ABSOLUTE MANGO MADNESS

I have given myself over to the dark side of mango consumption.  I am going for broke with the luscious orange fruits this year, perhaps eating them with such wild abandon in observance with India's mango crazed month of May?  It's good enough reason for me.

I mean really, I'm obsessed.  The little Filipino variety has been my favorite available to me in Portland, thus far.  I'd really love to taste all the mangoes of the world.  Now there's a book I'd love to research!

Apart from eating one by itself any time of day or included in an afternoon tea snack, my new thing is to put juicy chunks on my oatmeal -- really a lovely pairing when you think about it, nutty oats with the bright tang of mango brightness, doused in a heavy hand of shredded coconut, this is a super pairing that will fill you up while taking your tummy to the tropics!  Do try it.

INDIA DREAMS

After writing about the lovely pongal, revisiting the golden-hued images, I found myself day-dreaming of our time on the Sub-Continent -- the place that is so uniquely itself, so unapologetic and wild and wonderful all at once.  I miss it and and I don't miss it -- whatever it is, that special oomph and parade of color, India will forever be my shining jewel of mystery and beauty.  

Some day, we shall return, hopefully to explore the Northern regions -- and sip tea with friends at the chai stand, watch crazy groovy 60s commercials with Indian girlies brushing their extraordinary hair, turn twirls off a 10-foot diving board into an oddly calm public pool, explore temples till we get 'templed out' then tuck into a magnificent papaya, doused heavily in fresh lime juice.  We'll do this till our hearts can't take it anymore and our spirits are so very tired.  

I'm ready!

Have you been to a place you've longed for again and again?  Where?

SIMPLE SOUTH INDIAN RECIPE: PONGAL

Pongal is a fabulous, quick, any-time-of-day base for a healthy and hearty meal. It's sort of like an Indian risotto.

I first encountered Pongal at a typical family restaurant in Mysore, India. We ordered it by pointing at another diner's plate, our usual technique when we didn't understand anything on the menu. The mountain of glossy, creamy rice looked simple, safe and not too heavy.

Well, After one bite of the mellow, risotto-like, savory rice dish, I was smitten. Pongal was a great breakfast, a refreshing contrast to the heavy, spicy curries we were eating for lunch and dinner.

Little did I know that this sole plate of beloved pongal would be my last for awhile. Pongal is served only on certain days in Karnataka — had I realized this, I would have tried to eat my fill that first time, because every morning after upon my request for it, I was answered sadly with a head shake and a, 'no madam, only pongal on Tuesdays.' Inevitably, that would be a week from when I was asking for it and we'd be moving on to another city by then. Blast!

No bother now though — I can have pongal all day long. After a little tinkering, I discovered the secrets behind this rather simple and delectable dish. It is lovely served with a curried vegetable of some kind: eggplant, okra ("lady fingers" as they're called in India), or green beans would all be nice. Or pongal can be served as is, for breakfast or a light lunch.

So check out your local Indian grocery, gather your supplies and go ahead and make pongal anytime you please! Let me know what you think.

Karnataka-Style Pongal
serves 4-6 as a main dish

1/4 cup moong dal or channa dal ("yellow split peas" are a fine US equivalent)
1 cup white rice
1/2 cup dried coconut
3 cups water
1/4 cup butter (ghee or vegan butter spread are also great)
1 teaspoon cumin seeds
1 teaspoon mustard seeds
2 cloves garlic, minced
1/4 teaspoon turmeric
1 teaspoon freshly ground black pepper
7 curry leaves (1 to use as a garnish)
Salt to taste

Cover lentils with water and let stand for 20 minutes (this ensures even cooking time for rice/lentil combo). Mix the lentils with the rice and coconut, and with about 3 cups water. Cook until soft, about 20 minutes. You'll know it's done when the texture is creamy, like risotto. You may need to add more or less water, depending on what type of rice you use and the freshness of your lentils.

Meanwhile, heat a small sauté pan to medium and toast the cumin seeds, garlic, black pepper, turmeric, and curry leaves in 1/4 cup butter (or vegan butter spread). Heat mixture for about 2 minutes, until very aromatic. Set aside. When rice/lentil mixture is cooked through, add the spice mixture, stirring to combine. 

