Quantcast
Channel: Mumbai Magic
Viewing all 133 articles
Browse latest View live
↧

Of temples and food

February 1, 2013, 9:32 pm
$
0
0

- By Deepa Krishnan

I've been doing a lot of food walks lately. Last month I did a Matunga food-walk for the BMW-Guggenheim Foundation, as part of a 3-week Mumbai event that they organised.
At the start of the walk, the organiser from BMW-Guggenheim Lab explains what the  lab is all about
A food walk is, of course, a wonderful way to understand a country. Especially in India, where food is not just a personal dietary preference; but a reflection of a way of life. Our walk began outside the Astika Samaj temple, where I explained to the group how as a Palakkad Brahmin, I have so many  "food memories" associated with the temple. 
The Samaj has been painted afresh as part of a
major kumbhabhishekam ceremony.  But for me, this temple
is more about food than religion :) :)
For me, Astika Samaj will always be associated with their wonderfully dark nei-payasam which our neighbour Moorthy-mami brings us as prasadam (recipe here). Made of ghee, jaggery and rice, the prasadam is a thick gooey delight that leaves you licking your fingers.

I also remember the many feasts I have had here, at thread ceremonies, bangle ceremonies, naming ceremonies and what not. Served on banana leaves, these elaborate multi-course meals are not just about food, but also about an old and established way of doing things. Ammu-patti's blog explains some of my community's food traditions very nicely here.
Typical Iyer saddhi. These days, the jangri (orange-coloured sweet) is  wrapped in plastic so you can put it in your purse rather than waste it! And the meal is served on plastic table cloth  which can be whisked away quickly for the next round of seating. But the steel tumbler remains, thank God :) There is a lot of comfort in knowing that some things don't change!
My cousin's bangle ceremony was held some years ago at Bhajana Samaj, another popular temple in Matunga. 
Ceremony to celebrate the pregnancy and to pray for the health of mother and child. And of course, to eat lots of food!!
During the bangle ceremony, I sneaked into the kitchens to get the early morning bustle as they prepared the morning "tiffin".
Coconut being grated for the chutney and for the sambar. Idlis being removed from the traditional cloth  base (don't see this cloth often these days). Our breakfast was idli, vada, sambar, chutney and sweet pongal. 
After the ceremony we all got to take home some of the delicious 'bakshanam'. I have taken home countless murukkus, laddoos, athirasams, thengoyals and so on from all these family functions!!
A couple of months ago I went to Bhajana Samaj during Diwali. It was buzzing with activity, as they were selling specialty South Indian sweets. They were being cooked "on the spot" and sold. More fun with my camera!!
Super-efficient team of caterer A S Rajashekar. They handled the tasting counter and ordering process smoothly and with a smile. I went with my mom and aunt, we met several other people from our community and had a pleasant time chatting.
Just standing outside these temples brings back so many memories for me. And each time I visit Matunga, meet people I know, taste my traditional food, it adds a new layer of comfort.
↧
Search

Scenes from Worli Fishing Village

March 9, 2013, 3:06 am
$
0
0
- By Deepa Krishnan

Walking through Worli Fishing Village is a bit like stepping into a time-warp. The rest of Mumbai might live in the 21st century, but this part of the city is still not far removed from the sleepy fishing village it once was.
Temple with deep-stambh, old style houses and tulsi plant.
Water is stored in big plastic bins now, instead of wells. 


The colourful boats still remain a visually arresting feature. The old cane baskets are there, but alongside, there are also plastic ones.
The kolins wait every morning for the catch to come in, like they have always done. Except now each woman has a cell phone, and the clothing is more varied. 
The morning ritual outside the homes still includes tulsi puja and rangoli
Spices and chillies are still dried in the sun, and ground to make personalised masalas
This house has a tulsi plant holder shaped like a boat. 
Change has come to this house, you can see a girl's school 
uniform hanging from the clothes line.

The current generation may not all go fishing, 
but the sea remains a constant presence, visible
at the end of  many tiny lanes.
And the boys continue to dive and splash and enjoy themselves, as generations before them always have done. 
Walking through Worli Fishing Village always makes me uncomfortable. On the one hand, I want to see the old traditions continue. On the other hand, there is the villagers' own desire to modernise, to become more like the rest of city. What we need is a strong conservation movement that helps document and preserve old houses and ways of life, but provides room for the aspirations of local inhabitants. I was in Ahmedabad this week, speaking at a training program on heritage management, and there is some excellent work that is being done in that city to revive the inner city areas. We need something similar for Worli. Or soon these little lanes and colourful boats will be things of the past, and glass and concrete will take over this part of the city too.
↧
↧

Mumbai street vendors: khatta tidbits

March 29, 2013, 4:16 am
$
0
0
- By Aishwarya Pramod

The school bell rings one last time signalling the end of classes, and food vendors outside school get ready for a rush of orders. Bhel, frankie, pakora, dabeli, vada pav, bhajiya pav, sandwiches, groundnuts, and singhara are some of what's generally offer, depending on the day of the week and the vendors in the area. And inevitably there is one thela selling amla, kairi, starfruit, bor, imli, and other sour treats.

                                  Schoolgirl at thela
Up until I was about 12, I was a goody-two-shoes who made a beeline for home straight after school - not looking at a single food stall. But a friend of mine who was crazy about kairi eventually began dragging me after school everyday to see whether the thela-wala had come that day. Pretty soon, I was hooked to kairi and amla (with salt and enough red chilli powder to set my tongue on fire). And this was someone who'd never considered herself a fan of anything sour in general.

Here's a picture of kairi (raw mango) slices. The thela (cart) also has groundnuts, and two related kinds of berries (called ber or bor) - a small dark red dried berry, and the larger, brighter Indian jujube.

Here's a larger photo of the same thela - and in between a bunch of saunf (fennel) and a bag of imli (tamarind) pods is a bag full of the small, bright aamla (Indian gooseberry) which I ate in such copious quantities in school. Moving down, there is a bag of bright green karonda (Carissa carandas, a type of dogbane, Wikipedia calls it loftily) - a small fruit which is when raw can be used to make pickles. Below that, there is also a bag of large aamlas, which are typically urer and slightly more bitter than the small ones. I have a bottle of pickled aamla at home, to eat with curd rice.

Of course, it's not just school kids - everyone likes these snacks. 
 
                Check out the food colouring added to the kairi...
...and the six different flavours of imli (tamarind).
Here are some more fruits available on Mumbai streets...


Starfruit and cucumber being sold on Marine Drive.
A closeup of the starfruit with chilli powder and salt.
And here are two I've never tasted. The thela-wala told us that this small yellow fruit is like an extra sour mini-mosambi (sweet lime). On the right are wood apples - he told us its skin was so hard that it needs to be broken with a small hammer.

You can see the handle of the wooden hammer 
he uses to break open the wood apples :)
A college friend's mother was complaining to us about how in her time, after-school snacks meant eating these roadside tidbits, but "kids these days" eat packets of chips and burgers and ice cream. Well, alright, that may be true, but we still love those khatta things too. May these thelas bring happiness to continued generations of school kids!
↧

Kadugumanga - a classic pickle from Kerala

April 16, 2013, 8:32 pm
$
0
0
- By Janaki Krishnan

Alphonso mangoes
at our doorstep
Just as the cuckoo awaits the arrival of spring, every Palakkad Brahmin lady awaits the arrival of the mango season. By March they begin appearing for sale. 

