the aam junta

Mango mania in India

Here is an idea to spice up a dull summer morning: find two Indians, put them together in a room and ask for their opinion on the best mango in India. Leave them a while, then bring in two more. Sit back and watch the fun.

Indians may agree on other things, on rare occasions, even on politics. But when it comes to the mango, there is no consensus. Regional loyalties, specific preferences for taste and texture, seasonal specialties; the argumentative Indian is at his fiercest while discussing mangoes (and cricket, of course).

India takes the mango very seriously; come summer and newspapers discuss their arrival in the market with more animation than even the skyrocketing price of onions (a perennially favourite theme), neighbours inquire about mango purchase plans for the season and the streets are filled with the sight and smell of this luscious fruit, which is now coming into season.

Naturally, the colour of summer in India is yellow. Not the scorching breezeless yellow of the afternoon heat that saps all energy, but the mild, golden yellow of mango, one of the (few) things that makes summer in India bearable. The highlight of summer evenings in many homes is the aamras (mango puree), eaten with hot roti (wheat flatbread), a uniquely Indian food foible from the north that is popular right across the country.

Rajesh Gowda has been a fruit seller at the Gandhi Market in Bangalore for 40 years. Over the decades, he has seen mango prices soar, even as newer varieties enter the market each year. For Gowda, the four months that constitute mango season are usually the most profitable of the year.

“A kilo of mangoes that used to sell for 20 rupees 10 years ago now sells for 200 rupees [HK$35], but people have not stopped buying,” he says, happily adding, “I have customers who buy 20kg every week.”

Pinky Padmaraj, communications manager at the Oberoi Hotel in Bangalore, recalls how a guest from Denmark responded on tasting his first fresh mango juice: “So this is what the nectar of life tastes like.” Unsurprisingly, the visitor became a mango lover and ended up sampling every mango dish on the menu.

Indian mangophiles will agree, however, that the enjoyment of mangoes involves complete abandon and close attention, so it is best to leave your spoons and knives behind along with your inhibitions; the messier the eating, the merrier the experience. The best fruit are golden yellow skinned, some speckles of red acceptable, but no trace of green, please. The green indicates rawness; tart and crunchy, it is ideal for pickles, to be stored and savoured through the year. The green mangoes are also squeezed into a juice with caramelised sugar and a dash of cumin powder, called aam panna, which is believed to have cooling properties.

The maharaja of Indian mangoes is undoubtedly Kalimullah Khan, a farmer from Malihabad near Lucknow in northern India, who at one stroke paid tribute to two national obsessions by naming his new breed of mango Maestro Sachin (after cricketer Sachin Tendulkar). He has been cultivating mangoes since 1957 and has been awarded one of the highest civilian honours in India, the Padma Shri, for his successful experimental tree that can bear more than 300 varieties of mango
(through clever and careful grafting).

Different parts of India host mango festivals through the season, the most famous of them being the three-day festival in New Delhi every summer – this year held in the first week of July. Mango cultivators from across the country are invited to offer their produce for visitors to sample and buy. The other attractions are fun events such as mango-eating competitions, quizzes and, finally, the presence of chefs from five-star hotels demonstrating novel mango recipes

The Ranga Shankara Theatre in Bangalore, apart from regular plays and theatre festivals, hosts an informal mango party in June. Ruhi Jhunjhunwala, from the theatre, says the party is a nod to the belief that the enjoyment of mangoes in India is as much a social event as a personal experience: “We wanted it to be the way it is at home, where families and friends sit together and enjoy mangoes during season.” The only condition for attendance – that guests bring a kilogram of mangoes of their choice, add it to the common pool and then dig into as many as they want for as long as they choose.