Very nice with a sweet lassi or chai.

SWEET SOUTH INDIAN SOUL FOOD: KESARI BATH

we attended a lovely wedding in Belur, Karnataka, where we were served kesari bath before the ceremony

It's flowery, creamy, yellow, studded with pineapple and flecked with aromatic cardamom. Have you ever had the South Indian breakfast, Kesari Bath?

Kesari Bath is a traditional sweet creamed wheat dish served in many South Indian States. I had the best versions of this perfumey grain in Karnataka, India. It was served to me, as well as hundreds of other guests before a grand Indian wedding--a celebrated "love marriage." Karnataka is a large Southwestern State home to bustling cities such as Bangalore as well as ancient temple towns: Hampi, Halibeedu and Belur. Each town and chef has a slightly different take on Kesari Bath, pronounced 'Kee-see-ri Bath.' "Kesari" means saffron and "Bath” means semolina or rice mixture. The principle ingredient is Rava flour, the hulled kernel of a wheat grain. In the US, we know Rava as "Cream of Wheat" hot cereal or "Wheat Farina Cereal." Rava is available at local Indian groceries, but feel free to substitute the US equivalents I mentioned. The rava is then cooked with a myriad of spices, milk and sugar.  

This delightful treat is usually served for breakfast or during snack times -- it's toasty sweet flavor is complimented perfectly by a tangy mango lassi , sweet lassi or chai-- a combination of any of these beverages and Kesari Bath comprise a typical breakfast in this state. Kesari Bath is most often served on a banana leaf, sometimes accompanied by a savory version of the grain called, "Khara Bath" (more on Khara bath later this week). When served together, a lovely combination of sweet and savory, the dish is known as "Chow Chow Bath." 

I altered the recipe to be slightly less sweet and lower in fat than the traditional Inidian version -- I wanted to feel good about it, as I found myself eating the grain-based breakfast every other day. This simple dish can be adjusted to include local fruits you have on hand -- a diced peach, fresh figs, sliced bananas or poached pears are all lovely additions. Also, the garnish of almonds can be altered to suit your own tastes and preferences -- crushed hazelnuts, cashews, toasted coconut, ground flaxseeds would all be great toppings. So next time you're thinking of a warm bowl or oatmeal or hot cereal, try this similar Indian comfort food.

Kesari Bath
serves 4-5

 

1 cup Rava (Cream of Wheat or Bob's Red Mill Whole Wheat Farina will work perfectly fine as well)
3 tablespoons butter (I used Earth Balance to keep mine Vegan)
1 heaping tablespoon sugar
1 1/2 cup milk (dairy, soy, almond -- whatever you like)
1 cup water
1 tsp ground cardamom
1 pinch saffron
1/4 teaspoon salt
1/2 teaspoon vanilla
1 1/2 cup pineapple, roughly chopped
1/3 cup mango juice (orange, apricot, or pineapple juice would work too)
4 dried mango slices (or dried apricot), slivered
2 tablespoons almonds, roughly chopped (or cashews, a more traditional option)

First, chop the pineapple, dice the mango slices and gather your spices. Heat butter in a medium-sized sauté pan, add rava, stir and roast on low until you can smell a nice, nutty aroma and some of the Rava is turning golden. Set aside when golden brown.

Meanwhile mix the sugar, cardamon, saffron, salt, vanilla, pineapple, mango juice and mango slices. 

Heat this fruit mixture on medium for 3-5 minutes until the pineapple turns bright yellow from the saffron and starts to cook down a bit.

Add water and milk to pineapple mixture then add all of the liquids/pineapple mixture to toasted Rava. 

Cook on medium heat until Rava has absorbed all the liquids, it only takes about 1 or 2 minutes. Serve about 3/4 cup Kesari Bath along with chopped nuts.

Serve hot or room temperature as breakfast or a snack. On a banana leaf for pure Karnataka flavor!