Matunga market is ideal for mangoes, but sweet ripe mangoes are also delivered at our doorstep in Sion. Sweet mangoes have many uses in my cooking  – mango sambar (for which I use the small ones the sellers call raswala, meaning ’juicy’), aamras to eat with puris, and of course Alphonso mangoes to enjoy on their own for their wonderful taste.

But as soon as I find out that mangoes have arrived in the market, one of the first things I do is to look for small green raw mangoes, to make Kadugumanga (‘Kadugu’ – mustard, ‘mangai’ – mango), a classic pickle from Kerala.
Kadugumanga - the No 1 pickle in our family
To be eligible for Kadugumanga pickle, green mangoes have to pass various tests. They must be small, round (about 2-3 centimeters in diameter) and as beautiful as a bride. The mangoes must have their stalks attached, or else they cannot be preserved for long by pickling. Most importantly, the mangoes must be extremely sour!
The right mangoes for kadumanga pickle
The best time to purchase mangoes is early in the morning, or between 3 to 4 pm when the crowds are not yet there in the market. This year, mangoes were sold at Rs.100 a kilo. They are usually sold by 2 and a half kilo measure. 

It is said that all the mangoes in a bottle of Kadugumanga should be from the same tree. Well! I can’t make sure of that, but I do keep careful watch to make sure the seller does not mix different types of mangoes. No dark, elongated mangoes get into my basket of bright, round ones. Also, since I ask for mangoes along with the stalks, the sellers try to give me large bunches of mangoes, where a larger proportion of the bunch’s weight is not fruit, but stalk! I have become wise to this, however, and prefer to pick and pluck individual mangoes from the seller’s pile and add them to mine.

Side-note: Even if you do end up with a few stalk-less mangoes in your basket, never fear. These can always be used to make arachu kalaki (a side-dish that literally translates to ‘ground and mixed’). Arachu kalaki is made by brining the mangoes for a few months in saltwater, and then grinding them (they are by now almost falling apart) with coconut and chillies. Arachu kalaki is especially popular in poorer households – because even if there is not enough money to buy vegetables, the garden compound of every Kerala house usually has coconut and mango trees. 
Instant pickle from
small cut mango

If not arachu kalaki, the offending mangoes can be cut into small pieces to make ready-to-eat fresh manga-kari – a pickle that is regularly featured in marriage feasts during this season. 

Back to Kadugumanga: the entire pickling process takes about 2 weeks. As soon as the mangoes enter the kitchen, they have to be given a good bath. After washing and drying with a towel, the actual operations begin.

The mangoes are placed in a large vessel, and salt is added (1 measure of salt for every 5 measures of mango). When I was young, we bought large salt crystals which my mother cleaned and removed mud from. Nowadays, of course, we get refined salt. A spoonful of turmeric powder is also added for colour. 

I toss the mangoes around in the vessel every day, so that each mango gets coated evenly with salt. After about two days, the mangoes begin to shrink and start to release liquids.
Tossing the mangoes
The stage when it starts to release water
It is only at this stage that the red chili and mustard paste is added. The paste is made by mixing red chilli powder and mustard powder with a little of the mango brine (not pure water). The amount of chilli powder varies from family to family, depending on how spicy you want it. I use the same amount of chillies as salt i.e. 1 measure of chillies for 5 measures of mangoes. I do not add too much mustard powder; about 2 tea-spoons for maybe 2 1/2 kilos of mangoes. In my childhood, we didn't use these powders – my mother ground the red chilies and mustard herself. She did most of the grinding with the back of a thick ladle, with minimal use of her hands – contact with skin was said to spoil the pickle. I wonder why? I’m not sure.

About a week later, comes the day to store the pickle away in a special barani (ceramic jar). Whenever I empty the pickles into this storage jar, I take care to switch on the fan to prevent mosquitoes (and whatever else is in the air) from falling into the pickle – a precaution that my mother used to take. A piece of cloth is tied around the jar’s mouth to keep it airtight, and the lid is placed over it.

One of my Kadugumanga batches this year. 
In a couple of weeks’ time, we begin using the liquid part of the pickle. Young children prefer this spicy liquid to the actual mango, which may be too spicy for them and burn their lips. Elders go for the pieces. The pickle is especially delicious with curd rice. In fact, once this pickle is declared ready to eat, more rice has to be cooked each time as the the entire household demands more! In our house, we also eat the pickle with kozhakattais (modaks), a savoury rice preparation. Every mango season, I make enough Kadugumanga to last an entire year, and also dispatch two large jars to each of my daughters’ households. Currently, we are in the process of finishing up the last remains of last year’s batch, to make room for the new.
Fresh batch made this year.
As it becomes older, it will darken and thicken.
Last year's batch, photographed now
Credits: Text by Janaki Krishnan, with edits by Aishwarya Pramod
Photos: Deepa Krishnan
↧

Whew. A busy Saturday!

May 12, 2013, 1:12 am
$
0
0

- By Deepa Krishnan

I had a breathlessly busy Saturday. It began with a great lunch at Moshe's in Cuffe Parade, followed by a short visit to Ensemble (my friend was looking for Sabyasachi saree), and then returned home to sleep off the effect of the Chilean red we had. 

Dressed up again - luckily found the high heels I had stashed away somewhere - then off to drinks and starters at Busaba in Lower Parel, and then the Karsh Kale show at Blue Frog, where they were launching a new beer called Indus Pride (brewed with spices). Finally went late night snacking at ITC Maratha (awesome selection from the menus at Peshawari and Dakshin). 

(I've put links to all of the above because otherwise I would be doing too many explanations :) with too many adjectives!)

Anyway - I had to kick off the high heels at some point because I simply couldn't walk another step in them. Walked/limped home barefoot from the car and found the house filled with daughter's friends having a slumber party. 

Stumbled into bed, I was *brain dead* by the time I came home, and this inspite of minimal alcohol consumption. The rest of my partners in crime fared worse, since in their bellies, spice beer sloshed around freely mingling with single malts and tequila shots :) :)

Hooboy. All in all, a very nice oh-so-Mumbai evening! A few photos here:
Moshe's at Cuffe Parade. We ordered too many things to list everything here! Washed down with 2 bottles of wine. Ending with gooey chocolate and ice-cream. Divine. As usual I ordered takeaway (olive tapenade and hummus and lavash and a penne dish).
Busaba at Todi Mill Estate, it was quite packed. Looks like Mumbai loves pan-Asian stuff.
We sat at the Busaba bar for a while, and then at a table. We ordered shitaake mushroom maki rolls, gado gado (Indonesian salad) and grilled chicken satay. What's with the totally stark decor and blank walls at Busaba?
Blue Frog, Indus Pride sponsored show. The guy in the blue trousers is Benny Dayal, who has done a lot of playback singing in Tamil cinema. We tried cinnamon and cardamom flavoured beers. It's not a strong flavour, it's quite nice actually.
↧
↧

"Cutting" tea at Lalbaug

June 15, 2013, 1:10 am
$
0
0
This is one of my favourite photos from Lalbaug: it's a local tea shop where we stopped for chai.
"Cutting chaha", tea served by the half-glass. Now at 6 rupees, and please don't even *bother* asking for the tea if you don't have exact change :)
In case you can't read Marathi, here's what the signboard says. "A request: If you don't have the exact change, then check with us *before* you order tea". On the last line of the sign, for regular customers the shop offers a "bank" where change is held in trust - until the next cup.