The Indian love for mango has had a significant place in Indian history and mythology; the fruit is believed to have been mentioned in Hindu scriptures as early as 4000BC. Its shape has been a popular motif (paisley) in traditional apparel and has made a smooth transition into contemporary fashion. In this case it is the sinuous curve – teardrop with a curved end – and not the colour that is the highlight. Mango leaves are considered auspicious and strung outside doors during festivals and occasions. In everyday cooking, a powder of dried mango (called aamchur) is used in place of tamarind as a flavouring agent.

Amir Khusrau, a 13th-century Sufi poet, paid tribute to the mango in his own way:
The choicest fruit of Hindustan, For garden’s pride the mango is sought; Ere ripe, other fruits to cut we ban, But mango serves us ripe or not.

A few juicy facts worth knowing

When: The peak season for mangoes is from mid-April to the end of June, although mangoes are available throughout the year at some premium supermarkets in fresh, frozen or canned form. A month before the appearance of yellow mangoes in the market is the pickle season, when the green varieties are widely available.

Where: Famous mango markets include Ratnagiri, (also a beautiful coastal town), Hyderabad (of the exquisite Charminar tower and glass bangles) and Lucknow. The freshest and juiciest mangoes anywhere are found with the street vendors or in wholesale markets such as Crawford Market in Mumbai or the City Market in Bangalore.

What: Alphonso (Hapoos), Neelam, Banganapalli, Totapuri, Mallika, Malgova, Himsagar, Kesar and Langra are some of the most popular varieties. Champions of the Alphonso variety may be surprised to learn that this “king of mangoes”, as they call it, is not indigenous to India but was brought in by Portuguese nobleman Afonso de Albuquerque on one of his trips to Goa.

How: Mangoes are consumed in as many ways as possible in India – the common choices are ice creams, juices, milk shakes, lassi (mango beaten with yoghurt), fresh fruit, aamras and aam panna, while the more glamorous offerings include mousse, tarts, cheesecakes, martinis and margaritas.

***
Originally published in the South China Morning Post, April 2011

TeaPot_Kochi

India’s best tea cafes

Here is something I wrote for Conde Nast Traveller a few months ago – seeing how tea is making a sudden reappearance on this blog, have posted it here…

India seems to have rediscovered its love for tea. After a spate of coffee shops in the last ten years, it is now time for tea cafés—also called tea lounges or tea bars. These cafés manage to keep the focus on tea while still pulling in coffee lovers with their food; from short eats like sandwiches and brownies to meals of salad and pasta. And unlike coffee shops which are typically patronised by the young and the restless, tea cafés attract people of all ages who seek the peace and comfort on offer. Here’s Condé Nast Traveller’s pick of the five best tea lounges across India:

Tea Centre, Mumbai

The first among equals here must be Mumbai’s Tea Centre. Everything here from the muted décor to the little bells on the table for summoning waiters spells only one thing—old world charm. As you enter through the glass door, you leave behind the heat and noise of Mumbai; inside the Tea Centre, all is cool and quiet. Go there for breakfast, lunch, dinner, or just an any-time cuppa with French fries on the side, for the food here is as enticing as the tea. And be ready to be adventurous with your choice of tea: our recommendations are the apple butter tea (hot) and the orange tea (iced).

Tea Centre, Resham Bhavan, Veer Nariman Road, near Churchgate, Mumbai (+91 22 2281 9142)

Infinitea

Bengaluru with its strong coffee culture is also home to many tea cafés, Infinitea being one of the best. Located on busy Cunningham Road, this café offers over 50 varieties of tea since 2003. There are all the usual suspects like iced tea and masala chai as well as unusual ones like white tea, once the drink of the Chinese nobility or the Stupa, a tightly closed bud that blooms, infusing its flavour inside the cup of hot water. The interiors of the restaurant too reflect a passion for tea, with cheerful photographs and posters on the walls depicting different moods and ideas associated with the drink.