HEY LADIES

(a woman jogs in her full salwar suit at the Panjim Gymkhana in Panjim, Goa, India)

"You are from?" the Indian guy at the chai stand queries Dave, a question he's fielded for the umpteenth time.
"USA," replies Dave.
"Obama!"
"Obama!" Dave repeats.
"What you do in the US?"
"I'm a sign maker -- I work on computers. My wife is a teacher."
"Yes, I'm a teacher," I edge in.
"How many days in India?" . . .


(ladies eat breakfast at a street-side cafe in Da Nang, Vietnam)

The conversation continues -- again, I have to eek out my voice in the exchange. Most of the time, only my husband is addressed. Occasionally, this focus on him is a pleasure-- I'm tired, travel-weary, sick of answering the same questions over and over . . . But more often than not, I'm fed up with being second fiddle and I force my way into the conversation, asking about this man's family and wife and what does she do? What's her name? Where is she?

That's the big question I found on my mind after being in India for four months, where are the ladies at? I realized that our company was almost always male --

No women drivers, waiters, shop-keepers (5 men sold me a bra out of a box, making recommendations all the while), chai vendors, tut tut drivers, cab drivers, train workers, porters, cooks, dobi wallas (clothes washing men), doctors, budget-hotel staff, bus drivers, etc . . . Yes, women appear in markets, travel agencies, upscale hotels, teachers . . . But being budget-travelers, our interactions with women were very limited in India. As shown in the beginning dialogue, my husband, was almost always addressed before I was -- and even then, I had to work my way into most conversations -- literally straining to contribute my voice.


(a young woman serves banh my--Vietnamese sandwiches-- at a new year's celebration in Ho Chi Minh City, Vietnam)

From what I observed, the interaction and relations between sexes was also a completely different dynamic than my Western way of thinking-- keeping each sex very separated and women keeping much more to themselves, rarely could I strike up a chat on the bus or in the market with and Indian lady-- what are we thinking about each other? I would ponder this while on the bus . . . and try to bridge the gap by offering a cookie or candy from my purse. Mostly, what I got back was a side to side nod and "no" and a small smile.

The rules at the public pool in Panjim, Goa highlighted some cultural differences in regards to sex -- men required to wear speedos, women a sporty one piece -- which was interpreted as 1920's style- unitard bathing suit. While at the beach, Indian ladies just wear their clothes (saris, salwaar suit, T-shirt and jeans --whatever they had on) in the water. Or if a woman exercised at the track, she might appear in a full sari or salwaar suit -- my tank top and shorts a stark contrast in flesh exposure. Even then, running a few times per week at the track, i think I saw a lady there twice.

"Love marriage or arranged marriage?" Many giggles and interest over my "love marriage" response. In India, love is grown into, a decision made by families, not two young people who have lived together for 3 1/2 years and decided to commit to each other, as Dave and I have . . A strange idea to me, that my life could be promised to me by my parents --especially considering our marriage is so young and fresh. I struggle with this idea, yet am careful to remind myself there are many other countries where women's choice in clothing, husband and lifestyle are MUCH more restricted than in India.

The Subcontinent -- a land of ladies exuding sensuality, color and the scent of jasmine perfuming the air from the flowers in their hair . . . tied up in a bun or braid of deliciously long hair -- how i want to see it down, blowing in the hot wind as they breeze by on the back of their man's scooter.


(a banana seller in Old Goa, Goa, India--photo by Stephanie Kilpatrick, my sister-in-law)

Being in a new country, Vietnam, pronounces the contrasts of India that much more -- to see women in skin tight short-shorts, low-cut tank tops, thigh-highs, sky-high heels, hair down in an array of styles-- most apparent, skin!!! is a revelation. . . . Laughter, commingling of the sexes over beers, dating -- points to the fact that Indian culture, when out of the major cities, excludes pre-marital dating almost entirely. For the most part, men are at bars. If there are men and women inter-mixing, it's within the family context, intergenerational with grand parents and children at a restaurant. Much rarer to see young couples together, even rarer to see physical affection outside of Mumbai, Delhi or Bangalore... I longed to see an old couple cuddling a bit or a young couple's flirtation. Perhaps my concept of Women's Liberation applies differently here? Does dating make a woman's life complete? Is wearing spaghetti straps a sin? What about the section of middle that the saried-ladies reveal? I so wish I had the opportunity to interact with more Indian women.