Attitude + customer service, all in one signboard. Wah re Mumbai! 
↧

Making chaklis on a rainy afternoon

June 28, 2013, 5:25 pm
$
0
0
- By Deepa Krishnan

It's pouring outside, and the plants in my balcony are loving it. The little fern, long dormant, has burst into new fronds, as if to make up for lost time. The money-plant has put out long tendrils and I'm having to twirl it around the holder to keep it from rioting. And my karpooravalli (a kind of Indian oregano) has overgrown its pot; its dark green leaves have grown gleefully giant-sized.
This kind of rainy weather makes me want to curl up with an old Asimov book and masala chai. But it also makes me long for something chat-pata in the afternoons, to go with the tea. 

Yesterday I got it into my head that what I *really* wanted was chakli. Prickly, snacky, crunchy, chakli.

The good thing about being an adult and in charge of your own kitchen (complete with maids) is that every little wish can be translated very quickly into reality. So here we are today, sitting pretty on a fresh batch of chakli. And I've already had 2 cups of tea, just to go with it :)
There are lots of recipes for chakli. You can pretty much make it with any flour you like - rice, wheat, ragi (millet), mung dal, buckwheat, sago, and so on. The typical Maharashtrian chakli is made with a mix of rice, chana dal, urad dal, and rice flakes (poha). These are washed, dry-roasted and ground with spices. The generic term for this kind of roasted flour is bhajani. (from the Marathi verb bhajaney, which means to roast). Chakli bhajani is widely available in grocery stores (and, I am told, also in Indian stores abroad). In Mumbai there are also small specialty shops like this awesome one on Ranade Road:
So really, the easiest way to make super-tasty chakli is to buy the bhajani from the market. We didn't have any, so we just made plain rice flour chakli, flavoured with white sesame (safed til) and carom (ajwain/omam).

The traditional Maharashtrian approach is to steam the bhajani. Me, I just skipped all that and cut to the chase :)
We used rice flour, sesame, carom, salt and a little chilli powder. We used a little hot oil to bind the dough (ghee or butter would have been nicer, I think). We kneaded the chakli with warm water, not cold. And then of course, the dough went into our chakli-press contraption.
I'm not posting a recipe because really, there are hundreds of recipes online. Just do some googling and you'll find lots of options. The good news is that no matter what you do, it will likely turn out ok, as long as you get the salt correct.

I'm now thinking about making batate-chi-chakli. Mashed potatoes with a little refined flour and ghee for binding it, flavoured with cumin and red chilli powder. Deep fried and crunchy. Sounds yummy already :)
↧

In which I learn about farming in Marathwada

July 7, 2013, 8:54 am
$
0
0
- By Deepa Krishnan

I was in the Marathwada region a couple of weeks ago, on a trip to the Ajanta Caves. As you probably know, this area of Maharashtra has been suffering from drought for the last 2 years. So I was really delighted to see that it had been raining! Everywhere we could see farmers ploughing the moist soil with bullocks. 
Beautiful pair of oxen, rich moist soil
The soil was a kind of clayey black (although it looks brownish when freshly tilled). It is very fertile black soil, said to be perfect for cotton.

Most of the farms we saw were small and seemed to be self-cultivated. I was curious about it, so I looked up the Aurangabad Gazette, and found that more than 75% of the farmers cultivate their own land, with the help of family, or by hiring someone to work alongside them. The farmer we saw was working with one helper.
Sowing seeds. When I asked what they were sowing, I found that it was maize.
The farmer's little daughter was playing in the field, running around, and poking the soil. She seemed very absorbed in her game, I wonder what she found :)
Ploughed field with seed bag and sowing vessel, and little kid running around the field
The plough the farmer was using was the standard one-point model, the kind that leaves a single deep furrow. The farmer can carry this kind of plough on his shoulder to work every morning and take it back at night. We did not see a single tractor anywhere, although we drove around for about 2 hours. Maybe it was too early in the planting season for tractors.
The plough has a handle to hold and direct it.
Currently, the kharif crop is being planted. These crops start coming to the market in autumn (harvest goes on from Sep to Dec). In case you didn't know, the word kharif means autumn in Urdu. 

The kharif food crops in this region are wheat, jowar (sorghum/white millet), bajra (pearl millet), maize, green gram, black gram, pigeon peas, and soybean. Jowar and bajra are important food crops, and they are used not only by the farmer's family, but also for providing fodder to livestock. The most important cash crops  (grown only for sale, not for own consumption) in this area are cotton and sugarcane. 

Cotton is primarily sown in the rainy season, and harvested in Sep-Oct. 
In 2006, many farmers in this area began experimenting with Monsanto's BT Cotton, hoping this would increase yields, but this experiment failed for several reasons: high price of the seeds, poor understanding of the crop's requirements (it is unsuitable for areas with poor rainfall or poor irrigation facilities), high price of pesticides and to top it all, drought. The last two years have been terrible. Farmers who planted multiple types of crops, especially grains and pulses with shorter harvesting cycles, have fared better than those who relied only on cotton. 

The government is now looking at a desi solution to the problem, using non-BT seed varieties suggested by Centre for Indian Cotton Research (CICR). Will it work? Trials only started in last year's kharif season, and it is too soon to tell.
"Desi Cotton to the Rescue": See very informative article in Down to Earth magazine
Apart from cotton, the other big crop in this area (and indeed, all of Maharashtra) is sugarcane. There are multiple seasons for planting sugarcane - adsali is planted in the rains, pre-seasonal sugarcane is planted in Oct-Nov, and the suru crop is planted in Jan-Feb. In addition, there is also a ratoon crop, where the farmers use the stubble from the previous crop to grow the next crop. 

Sugarcane is entirely the wrong crop for Marathwada, given the high amount of water it needs. But farmers are attracted to sugarcane because it fetches more money compared to other crops that they can grow on the same field. Also, the presence of a political sugar lobby ensures that it is easier to demand a better Minimum Support Price for sugarcane.  
Farm with square structure in foreground, I assume for holding water.
The Marathwada area is also well known for its citrus fruit crop. The farm that we saw had rows of trees, I presume at least some of them were "mosambi" that the region is famous for.
Can you figure out what these fruit trees are?
Please leave a comment if you know the name.
I hope this is rainy season turns out to be good for Marathwada. Please join me in wishing these farmers a great harvest and joyful days ahead. May they leave these terrible years behind them,
Our tea break overlooking a farm, Aurangabad - Ajanta road
↧
Search

Anda-Pav

July 11, 2013, 3:36 am
$
0
0
- By Deepa Krishnan

Anda-Pav (Baida-Pav) is one of Mumbai's lesser known delights.