Infinitea, Cunningham Road, Bengaluru (+91 80 4114 8428; www.infinitea.in)

Teapot Café

Further down South is the Teapot Café in Fort Kochi, themed entirely around the beverage. Here, even the clocks tell tea time (all numerals are replaced with the letter T). The highlight of the main room is the large centre table with a tea bush six feet in diameter as the base. Most tables are made of tea chests and proudly proclaim ‘Produce of India’ while the quirky sketches on yellow walls complement the larger motif. There are also over a hundred different types of tea pots and kettles on display. Teapot Café is popular with both domestic travellers and foreigners who, along with their tea, like to tuck into some delicious Kerala aapam with stew.

Teapot Café, Peter Celli Street, Fort Kochi, Kochi (+ 91 484 221 8035)

Dolly’s Tea Shop

In the tea friendly East, Dolly’s Tea Shop in Kolkata is the place to head to, for the finest Darjeeling varieties. This place is also great for people-watching, located as it is in the middle of a popular market. This tea café is the brainchild of Dolly Roy, India’s first woman tea taster and an acknowledged connoisseur of the beverage. Dolly’s is a small place but with the relaxed atmosphere of any venerable Kolkata adda (hang-out).

Dolly’s Tea Shop, Dakshinapan Shopping Center, Gariahat Road, Kolkata (+91 33 2422 0772)

Cha Bar

Then there is Cha Bar, inside—and part of—the Oxford Book Store in various cities across India. Sip on your favourite tea—you can choose from 86 types of Indian and international teas—as you take a break from browsing through books. This café, started in 2003, is owned by the Apeejay Group, one of the world’s largest producers of tea.

Oxford Book Store is in Kolkata, Mumbai, Bengaluru, Delhi and Chennai (www.oxfordbookstore.com)

Breakfast in Bangalore – 4

Remember my Breakfast in Bangalore series? 1, 2, 3. So this time, another Bangalore institution – Koshy’s (and not least because it has its own Wikipedia entry).

Bangalore Burrp gives it four stars, various assorted websites call it the ‘pride of Bangalore’, youtube videos sing its praises and Wikipedia claims that dignitaries like Prime Minister Jawaharlal Nehru, Nikita Khrushchev and Queen Elizabeth II have dined there. (Well, it also claims that Koshy’s won MTV’s award for the Most Stylish Place in Bangalore. Um, really?). However, Wikipedia does get this bit right – Koshy’s is a very popular restaurant and hangout on St Mark’s Road, Bangalore, which is a meeting point for journalists, artists, theatre persons, students and foreigners. Founded in 1940, it retains an old-world charm with huge pillars and large fans.

Inside Koshy’s, there is a non-smoking, ‘family’ area and the smoking (friends?) area. It is where visitors are taken when they want to be shown the real Bangalore, it is also where locals head when they want to catch up over a cuppa and appams with stew. Koshy’s has all that is typical of these Bangalore hangouts: old building in the heart of the city, rude waiters who will spot you only when they are ready and willing, mostly average food, lots of eager and cheerful crowds – but then you don’t go there for the food. You go there to discuss or overhear discussions about the state of the city, the world, politics, arts, literature and most other things under the sun. For, Koshy’s is in equal parts cafe, soapbox, theatre and adda.

So head there one Saturday evening or Sunday morning with loads of time on your hands to experience this slice of Bangalore life.

[Cellphone images all - better ones may follow but don't hold your breath on that one].

Also check out this fantastic sketch by Jai Iyer.

A taste of Twinings

My first taste of Twinings was when I moved to London (oh, a lifetime ago) to study – and I was introduced to Earl Grey. It was love at first sip. All my life I had drunk only milky chai – oh, I have nothing against it, I love it – and tea bags were still in the realm of fancy-but-why. The only redeeming thing about them was the catch ditty – dip, dip, dip… add some sugar… and milk… and you’re ready to sip. Do you want it stronger? Dip a little longer… And if you remember this and hummed as you read it, then welcome to the old people’s club. Anyway, so. Maybe I was just used to strong, brewed tea or that tea bag and milk don’t go together, but for whatever reason, they were not my thing till the Earl Grey experience. And now of course, I have a colourful collection of familiar and exotic teas from mint to orange blossom via apple and peppermint – something for all moods and occasions.