(young woman stops by the market on her moped in Ho Chi Minh City)

My father's words echo in my mind -- "it's not weird, it's different." But I find the differences in Vietnam to be more friendly -- where women swiftly package our strawberry shortcake, rent us a bicycle, chat with their girlfriend over a bowl of pho, giggle with boyfriends at a neighborhood bar, sell me a sim card out of her purse on the street, sell us our plane ticket, seat us at a fancy hotel for lunch, usher me into a museum, drive mopeds, wear high heels and shorts, sell waffles and books and knick knacks on the street, smile and wave to me at the markets, tailor our clothes, browse the bookstores; the women here are out in full force . . . I'm happy to chat with our host's neighbor, who invited me to talk on her bench outside her home and tell me all about her favorite places in Vietnam and her job and family - -- this is an event that happened on day 3 here! A casual conversation and interaction that was so powerful and beautiful to me -- and never occurred in the 4 months of living in India.

At the core of the story is a woman's independence -- the ability or the will of a woman to take her girlfriends out and have a good time, do things away from the men in their family just for the sheer fun of it. This is a site I love to see, breathe in and feel with all my heart.


(the author in traditional Indian house dress, Goa, India)

LAST INDIA HIGHLIGHTS

(from left to right: me drawing a guy (on demand!) in Hampi, with a crowd of about 40 people watching, the gang in a weird bar -- NASA -- in Bangalore, Drew and Steph climbing into the conical boat we took to get to monkey temple in Hampi, a group high five from the boat -- super hot and sweaty from our climb to the temple, where I was yelled at heavily by an old Indian lady, apparently I chose the wrong boulder to sit on.)

Our trip across South India via train, with Drew and Steph (D's brother and our sister-in-law), was the tops! They were INCREDIBLE travel-partners-- we laughed, toughed it out, haggled, hiked, ate, marveled, joked, and dined together like kings and queens. There's no way to wrap up a journey like ours in a neat and tidy bow -- it was so FULL of adventure... So I present a few highlights from the road . . .

We ran into many surprises along the way -- relaxation in peaceful Goa, ancient imaginary bussle in the ruin-filled city of Hampi, buzzing in Bangalore and finally all flying out, toasting the new year with chai and samosas in the Chennai airport.

I am eternally grateful for the friendship and added joy of a slice of home in a far-off place.



(Lakshmi, the temple elephant and Dave atop a boulder in magical Hampi on our early morning boulder dance/hike.)


(Steph and I discovered the wonders of a simple tomato soup at Koshy's, an old restaurant in Bangalore where waiters wear white suits and the vibe is very old colonial British/French... Monkeys staring into the sunset at the Stone-Car Temple in Hampi, a pretty flower, and a lovely breakfast at the Mango Tree restaurant, along the river in Hampi -- Steph dined on nutella/banana pancakes and we all had other tropical delights -- for example, I tried pineapple porridge! heavenly.)


Now, we find ourselves in an art palace in Ho Chi Minh City -- which is a whole other story, to be told shortly. Vietnam is blowing my mind with unexpected wonders and delights (hello French pastries)!

THE FRUITS OF INDIA: POMEGRANATE

I have saved the best for last. The pomegranates are perfect here -- ruby red, explosive with juice, shiny, sweet -- in a word, perfect. We manage to eat at least one per day, per person. D likes to smush his beautiful jewels and add yogurt, I like to sprinkle mine all over french toast, cereal or oatmeal, or just eat them by the mouthful while reading a book. It's all so decadent and so colorful. For about 20 Rupees per fruit, they are so extraordinarily cheap compared to the US and so high in quality, it would be a shame to not stuff ourselves while we can. They are perfect. Sublime. And look at the jewels together in the gray-white space. So cute. I love this photo.

AND--

I have an extra bonus treat to share . . . My Mom, renaissance woman, writer, dreamer, swimmer, teacher and tenderhearted lady, has agreed to my posting one of her poems -- It features the bewitching red fruit -- without further adieu.


Fragment found near shopping center excavation
by Cissy S. Ross

I walk with care
around the boundaries of the house,
breaking only my promises.

