“In
words and pickles, I have immortalised my memories, although
distortions are inevitable in both methods,” writes Saleem Sinai, the
protagonist of Salman Rushdie’s Booker-winning Midnight’s Children. For
Sinai, pickles are a metaphor for both the country he is from – India –
and its muddled history. But if you look at the meticulously compiled,
tried and tested vegetarian recipes in Usha’s Pickle Digest, written and
self-published by retired lawyer Usha R Prabakaran, you’ll know that
there’s little room for distortion.
“Long
waits for vegetables and fruits not in season were quite the norm. The
pickle samples, after repeated trials, were given to relatives and
friends for their constructive criticism. The pickle needed to be set
aside for determining its shelf life, unrefrigerated without the use of
chemicals and additives,” says Prabakaran, who lives in Chennai and
spent a decade putting the book together.
With
the help of an able secretary, Prabakaran narrowed down 5,000 recipes
to 1,000 for her book, which was published in 1998 and remains a Bible
of sorts for pickle lovers.
Usha’s
Pickle Digest encourages you to make a pickle of almost any vegetable,
or fruit even. There’s everything from watermelon rind to raw plantain
skin to wood apple to popular pickle recipes such as mango and lime, of
course. And there are pickles that are native to specific states: from
the bamboo-shoot pickle made in Arunachal Pradesh to the famous Gonkura
pickle from Andhra Pradesh. The book also dismisses the myth that making
pickles is a tedious task, and includes a chapter titled Quick Serve,
which deals with instant no-nonsense recipes for vegetables such as
cabbage, carrot and ridge gourd that are otherwise often ignored even by
diehard vegetarians. In fact, the first pickle that Prabakaran made –
mango ginger, which is actually a type of turmeric – is in the assorted
section, which also includes several quick recipes.“Mango ginger –
totally uncomplicated, tasty, fresh, healthy and so quick to make. Slice
up the mango ginger, add in the green chillies cut into rounds, throw
in a few strands of fresh green peppercorns, pour in adequate lemon
juice, add salt and your pickle is ready,” writes Prabakaran.
Pickles
have almost always been the easiest way to make our meals
better-tasting. Stuck in a hostel with only semi-mouldy bread for
breakfast? Make a dish of avakaya mango pickle and bread. Feeling under
the weather with little or no appetite? There’s always khichdi with a
dash of lime pickle to awaken the taste buds. Craving a snack? Smear
green chilli pickle on a chapati to make a tangy roll. Prabakaran
recalls that her mother used to eat freshly cut mango pickle almost like
a “poriyal” (side dish), or as an accompaniment to sambar, rasam or
curd rice.
There
is a telling reference of how well-loved Indian pickles are in Muzaffar
Alam and Seema Alavi’s A European Experience of The Mughal Orient: The
‘Ijaz-I-Arsalani’ (Persian Letters, 1773-1778) of Antoine-Louis Henri
Polier. Polier, a French-Swiss loyalist of the East India Company,
served at the court of Mughal emperor Shah Alam II. Polier, who had
worked for the British in South India, Bengal and Bihar, took to Indian
pickles and women (he had two Indian wives). The book, a translation of
letters that he wrote in Persian to English, speaks of his fondness for
green mango pickle in oil. But does it include a recipe? Not a chance.
As recently as the mid-Eighties, when Prabakaran began work on her book,
pickling tips were generally kept secret by culinary experts. This was
when “home chef” wasn’t a skill listed on a blog, or even as an author’s
profile in a book. This was when blogs didn’t exist.
When
Prabakaran was putting together Usha’s Pickle Digest, she never
hesitated to ask anyone for a recipe or a tip. “Nobody was inessential
to me – cooks at wedding functions, hotel chefs… I guess the excitement
to share was mutual. I used to watch my mother, mother-in-law,
relatives, friends and acquaintances at close quarters. More often than
not, it was an elaborate pickling session. My passion and their
enthusiasm kindled a two-way street for sharing tips they had never
shared with anyone before.” Her mother-in-law, who is originally from
Andhra Pradesh, the motherland of pickles, podis and chutneys, was a big
inspiration. “She really turned out at least one pickle on a daily
basis, of course apart from a thogayel. I managed to pick up her style
of pickling, but went easy on the jaggery.”
Prabakaran’s
generosity shines through in every section of her book. The author has
shared every valuable piece of advice she has learnt along the way – be
it in how to temper spices (don’t mix asafoetida and garlic since they
neutralise each others’ flavours), or how to pick vegetables.
“My
father-in-law taught me how to buy most vegetables. Vegetables past
their prime he would not buy – he would not compromise on buying them
even if they came dirt cheap. It was such fun jostling through the
Mambalam Vegetable Market. The minute the train stopped, the vegetables
would arrive in huge gunny bags. People would be hustling the vendor to
get the best. It was the place we shopped for the much sought after
“vadu” (tender mango), both with and without stems. The ones with the
stems stayed crunchier for a longer time, but, of course, were
disproportionately costlier. I really miss those days. That was a
simple, uncomplicated, economical life we led.”
Prabakaran
promises to publish a second edition of her book soon, but meanwhile,
here’s the recipe for her mother’s favourite pickle.
No comments:
Post a Comment