So when I got invited for the Twinings event in Bangalore, I was quite happy to go – I could think of nothing better to do on s Friday afternoon than taste teas accompanied by the right munchies. Oh yes, it is possible to pair teas with food, much like wine! Twinings has targeted India as one of its growth market in the next five years and Stephen Twining from the tenth generation of the family spoke with much passion about tea. Guided by their tea taster Georgina Durnford (who has spent years training her nose and palate to analyze and grade tea), we went through Earl Grey, English Breakfast and if I remember right, Peppermint (one of my all time favourites). And quite an elaborate ceremony it was – inhale the aroma, sip and swirl – all the drama of wine tasting.

[photographs by my super-talented photographer friend Madhu Reddy]

It’s interesting times ahead – I believe that India is inherently a chai country, the ever-expanding Cafe Coffee Days and the imminent entry of Starbucks notwithstanding. There are a lot of tea cafes that have opened across the country, and now with a brand like Twinings set to push their brand and various new flavours in the market, will coffee drinking Indians move back to tea? Or will the chai drinkers develop a taste for tea?

Also read: ‘Tis time for tea

Turning towels into works of art

A remarkably quirky article from Gadling on how Hospitality Employees Waste 1.7 Million Hours Annually Creating Towel Origami

From the story – Employees at hotels, aboard cruise ships and at spas spend entire shifts at their places of business folding, rolling and tucking towels to resemble local and exotic wildlife. The study suggests that employee time would be better spent servicing customer needs.


[image courtesy: Gadling.com]

Why all this angst? It is not as if these hospitality industry guys forget to, um, be hospitable or cater to customer needs in the process of folding terry towels. And if it makes you smile as you enter your room after a hard day’s work or a hot day of sightseeing, then why not?

Actually, I have never paid these towel origami items much notice before. And then, one night on my recent Nile cruise, I walked into my room to find the living daylights startled out of me by this (don’t miss the sun glasses):

Needless to say, I will never look at towel origami in the same way again!

Adventures of an intrepid trekker 2

Continued from here

And so Manjhi. Just before the campsite is Beeru’s tea shop – now Manjhi is not an inhabited village, a few people from Agoda, 11 km away come there during “season” (meaning the summer months which sees some pedestrian traffic in the area) to graze their cattle and sell tea and snacks to the trekking public. Beeru had spotted potential sales, when he saw our group and another the day earlier headed to Dodital and so he had made his way to Manjhi to set up shop with his supplies of instant coffee, Maggi and Kurkure. Now that is the irony of modern India – call it shining or shaming, what you will – this is territory without electricity, where women travel 10 km to collect fodder for their cows and children trek the same distance each day to go to elementary school but there is unlimited supply of Pepsi and Kurkure everywhere you see.

Anyway. We stopped at Beeru’s tea shop, tucked into eggs and Maggi and made conversation with him and the other porters who had arrived by then. Beeu blushed prettily when asked about Jai’s whereabouts but otherwise chatted merrily about his life. The campsite was close by and when we headed there, our lovely cook Dipender had chai and snacks ready for us (any thoughts of getting slimmer and fitter thanks to the trek evaporated when we saw the food that appeared every few hours). It was just past five in the evening but there was a chill in the air and soon the bonfire came up. The sun was about to set and cast glorious orange light on the distant mountains; everything was perfectly still and quiet. That is how we brought in the new year – warming ourselves in front of the fire at minus five degree temperatures, tucking into piping hot dal chawal. Cannot think of a better way.