I watch my husband in the market
and learn to steal from him.
I tend the garden and hide pomegranates,
like red jewels, for myself alone.
I nurse babies and sing softly
for them to disobey.
I am heavy with secrets.

If the other women knew,
would they turn against me?
Would my parents be the first
to pick up stones?

Thanks for sharing in the Indian fruits! We are now in Vietnam, experiencing a whole new palate of produce. And thanks, Mom, for your words.

GUEST POST AT EVER THE NOMAD

An article I wrote about our city in Goa, Panjim, is featured on the travel blog Ever the Nomad today. I'm excited about this piece and the connection made with Anja, the writer/host of the site, a very intrepid traveler herself!

Click the above link to read the article.

THE FRUITS OF INDIA: TANGERINE

Look at this tangerine. It's perfect. The peel comes off in one go, the juice flows tart and sweet, their fragrance is fresh and delightful. I love to eat citrus in the winter time (though there is no trace of the season here) -- and make ornaments with cloves! My parents always had a big box on the counter and I have fond memories of watching movies, with peels and seeds scattered all around us. Tangerines are about 5 rupees each. Not bad!

A tangerine slice to celebrate the new year!

HAPPY NEW YEAR

THE FRUITS OF INDIA: PINEAPPLE

Pineapples here are so sweet, they almost make me change my mind about dessert. Almost always, my feelings on a confection are simple -- if it's not chocolatey, it's not worth eating. My faith in this credo bends in two circumstances -- my Dad's famous pumpkin chiffon pie (it is unreal) and peach/cherry/blackberry pies. Now I have a new amendment: the perfect slice of pineapple. Served on a nice plate, with a knife and fork, the pineapple is elevated to fine dining dessert. And you can get away with that here, even enjoy it (stay with me chocolate fans) because this fruit is so loaded with sugar and dripping with juice, it is the most pineappley tasting pineapple I've ever come across. Sure there can be bruised and imperfect (as seen in photo), but that's part of their real-ness and honesty. Fruit is imperfect and they don't try to sell it to you that way over here, and I love that. For one big ole pineapple, it'll cost you about 20 rupees. That is a deal and a yummy fruit I will forever be thankful for.

THE FRUITS OF INDIA: GUAVA

I must admit, guavas are the fruit I'm least familiar with in India. I see people snacking on them in trains and selling them in markets, but I have yet to hear their swan song. Perhaps because growing up, my parents had a hot tub situated right underneath an abundant pineapple guava tree -- with perfumey flowers with very sweet nectar and tender, sexy, small-seeded fruits. The combination made for a divine afternoon, eating guavas in the jacuzzi with my girl friends. Here, the guavas have harder seeds and not as much flavor. They really shine however, in jam form, served here with toast and in other confections. With all that said, I'm still searching for a perfect fruit and feel I just haven't met my match quite yet. A couple of guavas costs about 5 rupees.

THE FRUITS OF INDIA: LIME

After hinting at the powers of lime on papaya yesterday, I had to feature it today. I'm going to make a bold statement here -- everything is better with lime juice. Well, that's a biggy, but I'd say it's pretty much true. They love lime juice in India -- it's in soda, on fruits, lentils, dosas. It is an awesome compliment to sweets and savories. I love the lime guy at the market too - he's about 10 years old and gives me a grin when we have the same interaction every few days -- I ask for 4 limes and he throws in 1 extra, making a big fuss about his generosity and I thank him profusely. 5 limes costs 20 rupees, and a little squeeze brightens just about any meal.

THE FRUITS OF INDIA: PAPAYA

Here lies perhaps our favorite fruit of India, the sunset-colored papaya. For the four months we've been here, papayas have been in season and available at every cafe, bus station, train stop, market, road-side stand -- or basically any corner, anywhere. I met the wonders of papaya during my first trip to India, when I was recovering from the fact that mango season was in late March-June. I thought my heart belonged to the mango, and it still beats strong -- they're just not here in India during the fall and winter months. That said, a chilled papaya, with a liberal smattering of fresh lime juice, is a succulent and sensual snack. Their orange flesh is almost human and both D and I delight in scraping across the whitish layer on top, giving the fruit a big scar. We are papaya murderers, with our bellies the most avid killers of all. Price check? 30 rupees for two small ones (better for ripening rotation). Blessed papaya season, I will miss you in the cold Pacific Northwest winters of my future.