I clicked this photo on one of the main thoroughfares in Dharavi, where many people were wolfing down this snack happily.
Anda = Egg, Pav = Bread
Anda is also called Baida.
I think the word Baida has Hyderabadi origins.
It comes in two forms: aamlet-pav (green chillies and onions flavoured omlette, stuffed in a bun) or a tava-fried hard-boiled egg stuffed inside a bun. 

The aamlet-pav is only 5 rupees, making for a great breakfast or evening snack. The hard-boiled egg with pav is 10 rupees. There is a green chutney which goes with it, it is applied inside the pav before placing the egg. 

The pav (bun) is freshly baked in the many local bakeries in the area.

Simple, inexpensive and smashingly tasty. 
↧
↧

Rajabai Clock Tower, Bombay University

July 15, 2013, 10:51 am
$
0
0
- By Deepa Krishnan

I walked through Oval Maidan yesterday, and found the palm trees nodding their heads happily in the rains.

The Rajabai clock tower looked stunning, rising from a canopy of green (click on the photo to see it in large size, it is really gorgeous).
I walked up for a closer look. The tower is part of the Bombay University library, built by the famous Jain philanthropist and businessman, Premchand Roychand. He named the tower after his mother, Rajabai.
It was 6 pm in the evening, and the clock chimes announced the hour. The sound brought a smile to my face as I remembered the story behind the clock. Apparently Madame Rajabai, like all orthodox Jains, would eat her last meal of the day before sunset. Due to failing eyesight, she could not tell the time, so Premchand built her a clock tower, whose chimes could be heard from their house. What a nice story :)

To the left of the tower, I could see the High Court building, squat and solid, exuding an image of reliability. The Oval Maidan looked greener than I have ever seen it. This is really such a beautiful part of the city! 
As you can see from the photo above, I found a nice angle to photograph both monuments together, cleverly avoiding the modern Bombay Stock Exchange building (which otherwise ruins the skyline). If you look carefully, you can see part of the Stock Exchange hidden behind the Rajabai clock tower :D :D

And here's another angle, this time without the clever fiddling. You can see the Stock Exchange building right in the middle: a 1970's structure completely at odds with the other two. Sigh. That was before they had heritage zoning laws. 
The High Court and the University Clock Tower are from the second half of the 1800's, when the major building material was stone. Reinforced concrete only started being used in Mumbai's buildings in the 1900's (although it was first used in Paris in 1853). 

After the plague outbreak at the end of the 1800's, Mumbai began spreading northwards. The availability of concrete was a critical aspect of this northward growth. I've been walking around photographing some great Art Deco buildings in the city...mostly built from the 1940's onwards. I'll post them here sometime soon.
↧

Visiting Belapur's Palm Beach Road (and checking out the mangroves)

July 20, 2013, 10:50 pm
$
0
0
- By Deepa Krishnan

A couple of weeks ago, I went with my sister Roopa to the inauguration of her friend's furniture showroom in Belapur.

After many years doing large corporate contracts and custom work, Roopa's friend Subhangi had finally set up a retail store in CBD Belapur.
Roopa (left) with Subhangi (in saree) 
A retail store - especially with a branded line of home furniture - was a dream come true for Subhangi, and we wanted to congratulate her. In our little Brahmin community, very few people turn entrepreneurs. And as for women entrepreneurs, honestly, I can't even count a handful.

I was pretty pleased to see what a good job Subhangi had done, and how nice the shop looked. Subhangi calls her product line Furnicheer. My sis and I agreed that it was indeed very cheerful, just the sort of thing you need to brighten up a rainy day.
Traditional Indian fabrics, silk and zari, used to add drama to the home
I had not been to Belapur for over 10 years. So it was a complete surprise to see how much the area has changed, especially the upscale Palm Beach Road. Everywhere I looked, there were lots of branded outlets.
These are the shops opposite Furnicheer
Here is another photo from a little further down the road:
There were many restaurants and shops.
Residential colony, just off Palm Beach Road.
There are lots of apartment complexes like these.
In case you are wondering where this Palm Beach Road is, check out this map (click on it to see a larger version). The pink shaded area is CBD Belapur, in Navi Mumbai. Palm Beach is a stretch of road about 10 kilometers long, running parallel to the coast, which takes you to CBD Belapur. To the left of Palm Beach Road is a green belt, this is the coastal mangrove stretch which is critical to Navi Mumbai.
Palm Beach Road runs right along the coast
and then curves into CBD Belapur.
Here's what the road looks like - it has 6 lanes (3 on each side of the road) and no potholes. The western side of the road is parallel to the sea. The eastern side is where most of the buildings are located (many of them offer views of the sea from higher floors).
Grainy photo of Palm Beach Road, from the inside of my car. You can see some of the palms which give this road its name. 
This is what the green belt on the western side looks like:
Typical section of mangrove belt
as seen from Palm Beach Road
The Soonabai Godrej Marine Ecology Centre has published a map of Navi Mumbai's mangroves. You can clearly see the green stretch covering Thane Creek.
The Thane creek area is bordered by mangroves on both sides
The Ministry of Enviroment and Forests has defined Coastal Regulation Zone (CRZ) rules to prevent the destruction of mangroves. However, there are several instances of dumping and encroachment along Palm Beach Road, and there was a news item last month that more than 500 buildings (!!) along Palm Beach Road have not acquired the necessary CRZ clearances. Obviously, the management of this mangrove cover is far from ideal.
This photo is from Alok Bhave's Nature Watch blog, he went to Talawe (which is on Palm Beach road) for a bird-watching session. In the background you can see many of the residential blocks that have come up.
Travelling along the Palm Beach Road, seeing the large scale buildings, malls and shops made me realize the contrast between the natural cover of the land, and the man-made developments that are changing it. The change has both good and bad aspects to it. While we want better roads, better homes, better shops and better infrastructure; we also want these wetlands to remain with us.
This photo is from Ritesh's Birding and Photography blog. It is a group of 100+ flamingoes on Palm Beach Road.
Often people think that the "Save the Mangroves" issue is a conflict between the "greens" versus practical people who want development. But mangroves are not just about birds or pretty scenery - they are a practical necessity, to safeguard Mumbai from land erosion and flooding; to keep the value of our real estate intact. They work as the city's kidneys and lungs, they flush out toxins. The conflict therefore, is really between the immediate/short-term gains of destroying the mangroves for lucrative development projects, versus the long term gains of protecting them.

My position is clear - I want the shops and the homes and the big smooth roads, most definitely. But I really believe this can be done without flouting all kinds of norms. We just need the mindset to look for the right solutions (and more important, the willingness to pay the real cost for these amenities). I am very pleased that there is now media reporting and awareness of these 500+ buildings which have broken the rules. If we have a few high profile cases like this (and the earlier Adarsh scam), I think it will eventually push builders towards a more law-abiding mindset.
↧

The Mystery Man of Bombay

August 3, 2013, 11:00 am
$
0
0
- By Deepa Krishnan

Nearly 350 years ago, the people of Bombay listened to a speech by a man they knew and respected. The speaker, Gerald Aungier, was the Governor of Bombay from 1672 to 1677 and famous for his impartial dealings with both 'natives' and foreigners. 