Dodital the next day was an easy five kilometer hike that only half of the group undertook – the freezing temperatures added to an unforgiving wind chill factor made it a miserable morning for the trekkers. But the rest of the day was spent back in front of the bonfire chatting and sipping endless cups of chai. The trek back towards Bebra was easy given how most of it was downhill – we reached the camp just around lunch time and got to spend the entire afternoon there – again, inside the small chai and Kurkure shop owned by the local who also ran the camp site (Nabeen Pawar Lodge, proudly says the painted sign).

And finally, the last day – the easiest part of the trek – going back into civilization and easy downhill walks. We stopped to photograph and chat with locals – mountain goats most of them, who walked the toughest stretches with great ease. Back in Kalyani, the starting point, we stopped to catch our breath and take the “after” photograph – weary and aching but happy to have completed the trek. Beginners and gentle it may be, but it still required a level of fitness that none of us possessed. Never mind, the plans for the next trek are already on – Valley of Flowers in August. And this time, we go prepared!

Adventures of an intrepid trekker 1

That’s me, folks. Intrepid I was, because I had no idea what I was letting myself in for. A gentle trek, he said, the guy organizing the trek. For beginners, he assured us. A mere walk. And so on. You get the drift.

Ten minutes into the trek and I could not hear anything, even my own thoughts: my heart was pounding so loud in my ears. As I stopped yet again to catch my breath that promised to desert me at any time, I asked my husband, “tell me again, why do people do this for pleasure?” I then asked our guide who was patiently bringing up the rear, “Vasuji, will I ever get used to this or will it be this tough till the end?” Vasuji, many things but not the best diplomat said, “how can I say? It is all up to how you manage it.” Very reassuring, not.

We were staying in a homestay in Dehradun (Shri Krishna Guesthouse run by the lovely Renee and Jayant – but more on that later) – we had barely survived the gruelling (read head spinning, stomach churning) six hour drive up to Uttarkashi and had lunch there before we drove further ahead to Kalyani. Also known as Sangamchatti, this was the beginning point for our hike to Dodital, and further on to Darba, weather permitting.

Grand plans.

As a friend said later, “in the first half hour of the trek, I had questioned every single decision of my life, and not just the one to come on this trek!” Vamsi and I huffed and puffed our way up, step after weary step – we were six of us in all, plus a couple of guides, porters and cooks each. Of the six trekkers, V and I were right in the middle, neither superfast like the “competitive” ones racing ahead nor the friends trudging along even slower than us. Renee at the guesthouse had given sound advice – just focus on putting one step in front of another. True, if I looked any further ahead, things just seemed insurmountable. By the time we finished less than half the trek, I was telling Vamsi that I wanted to go back down the next day. “I just cannot carry on!”

Luckily, we persevered. The first day was bad, given that we had driven for a long time and started the trek after 3 p.m. – all of us trek novices. It got dark soon enough and we were then walking on these narrow mountain trails using just torchlights and a foolish hope that the end was in sight. By the time we reached Bebra, our first camp site, it was completely dark and our friends who had reached ahead of us were sitting around a tiny bonfire (this was what helped us survive through the five days, even in minus temperatures!) Hot soup and popcorn soon materialized and the tiredness of the day was forgotten as we tucked into dinner dinner immediately after that. Bed time was early: and that means 9 p.m – at the camp site, there was no electricity, nothing to do in fact but stare at the brilliant sky above. And then the struggle of getting into a sleeping bag and getting used to the feel of the hard earth under the back: at that point, every thing seemed an adventure.

Bebra is at a very pretty spot, just by a gurgling stream, surrounded by mountains but we were too busy with other things to notice. The second day was better in terms of the trek itself and we were able to manage it, if not easily, then certainly with less difficulty than the earlier day. Sure, the steady incline was a challenge; muscles that we did not existed cried out in protest. We stopped for a quick chai made by one of the guides near a small stream called Kacheru and then made our way to the next camp site at Manjhi. The original plan was to head on all the way to Dodital (14 km from Bebra) but seeing our state the earlier day, our guide had decided to halt at Manjhi just 9 km away.

(to be continued)