THE FRUITS OF INDIA: BANANA

Don't laugh too hard at this wee-banana. Here in India, they come in a variety of sizes, but mini is by far my favorite, as shown in this crazy cute post. I have already professed my love of the wee-banana, but it cannot be stated enough -- they're perfectly small, come in a little wrapper (convenient for stuffing in the purse), give me oodles of energy, can be eaten any time of day and they are the perfect mate for my beloved peanut butter. I am bananas for bananas you could say -- there's only one person more of a fiend than I, and that is dear David. He is the king, eating up to 3 or 4 in a day (more proof he is part monkey). Many flavors are found here -- sweet, sour, overly ripe and green. At 20 Rupees for 8, they are a clear winner in budget eating.

THE FRUITS OF INDIA: CHERIMOYA

While we are traveling across South India with our brother and sister-in-law, Andrew and Stephanie, this week between Christmas and New Years (next stop: Vietnam!), I am offering a view into the delicious tropical fruits we've enjoyed in India with a series of fruity posts. Enjoy!

The first in this series is the CHERIMOYA, or "custard apple," as they call it here. These oh-so-sweet beauts remind me of a dinosaur egg or turtle shell. One taste and I was hooked on their pudding-like flowery flesh and smooth black seeds. They are so expensive in Santa Barbara and completely unavailable in Portland, so I am thankful to have eaten about 4 custard apples per week here. At 10 Rupees a piece, we ate with gusto and spit out the seeds on little tea saucers.

PANJIM POOL

(scenes from the Panjim pool -- note all the rules -- they love the rules! and the little golden sandals, so precious.)


We say goodbye to Panjim and the pool in a few days -- swimming was one of my favorite activities while living here. Despite my years at Junior life gaurd camp, I swim slow. I'm like a Southern drawl in the water. The cap they make me wear constricts my head and makes my hair look bad. Dave wears a 60's style Speedo. We laugh and float and conduct diving competitions with each other. My scores run from mid 7s to 8.5, D got a 9.2 one time. But there's really no better feeling than being mid backstroke and watching the crows caw by the dotted clouds, atmospheric humidity hanging low and the sky so big and pink.

LEELA & DAVE'S GREAT ADVENTURES: INDIA

This is fun -- One of my blog posts was published in the Fullerton Observer, as well as one of Dave's new ink paintings. Here's a snippet of the article.

TWIRLING MISSION

(our combined sketches and notes in his beautiful notebook of designs and the small upstairs area where the tailor magic happens)

CHECK!

After being fired by two tailors and shamed by one more, I finally landed in the "Cotton Cottage," on ice cream alley (the street is called something else, but with all the ice cream parlors, that's how D and I refer to the locale). In a last-ditch attempt to actualize my silk dress dreams, I chanced on one more guy . . . I should have known with a name like Shiva that he was going to tear it up-- no not my precious jewel-toned silks, in his amazing sewing skills! Communicating solely through drawings and hand gestures, a miracle occurred and he got it. He was a visionary and made me feel like a princess. It was an awesome last hurrah and I couldn't be happier to get rid of my grungy travel clothes and wear ridiculous dresses while on our journey -- twirling all the while!

SWEET YELLOW SUGAR BOMB

Of all the Indian sweets I've tried -- this sweet yellow sugar bomb is my favorite -- a combination of barfi (condensed milk and sugar, with a fudge-like texture) and jalebi, it resembles a cupcake on acid. The interior cake is soaked and dripping with sugar water and the outside is covered in a milky frosting/fudge substance... It's so sweet, it hurts my head and my teeth -- but it's SO good. Topped with a few almond slivers, silver leaf and a candied cherry, it is a feast for the eyes as well as the tummy. I'm sure it's the smallest thing with the most amount of calories I've ever eaten (D looks at me like a crazy woman when I order one of these) -- but everyday is a work-out in Panjim, what with the bus-riding (abs to hold the body up as it speeds and bumps along the road), walking to and from market to house, carrying home groceries, swimming to escape the heat . . . A girl must indulge!