Mumbai in the 17th century, during Gerald Aungier's time.
It was a very small settlement then.
Very few people in Mumbai today have even heard of Gerald Aungier. But city historians call Aungier the 'Father of Bombay' because he played a major role in the formative years of the city. In fact, I would even say that he was almost single handedly responsible for kick-starting the city's emergence as a great trading centre.

Unfortunately for us, there are no portraits of Aungier, not even any descriptions of what he looked like. We do not know when he was born, or where. We do not know where he studied, or at what age he came to India. So even though he is the founding father of Bombay, he is a Mystery Man to us. 

The only clues we have about Aungier are from his letters and speeches, as well as what other contemporaries wrote about him. The speech that I read gave me my first real glimpse into Aungier's mind. It was delivered by Aungier at the inauguration of the first British Court of Justice in Bombay in 1672. 

In his speech that day, addressing himself to the newly appointed Judge, Aungier said:
"The inhabitants of this island consist of several nations and religions, English, Portuguese and other Christians, Moores and Gentoos, but you, when you sit in this seat of justice and judgment, must look upon them with one single eye as I do, without distinction of nation or religion, for they are all His Majesty's and the Hon'ble Company's subjects as the English are, and have all an equal title and right to justice."

Fine sentiments, and very relevant to the Mumbai of today, don't you think? If this speech had been made by someone else, I might think it was just fancy talk. But I have reason to believe Aungier truly meant what he said - that everyone in the city should get fair treatment under the law. To understand why, we must go back to Aungier's previous experiences in India.

Before coming to Bombay, Aungier was the Governor of Surat, the largest trading centre on the West coast at the time (in fact, the earliest written records we have on Aungier are about his days as Warehouse Keeper in Surat). The Mughals had made Surat their most important port city in Western India, and even established an Imperial mint there. Arab ships called into Surat, so did Portuguese, Dutch, and British ships. To quote the Portuguese trader Duarte Barbosa, Surat was "a city of very great trade in all classes of merchandise". Apart from its famous bazaars, Surat was also the major departure point from India for the Haj to Mecca. 
Panoramic view of Surat, 1672, a Dutch engraving
If you click on the photo, you will be able to see how large and well developed the port city is, especially when compared to Bombay.
Having lived in Surat, Aungier had dealt firsthand with the indigenous business communities of the West coast - Hindus, Jains, Muslims and Parsis. Most importantly, he had handled many political skirmishes between the Marathas and the Mughals; always making sure he stayed neutral. 

His experiences in Surat helped Aungier understand that a successful trading city in India needed to be multicultural and cosmopolitan . No one knew better than Aungier how critical it was for the merchant communities to have peace and order, to have a working system of arbitration and justice, and to prevent religion and politics from coming in the way of business.

I found an interesting photo of some of the communities of Bombay. Although it is from the 1800's it will give you an idea of the kinds of people Aungier invited to Bombay to live and trade.
Hindu and Parsi traders doing business using the closed system of bidding, while their assisstants inspect the goods (in this case, they are inspecting lengths of cloth)
Source: The Graphic, 1870, found on ebay
When Aungier came to Bombay in 1670, he found many complaints about the Deputy Governor Captain Henry Young. He set about investigating and resolving the allegations. Dr. John Fryer, an Englishman employed as Surgeon with the East India Company says "He came and took the Government in 1671, where these three years he has regulated affairs with that prudence that whereas he found a disaffected and incongruous Council, he has now knit them into a bond of at least seeming friendship, and does daily study to advance the Company's interest and the good and safety of the people under him."

By setting up a Court and appointing a Judge, Gerald Aungier laid the foundations of the Indian legal system (in the form in which it exists today). 
Bombay High Court today
Their website describes in detail, the parade and speech 
given by Gerald Aungier
But that was not all Aungier did. He grouped the people of Bombay into communities and set up Panchayats, so that each community could regulate itself. 
The BPP was formed in 1672 and
is still active today, 
see their website here
The British courts were not accessible to the common man, so by initiating these Panchayats, he not only provided access to justice to everyone in the Fort, but more importantly, he ensured that each community took responsibility to maintain good behaviour amongst its members. 

In "The Making of Bombay", author Phiroze Malabari tells us that "Aungier was the author of a series
Bombay Police
somewhere in the 1800's
of reforms" to encourage the growth of the city. This included practical things like better fortifications, the setting up of the Bhandari Militia (the origins of today's Bombay Police), settling land disputes, signing deeds so that people could come to Bombay and be free to practice their own religion, setting up a mint, building a church, hospital and constructing other public buildings. He also negotiated a treaty with Shivaji, to keep Bombay free of Maratha incursions. 

In fact, the amount of work he accomplished in his short 5-year stint in Bombay is actually incredible. During Aungier's tenure the population of the city grew from ten thousand to sixty thousand. No wonder then, that he is called the Father of Bombay.

In 1665, due to failing health, Aungier went back to Surat, but he continued to administer Bombay from there. He died in 1677 and was buried in Surat, in the same garden area where his predecessor George Oxenden as well as several other Englishmen were buried. 

Unfortunately, no one knows exactly which monument is Aungier's grave. In death, as in life, he remains a Mystery Man.
English Cemetery in Surat, photo sourced from here.
Aungier is somewhere buried in one of these grand tombs...
↧

Bazaar treasures - Monsoon special (1)

August 10, 2013, 10:27 am
$
0
0
- By Deepa Krishnan

It is the monsoon season now, and every time I go to the markets, I see some seasonal specialty. Some of them are available in other seasons too, but right now they are extra nice and fresh. Since many of these monsoon treasures may disappear in October, I clicked some photos. 

