soft and the bamboo had acted as the perfect pressure cooker. I thanked him for my first Assamese experience.

I had spent a lot of time travelling through India and had learnt from different people—chefs, mothers, housewives, shopkeepers,
mithai walas, namkeen walas,
and cooks—about different styles of cooking, different types of food, and of course, different cultures. This was another unforgettable experience to add to my diary, my memories and my life.

D
AY
94

6 November / Guwahati

Yesterday was dedicated to the traditional food of Assam. So, today I took a small detour from my culinary journey to explore the cultural side of Assam. I was invited by the Assam Kala Kendra to learn about the energetic, fast paced dance, Bihu. Brisk movements and deft hand gestures describe this beautiful folk dance the best. The dance is attached to the Bihu festival, which celebrates the onset of spring and marks the harvesting season. This festival is dedicated to nature, rebirth and fertility. Both men and women participate in the dance and wear traditional Assamese clothing called the
muga mekhela,
which is a two-piece garment that has red floral designs embroidered on them and resembles a sari. The men wear the
dhoti gamosa.
The most important part of the costume is the
gamosa,
a thin towel with a red border that is tied on the head with a fluffy knot. The
gamosa
is tied on the head while dancing and later hung around the neck during the prayers.

I could see a lot of bright red during the group dance. They enacted stories, forming different types of circles and formations. The dance was accompanied by traditional music. The lyrics ranged from welcoming the Assamese New Year, celebrating the life of farmers, history and to even modern life. Besides the common
dhol,
the other instruments were made from hollow bamboo, like the
toka
(a bamboo flute that could be as big as a didgeridoo). I joined in for the last bit of the dance and all I was clap my hands. I had to do it really fast, keeping rhythm with the music. I did make a complete fool of myself as I couldn’t keep up with the change in pace, mood and rhythm, but I tried my best! I admired the skill of the dancers for being so agile and graceful.

I spent the morning with them and then we all joined to eat a light Assamese breakfast. We had the traditional farmer’s breakfast which includes
poita,
a fermented rice preparation with yoghurt, chillies and mashed potatoes. It was a high-energy start for farmers to eat
poita
and set out to the fields. It was a lot like curd rice, but sour because of the fermentation.

I left the dancers after breakfast to find an interesting spot for lunch, with my thoughts solely revolving around planning and preparing for my meals. Unfortunately, I couldn’t make it to Nagaland on this trip, but I had managed to find food from Nagaland in Guwahati at a place called Naga Kitchen. I spent lunch time there, eating with the owner, Romeo. He introduced me to Naga food by giving me a few tips. Nothing was fried and most of the dishes were boiled. Just like Assamese food, they did not use a lot of spices and used pickled, fermented and preserved food instead. Their favourite meat, and very common on the menus, was pork. All the meats were smoked, whether it was pork, fish, or chicken. Nagaland has about 30 tribes that all speak different languages and have different cultural habits and of course, a unique cuisine.

Lunch began and I was served a platter of different smoked meats called
ith akuni,
a kind of fermented soya beans. Only someone familiar with
akuni
would not be taken aback by its pungent smell. I tried eating it, without smelling it, and it actually tasted good. The second dish I tasted was smoked fish with
anishi,
which was made of dry fermented yam leaves smoked over fire. There was also a soup that came for the main course called the mixed vegetable. It was literally vegetables with salt that were boiled with water. That was the only vegetarian dish available, so if you are a vegetarian, maybe Nagaland isn’t the best place to be in. If I had to pick one of my favourite dishes from the afternoon, it would have had to be the smoked fish with the
anishi.
If you are a pork fan, the dry pork with bamboo shoots would appeal to you.

One very special feature about Nagaland is that it is home to
bhut jolokia,
the world’s second hottest chilli with a count of 10 lakh Scoville units. I was told that the chilli might be hard on the palate, but it is easy on the stomach. I mustered up my courage to eat this chilli. I decided to taste the paste of the chilli by dipping the tip of a spoon into the bowl. It wasn’t as bad as I thought it would be; I survived and it didn’t trouble my stomach either. That was my experience at the Naga Kitchen. I didn’t want to judge it, just experience it. It was a better idea to just absorb everything I had learnt.