The first photo below is of the teasel gourd; the Bengalis call it kakrol and the Gujaratis kantola. It is available in large sizes in the monsoon. Doesn't the photo look like a lot of little mice and their tails? :) :) If you haven't tasted it yet, then try it this monsoon! It's a bit like a karela, but without the bitterness. You can make a simple sabzi with it (just slice it, add salt and red chilli powder and fry it), or you can make a stuffed version with masalas inside. 
The Teasel Gourd or Kantola
This year in the market I noticed for the first time, a pale green whitish okra (ladies finger, bhindi). It is much larger than the dark green ones, in fact, in one shop it was almost twice the size. When I asked the vendor about it, he said that it is less sticky than the dark ones. I first thought it was some new-fangled hybrid, but on further questioning the vendors, it looked like this is a traditional seasonal veggie. Among Gujaratis, it is cooked for a particular fast during the Ganpati festival. I'm told even when cooked, it doesn't become as soft as the regular bhindi. Have you tried this bhindi? Do you know more about it?
White ladies finger
Here's a fruit that I don't cook at all. Breadfruit is found in Kerala cuisine, as well as the cuisine of the Konkan coast. The Malayalis call it kadachakka, and if you search online you will find several recipes for it. I've seen a recipe from Karnataka, where breadfruit is sliced, rubbed with tamarind paste, chillies and salt, and after about 5-10 minutes, it is coated with powdered rice batter and fried. I'm tempted to buy it on my next market visit! 
Breadfruit (no it is not raw jackfruit)
These days there are lots of colocasia leaves in the market. Who doesn't love them, fried or steamed into patra and vadi? In the monsoon you see these appear in more frequency, with the leaves dripping rainwater. It is hard to resist the lure! The outer pale grey of the leaves repels water. If you go to Matunga, elderly Gujju ladies can be seen in pale cotton sarees haggling with vendors and giving them a tough time :)
Colocasia leaves
In the monsoon we sometimes get a kind of chives in the market. It resembles spring onion or garlic, but it is distinctly different and even a little bitter. The local names for this vegetable are phodshi or kuli, and it makes for good pakodas. The big difference from garlic or spring onion is that with kuli/phodshi, we do not use the white roots. Also there is a thin stem in the blades which needs to be removed. Not available in any other part of the year.
Kuli / Phodshi
Another vegetable you see a lot in the monsoons is chow-chow or chu-chu, which the Kannadigas call seemey badnekayi. In South Indian cooking it is used to make kootu. The Bengalis temper it with panch-phoron and bayleaf, and sometimes add a little milk, to make a sort of side-dish. In Shillong it grows abundantly in the backyards, and is cooked along with meat.
Chayote / pear squash / chow chow / chu chu
Here's another interesting find from the monsoon season: Brahmi leaves. This is a small leaf, shaped like the ear of a mouse. It has huge medicinal benefits, you'll find it if you just google it. You can make a chutney with it, with coconut, tamarind and green chillies. Or make hair oil with it. In Tamil it is called vellarai keerai. Konkanis call it ekpanni, because there is only one leaf at the end of the stem. I think even in Kannada it's called ondelaga (one-leaf). Do you use it? What do you make with it?
Brahmi Leaves
There are still several more monsoon delights, but it is late now and I better stop blogging! We are off to a trek early morning tomorrow in the hills nearby. I'll come back and post the next instalment of monsoon specials!
↧
↧

Bazaar Treasures - Monsoon Special (2)

August 14, 2013, 4:30 am
$
0
0
- By Deepa Krishnan

I promised a second instalment of special monsoon veggies and fruits, so here they are! The bazaars are very exciting these days, and I am enjoying walking around with my camera.

Have you seen all the gorgeous fresh dates in the market yet? They come in two colours, red and golden. I cajoled some vendors into giving me some to taste. Delightful! 
Red kharak / Dates
Yellow kharak; just as sweet as red
I also saw lots of tender bamboo shoots in the market the other day. "Who buys this from you?" I asked the shop keeper. "Manglur-wale", he answered. The Konkanis and Mangaloreans who shop in Matunga for beautiful coral and gold necklaces also shop for keerla (bamboo shoots) which is a rainy season delicacy. The outer layers are cut and the tender white inner portions are soaked in water, usually for 3 days. Each day the water is thrown out and fresh water is added. 

The cleaned shoots are then used in multiple ways. Some of it is kept in salt water for later use during the year, usually cut into discs. Some of it is cooked as dry curry or wet curry and eaten (usually with rice and some kind of dal). Usually tamarind, coconut, red chillies, onion are used in preparing the dish.
Tender Bamboo Shoots / Keerla
In the rainy season, vazhapoo, the banana flower, is back on the tables of South Indian homes. The banana flower is usually left to ripen as it holds the potential for huge bunches of the fruit within. But heavy rains and strong winds sometimes force huge single clusters free from the main plant.

In the earlier days, families that owned abundant land had hordes of banana plants in the courtyard and these fallen fruits were treated as 'poor man's food'. Times have changed and family courtyards in the south now may hold just a few of the plant or if they’ve moved to cities, none. Today, the flower is a delicacy.
Banana Flower / Vazhapoo
There are also lots of fresh water chestnuts in the market these days. I don't eat them, but my friends tell me you can just peel and eat them fresh. They certainly look very green and fresh. I have had them smoked / roasted over a coal fire.
Singhada, water chestnut
There are lots of other things in the market too. Fresh corn is in plentiful supply. 
Fresh maize / corn / bhutta
Tapioca also has made a big appearance, after not being available much in summer. Malayali hearts must the rejoicing at least a little bit :)
Tapioca / Kaappa
And - since it is Shravan - there is also wheatgrass, for the keeping of "vrats". I don't think I'll ever comprehend these religious observances, but the wheatgrass looks fantastic, doesn't it? Does anyone have a recipe for me to try eating this? It is very healthy I am sure.
Wheatgrass / Gehun
Here's the wheat, germinating. I'm guessing this is just regular wheat, the sort that we make rotis with? How do you get it to germinate at home?
Early stage in the growth of wheatgrass
I hope you've enjoyed looking at all the photos :) In case you are wondering where I clicked all these, they are from Bhuleshwar and Matunga. There's so much variety in the market that I want to keep going and discovering more stuff. And there is so much to learn, about different cuisines and cultures. Anyone who wants to join me is welcome, but remember to bring a sturdy shopping bag!

For those who want to see the previous entry with more monsoon treasures: here is the link: http://www.mumbai-magic.blogspot.in/2013/08/bazaar-treasures-monsoon-special-1.html
↧

A beautiful trip to Bedse Caves

August 28, 2013, 9:48 pm
$
0
0
- By Deepa Krishnan

Ever since the monsoon season started, I have been wanting to see the Western Ghats in all their green glory. Finally we found the time, a perfect day, half sunny, half cloudy, and we set out for the Buddhist Caves at Bedse. 
The mountains ahead of us
(super exciting!)
Most people living in Bombay don't know that the spread of Buddhism on the West Coast of India began in the Mumbai Metropolitan Region; in what we today call Nallasopara (the next train station on the Western line immediately after Vasai). The Mauryan Emperor Ashoka (273 to 276 BC) sent an emissary called Dharmarakshita to Sopara (it was at that time major trading port). Ashoka's Edict at Sopara is now in the Prince of Wales Museum, but you can see a photo and translation of the edict here. 

The Buddhist monks found the perpendicular cliffs of the Sahyadris eminently suitable for their monsoon prayer retreats. What may have started as a small rock-excavation experiment of the monks turned into a very major architectural trend, with over 1200 cave temples excavated in India. Of these, 800 are in Western India, and thankfully for Mumbaikars, several of them are very close to Mumbai.

With about 2 hours of drive (from Sion), we made it to Bedse. On the way, we saw several waterfalls, and the mountains clouded in beautiful mist. Once we cleared Kamshet and turned off into the rural areas, we were in for a visual treat. Everything was green and moist, with countless small waterfalls. It was very quiet, with no traffic noise. There were cowherds everywhere, keeping an eye on cattle. Women of the villages walked by the side of the road, fetching water and washing clothes. The road went right upto the base of the caves; although it was narrow and could take only one car at a time. 
Rural scenes and first view of Bedse Caves
(the caves are midway up this low hill,
between two waterfalls)
From the base of the hill, there are 450 steps up, to reach the caves. The climb is spectacular, green, inviting, with beautiful views. You can stop every now and then to catch your breath and admire the scenery. I got my first very beautiful photo of a little frog, who was perhaps frightened into stillness by our proximity.
Steps with lots of space to rest.
They were slippery in the rain.
Once we huffed and pufed our way to the top, we got our first proper glimpse of the cave entrance: a grand pillar half-hidden by the rock. It lay to our right, inviting us in. To our left was a small stupa, and near the stupa were the underground water cisterns, cleverly designed to store drinking water all through the year. We walked into the pillared entrance, and found some stunning carvings waiting for us. 
Because we went early, we had the entire place to ourselves (awesome!).
The earliest Buddhist caves in the Deccan belong to the Hinayana faith, and were excavated between 2 BC and 2 AD. Bedse, along with its neighbours Karle (Karla) and Bhaja, belong to this early phase. The primary enabling factor was the rise of the Satavaahanas, a dynasty that practised Brahmanism (a Vedic religion which was a predecessor of modern-day Hinduism). The Satavaahanas brought peace and prosperity to the Deccan; it was a period of flourishing trade with the Mediterranean as well as with other parts of India. The Satavaahana kings seem to have been perfectly happy to let Buddhism flourish. Maybe the lines of division between various sects were not as sharply defined as they are today; or maybe they were secular leaders. Or maybe the Brahmins did not perceive these monks as any sort of threat to their way of life. Who knows?

We entered through the pillared portico, and saw a beautiful chaitya-griha (prayer hall) of the Hinayana style. 
Chaitya-griha (left) and pillar outside
Here are the typical characteristics of a chaitya-griha in Buddhist rock-cut architecture: you can see ALL of them in the chaitya above.
  • First, the typical chaitya is apsidal in plan. Apsidal means that the altar end of the chaitya is curved in a semi-circular fashion. In Buddhist chaitya-grihas, you have a long rectangular main body, with an apse at the end.
  • Second, the roof is usually entirely barrel-vaulted from end to end. In fact, I have not seen any Buddhist chaitya without a vaulted roof.
  • Third, the nave (the main central part of the chaitya) and the sides are clearly defined through a series of pillars. 
  • Fourth, there is a stupa (containing sacred relics, usually ashes of monks) at the remote end of the nave. 
  • Fifth, if a chaitya-griha belongs to the Hinayana period, you will not see carved images of the Buddha (this is why I simply LOVED the caves at Bedse, not a single Buddha figure anywhere, stark, simple, a place of meditation and prayer, a philosophy rather than a cult, and a true reflection of Buddhism as the Buddha conceived it).
There are more reasons why Bedse is the perfect specimen of a Hinayana settlement. In determining the chronology of rock-cut caves, architects usually look at how closely the features tend to copy wooden prototypes. The older a chaitya-griha is, the more likely it is to have wood-like carvings and features, including grilled lattice-work windows. I was delighted to find all of these at Bedse.
Typical Hinayana architecture
Apart from the chaitya, there is yet another cave in Bedse, this one is a "sanghaaraama". This word means "resting place of the Sangha". Often the word vihaara is used instead of sanghaarama, but really a vihaara is more like a monastic settlement, than a single resting place. The typical sanghaarama or vihaara has two architectural features, both of which are perfectly illustrated in Bedse. There is usually a central hall; with flanking residential cells. The hall may be square or curved. At Bedse, our guide Dahibhate showed us a series of 12 cells. One of them had a rock window to peer out into the world; perhaps the ancient equivalent of the "corner office" with the view :)  
Sanghaarama/vihaara with rock window and residential cells.
We had to walk through a mini-waterfall to enter.
You don't have to be a fan of Buddhist caves to enjoy Bedse. If you go in the monsoon season, the views and the greenery are reward enough; and the exercise is good for all us city-bred folks. It is super-romantic as well :)
The Sahyadris are truly a treasure, they are my escape when I want to get drunk on the beauty of nature. So close to Mumbai, and so accessible! Especially in the monsoons, there are so many waterfalls everywhere and so many things to see. Bedse Village at the base of the mountains has a lot of rice farming going on and it's fun to walk through the narrow road that goes through the village (I like to make-believe that I am a farmer, OK, I know that is stupid!).

But seriously, don't wait for the "right" day, don't let the weather or work or the daily grind get to you this monsoon season. Take a day - you need just half a day, really - and go out to the mountains. They are there, waiting for you...go today if you can!
↧
Search

A wedding (and cool biryani!) at Chamda Bazaar

September 18, 2013, 5:14 am
$
0
0
-by Aishwarya Pramod

Recently my mother and I attended a wedding reception at Chamda Bazaar (in Dharavi). The bride was the sister of Fahim, one of my mother's colleagues.

A three-storeyed hall had been booked, with the men on the ground floor, women on the middle storey and the dining room on the top floor. The actual nikaah ceremony was over by the time we reached, so Fahim took us upstairs to join the social gathering that follows the ceremony. 

The hall buzzed with the conversation of women and the shouts of children running about. We made our way towards the bride. 
Fahim's family was extremely nice and welcoming. I muttered some inane greetings, grinned foolishly at everyone and then took to lurking behind my mother.
We were soon called to have dinner, which I was really looking forward to. The dining room had about ten tables, each seating around eight people. Each table had a single large platter of mutton biryani, accompanied by a large bowl of raita. Our table was also given a vegetarian biryani. The food was supplied by a professional caterer but it was Fahim's friends who welcomed the guests, filled the platters and made sure that the khaatirdaari was perfect.
Apart from us, some of Fahim's relatives were also vegetarian as they had lived in Gujarat their whole lives. For dessert there was doodhi ka halwa, which I hadn't tasted before and was very good. My mother took small to moderate helpings of everything (repressed, I call it :P). I, on the other hand, heaped generous quantities onto my plate and felt glad my salwar was tied loosely.

Here's a closer look at the food: 
As far as I can remember, this is the first time I've eaten biryani at a wedding. Most weddings I've attended have been South Indian ones with long tables and banana leaves. Sharing dishes at a table was new, and so was being served by Fahim's friends instead of professional caterers. It felt really nice to be taken care of in that way. All in all I'm really glad I got to attend a kind of wedding that I'd never been to before.

The professionalization of wedding catering in Mumbai is relatively recent. It has only happened in the last couple of generations. At my grandmother's wedding, food was served by her uncles. But most of that stopped before I was born, and professionals took over all the arrangements. My grandmother's probably relieved that someone else is doing all that arduous cooking now!
↧

Why I love Navratri season

October 10, 2013, 10:08 am
$
0
0
- By Janaki Krishnan

For youngsters, Navratri is a time of dance and merriment, through playing dandiya with friends and loved ones. It is said that at the end of the nine nights, young people end up finding the perfect life partner. For older people, Navratri is a time to show their devotion through prayer and fasting. I don't fall into either of these categories, because I can neither dance nor fast!