D
AY
95

7 November / Guwahati

Today was my last day in Assam, and soon after the sun set, it would be time to head home. That made it mandatory for me to start the day on a sweet note, just for good luck. I went to Lakshmi Mishtan Bhandar in Beltola. Here I met Arnab, the owner. The shop was founded by his grandfather in 1942. I was looking for a particular variety of Assamese sweet called
pitha.
I had never seen or tasted it before. From what I had gathered, it was like a flat Assamese crêpe made of only rice flour and stuffed with a kind of
kheer.
There were many varieties of it; some were made of palm syrup, others had sesame, and some had jaggery in them. I also found savoury
pithas
with different stuffing that were fried, boiled or even steamed. I ordered two; the plain version with
kheer
and one with palm jaggery called
ghila pitha
; this was fried. Both were delicious and reminded me of dessert crêpes that I have had at a continental restaurant. The
pitha
is usually accompanied by tea, and the shop was set up in such a way that the guests could pick up the
pitha
of their choice with their tea, and stand at the little counters.

My next point of interest, while I was still in Assam, was tea! I had been surrounded by garden estates and plantations throughout my trip, whether it was Dharamshala or Munnar. Most of the tea here was grown in the Brahmaputra valley. The climate and altitude was perfect for the production. So much so that 150 years ago it was one of the most famous tea production spots in the world. Both sides of the river have fertile banks suitable for tea production.

I am not a tea drinker, or a coffee addict for that matter, but my family drinks a lot of both. If I had to choose, and I couldn’t avoid it, I preferred sugary sweet, milky tea, like most Indians. After my travels I could see how important a cup of tea was for someone’s mental peace. Tea stalls in our country are little hubs for conversation, political debates and camaraderie. Like all food and beverage products, tea has a huge variety in terms of quality. We can buy anything from boxed tea bags to first flush single growth loose leaves. Like I mentioned earlier, when I was in Dharamshala, tea is not just about boiling and mixing. If you ever visit Assam, take some time out to walk through the estates, and drinking some tea amidst the bright green plants.

This was the last leg of my travel and walking through the gardens in Assam I reminisced about my journey and I realised that even though I have travelled all over the world, the beauty of India was unparalleled. Every state has a different feeling, a unique landscape and lots of love to offer.

D
AY
96
AND
97

I was going back to Delhi, my home, and I just couldn’t wait to get there.

D
AY
98

10 November / Delhi

After two days of a cross country train journey, I finally reached my destination and completed my journey. I had not yet reached home, but I was in my home town. Let me formally introduce you to my city, New Delhi.

Being the capital of the country, it is the heart of the nation. Extremely popular worldwide for its Punjabi weddings, street food, family culture, insane drivers and its new and shiny metro. Though what I love most about this city is how involved everyone is in cooking, eating and sharing of food. Discussions in Mumbai might be about business or lifestyle, but in Delhi, the topics of conversation are about meals, restaurants and cuisine. People here are very particular about what they eat and are very conscious of flavour profiles and taste.

Delhi’s food culture really started to take form with the advent of the Mughal rule. Places like Chandni Chowk have been around since the seventeenth century. Mughlai food is one of the most popular types of Indian food, here and abroad. Now that I have travelled, I can say that India does not have one cuisine, even though in abroad Mughlai is synonymous with Indian food. What is more important in Delhi, than any cuisine or restaurant, is the street food and the
dhaba
culture. Some shops from the eighteenth century are still around rubbing shoulders with new-age eateries.

The people of Delhi are an interesting bunch. Over the years they have managed to set up some wellestablished culturally-crossed themes that separate them from other states in the country. For example, Delhi loves its Punjabi-Chinese food (call it
Chinjabi
if you must!). It is a spicy, saucy version of the subtle Oriental cuisine and the people of Delhi, no matter how rich, will always be in love with it. When Delhi-ites finish a night in the town, they will drive straight to the nearest
dhaba.
That neighbouring shop which serves up hot kebabs, rolls,
paranthas
and tandoori
roti
s, will never be too far. Each market, in every part of the city will have the standard
chaat
guy, who started his business on a makeshift cycle, and now owns a multistorey air conditioned
chaat
shop. Last but not the least; I must mention the love that Delhi has for its
dosas, idlis
(south Indian steamed cake of rice), and
sambar.
A standard vegetarian meal for every class, this limited choice of menu is always available for the Delhiwalas as a light meal that reflects everything about south India in Delhi.