But I still love Navratri. When I was in school, our house would host Navratri celebrations. My sister and I would go round inviting other South Indian ladies in Matunga for vettalai pakku (pan supari). 
Navratri 'golu' display at 
Dr. Jayashree Rajagopalan's house
When we visited other houses to see their 'golu' displays, the lady of the house would ask us to sing a song for Devi before giving us prasad. My sister, a good Carnatic singer, would use every opportunity to show her skill, while I was more interested in the packets of prasad. 
My sister and I
(she is wearing blue, I am in red)
I would open the prasad eagerly as soon as we got home. Usually it would contain various types of chundal (boiled chickpeas and pulses of various types, sauteed and garnished in many ways). 

We would prefer to go visiting people on Tuesdays and Fridays, when the prasad would be sweet! Kozhakattai, shira, neiappam, these were all wonderful delights to look forward to.

Today at eighty years, I find that while my hearing, sense of smell and sight have deteriorated, my sense of taste has only become sharper! When I was working I never had any time to do anything; but retirement has given me all the time in the world. I intend to do full justice to it, and to my taste buds!
One of the many delights of Navratri: White chana chundal, with red chilli, mustard, curry leaves and fresh grated coconut
Kozhakattai, with jaggery and coconut stuffing
These days, apart from the prasad, I also enjoy the various gifts that I get during Navratri when I visit friends and family. I now have at least a dozen coconuts to last me for a whole month! And innumerable blouse-pieces to match all sorts of sarees. Here is a photo of all the things I got this season: steel dabbas of various sizes, plates, bowls, shopping bags, handbags, and sarees. 
Now do you see why I love this festival? 
Article by Janaki Krishnan; Photos by Deepa Krishnan; Inputs/edits by Aishwarya Pramod
↧
↧

Festival season at Kumbharwada, Dharavi

October 20, 2013, 9:18 am
$
0
0
- by Deepa Krishnan

With Diwali around the corner, the kilns at Kumbharwada are going non-stop. If you go now, you will see women and men working round the clock, selling the diyas and decorative pots that have been made specially for the festive season. 

I went on Saturday. Here is what I found:
With every available open space taken up, these diyas were being dried on top of a taxi
Large quantities of standard type diyas were being filled
into gunny bags and loaded into trucks for
sending to other parts of the city
      
They were being given a last wash in geru (red colour) and dried before packing.
Decorative diyas had been made using fancy moulds.
Some of them were ceramic as well.
I found a girl deftly painting designs with acrylic paint.
She was super-quick and efficient.
Her mother sat nearby doing the base colours.
They made a pretty picture, lined up in a row
Women managing the shop.
Behind the shop is the home and the kitchen.
And behind that is the workshop and kiln.
Purchase transaction in progress
Every visit to Kumbharwada teaches me the importance of cottage industries. When work and home location are combined, women become active participants in production. The separation of work and home, aka "industrialisation" is simply not set up with women's inclusion in mind. If you want to read Gandhi's views on the subject, they are here.

This is what I bought for myself:
The larger diya will go in the centre of my Diwali rangoli
There is something special about going to the source of a product and buying it directly from the community. To be able to do that in an urban environment like Mumbai is something even more special. Go visit Kumbharwada, buy some stuff!

Kumbharwada is really easy to get to. With Sion railway station on your right, walk towards Bandra. The first big left you see is called 90-Feet Road. About 500 meters down this road is Kumbharwada (on your left). http://goo.gl/maps/rvQDm
↧

Bhelwalla at Horniman Circle

October 26, 2013, 11:25 pm
$
0
0
- By Deepa Krishnan

Bhelpuri is a great leveller. I clicked this photo at Horniman Circle, at the heart of the financial district.
This bhelwalla has bankers and moneymakers queuing up for chana and bhel, alongside courier boys and labourers.
The new Starbucks is just across the street from the bhelwalla.
Inside Starbucks, it's a completely different world. I spotted SoBo teenagers doing a group-study thing, over expensive lattes, with fancy cell phones nearby. There were groups of foreigners with ipads and laptops. A security guard / doorman stood outside. It was a little upscale haven where the real world couldn't rudely intrude.
↧

In which a little bit of Greece comes to Mumbai

November 9, 2013, 10:45 pm
$
0
0
- By Deepa Krishnan

In 2007, before the era where food shows took over Indian television, I went to a little village called Zaros in the island of Crete. 

We stayed at Studios Keramos, a small B&B, where our hostess Katerina was famous for her fantastic breakfasts. She made fresh bread for us every morning, and also all kinds of other Greek peasant-style baked treats. 

I peeped into her kitchen, saw her old oven, and fell in love with the idea of baking. 

It was alien to me, this whole thing about ovens. I had seen clay tandoors in India, with naans being stuck to the sides. But Katerina's kitchen was my first look at a 'proper' oven. 

It seemed like magic. Ordinary dough, transformed into pies with savoury and sweet fillings - how amazing it was! Sarikopita, spanakopita, kalitsounia...Katerina would pull all these Cretan specialties out of the oven, brown and delicious. To add to my delight, many were vegetarian, reflecting the abundant greens grown in the local farms. The typical breakfast table had some 15 baked goodies, absolutely stunning. 
But it was bread, plain bread, that caught my fancy. Fresh and warm, straight out of the oven, eaten with loads of butter, olive oil, feta and salad. 

I've been wanting to bake my own bread ever since I first ate Katerina's bread in 2007. But you know how it is. These thoughts are fleeting, and you rarely have time in your busy career to do anything about it.

The biggest problem was yeast, which is a smelly, ugly fungus, with a rotting odour that makes you wonder why you ever thought of baking anything. It's not something I am familiar with, and I didn't have the necessary initiative to go find it and tread into unfamiliar terrain. 

Then as luck would have it, I happened to find dried yeast at the food store at the Mumbai airport, when I went to pickup my in-laws who were visiting for Diwali. I plonked 350 rupees on the counter and brought it home. And finally this week, I took my first stab at baking. 

Here is the result - my first attempt at baking yesterday (which I converted into bruschetta), and my second one today (which is garnished with sesame and still whole). 
It's not as if this is a stupendous achievement, but after years of eating store-bought white bread, and having to depend on bakeries in Bandra and Colaba for better stuff, it is great to be able to bake my own bread.

More importantly, whenever I do something new, I feel good. Today it was the beauty of baking that gave me creative joy. But whether it is baking or snorkelling or climbing a mountain, I want my life to have a sense of newness and wonder all the time. I never want to be a bored, cranky, negative person who wonders how to get through the day.

In fact, I think the secret to happiness is always having many new "firsts", all through life. I hope I can keep myself open to new things, so that I never lose the joy of living. 

I think I will be baking some more. And I have Katerina to thank for it :) :)

By the way, she doesn't speak a word of English. It was all hand gestures and smiles. When we left the B&B, she gifted us her famous herbed tea, it was a bunch of wild herbs from the Cretan countryside. Aishwarya's journey into herbed tea began with Katerina's wild herbs :) And Katerina also gifted my husband a bottle of raki.

When people talk about travel and how it brings strangers closer, I always think about Katerina and how she introduced me to herbed tea and baking.
↧
Viewing all 133 articles
Browse latest View live
Search