Curry? Not for me, thanks.

Hang on. I never said I don't like Indian food. It's 'Curry' I can't stand. Let me start with standard definitions of curry:

1. a generic description used throughout European culture to describe a general variety of side dishes, best known in South Asian cuisines, especially Indian cuisine. The word curry is an anglicised version of the Tamil word kari which is usually understood to mean "gravy" or "sauce" rather than "spices (Wikipedia)

2. a pungent dish of vegetables, onions,meat or fish, etc., flavored with various spices or currypowder, and often eaten with rice(dictionary.com)

3. a dish of meat, vegetables or fish cooked in a hot, spicy sauce of Indian origin (Oxford English Dictionary)

Straightforward? You'd think!!

In my new world, I have learnt during the last two years to steer clear of anything associated with a curry. That is because, curry is used as a generic term to describe anything remotely Asian. Served in whatever way. And usually (as most friends will agree) quite morbidly inedible. Having heard previously that Indian cuisine is quite popular in the UK, I was looking forward to sampling a wide variety of fare once I got here. Especially while living in London. To my dismay, there couldn't be anything further from the truth! Here are some facts (based on experiences of friends and myself, and occasionally hearsay, and certainly not on sound research methodology) when it comes to 'curry' in England:

1. There is at least one Indian/ Curry restaurant/takeaway on every High Street, even in the remotest village.  Yay? Hardly. 

2. Most of these will have an inexhaustible menu which looks something like this

Naturally a huge turn-off if you were expecting some quality in your meal. Instead what you get is unimaginative permutations and combinations (LAMB curry, balti lamb, lamb bhoona, lamb madras, CHICKEN curry, balti chicken, chicken bhoona, chicken madras, KING PRAWN curry....you get the picture) Not to be confused with wide range of choice.

3. All gravy dishes will have a very suspiciously deep orange-red colour that will stay on your fingers (and sometimes lips) for days on end.

4. The same deep-red gravy will have pieces of your choice of meat or veg floating in it, no matter which dish you have ordered.

5. The same shade of deep red will adorn any tikka/kabab kind of starter. 

6. Samosas and onion bhajis (pakoras) which are relished as tea-time delicacies back home, will be served to you as a starter. And the samosas will be weirdly flat and potato-less. Mango or other flavoured lassi is a standard Indian meal menu drink, available all through the year. Poppadoms are the inevitable accompaniment. 

6. Now to get to the crux of the matter: Indian food=spicy, right? Wrong! Show me a spicy curry in a restaurant and I will show you a...never mind. To me eating food without a hint of spice is like living life without having loved. But opinions can differ. And no I do not infuse my food with tons of red chillies (my cooking is very healthy as the better-half will testify, so is his) , but I do appreciate some flavour. To be fair, Asian restaurants have catered to the European clientèle by allowing the food/flavours to adapt to more mellow taste buds (instead of the other way round) and I appreciate the fact that the food industry is an industry after all. Hence, this distinction: curry=British Asian cuisine NOT Indian food. 

7. You're walking down the street and you spot a fancy looking restaurant advertising Indian fare. (Spice Lodge, Taste of East, such like) The exteriors are lush, the interior warm and inviting. The decor tasteful. The staff look smart and friendly. You are oh so tempted. Stay away! You will definitely regret emptying your pockets for insipid food served with a treacherous smile. 

8. So you've gone in anyway and you decide to request an extra spicy dash to your order, naturally the staff will appreciate the fact that you appear Asian, and will happily oblige. Well, what you get is a disdainful frown, (the 'regular' customers like it bland, you see). Your dish then arrives with a generous scattering of long sliced green chillies, which you will not eat anyway. 

9. You spot another canteen-ish looking place, with bright lights, desi crowds, and bawdy Bollywood music. Run inside, and wait in the queue. Satisfaction guaranteed. (My one venture at a posh Asian restaurant in Birmingham-the birthplace of Balti cuisine, was an absolute disaster)

10. Curry does make a regular appearance on several television cookery shows, such as the Great British Menu and my everyday essential Come Dine With me. But I do NOT watch these for the recipes!! Most TV curries will feature diced meat, boiled up with a jar of commercial curry paste. Ever so gross!

11. The only recipes from Western curry-chefs that I would consider using would have to be those of Madhur Jaffrey, Manju Malhi or Cyrus Todiwala whose Saturday Kitchen recipe I successfully modified using fish instead of lamb (healthy, see?) 

http://www.bbc.co.uk/food/recipes/parsee-style_lamb_cutlet_13755

But we are moving into another realm now...which will require more blogging from me in the future. 

12. As I have said earlier, all the opinions expressed above are my own, and there are exceptions. I have indeed had the good fortune to have some very good Indian food on several occasions, most of the time at home, cooked by mine own fair hands. And rarely at curry restaurants as well. 

Living it rough?

Last evening I watched one episode of a documentary series on the Amish people of Northern America. It is a community which has always triggered my curiosity and filled me with awe. If you live in the UK, you could probably catch up with the documentary on Channel4 and watch the upcoming episodes over the next few Sundays. There is a hoard of information out there on who the Amish are, what they believe in and how they live, but in short, their way of life is generally perceived as out of place in the modern world. They adhere to strict religious beliefs, have rigid protocols of discipline, shun modern technology and education, are monogamous..yet, strangely they seem to be at peace with themselves, and even happy.

How would you and I like to give up all our amenities and comforts, live in plain houses, with minimal furnishing and decoration, no electricity or running water, travel on horse drawn carts (not carriages), and have one telephone in the village for emergencies? How would all the women I know, including myself, like the idea of having a husband who is the breadwinner, the head of the household, the boss, while our role is reduced (or glorified) to that of a manager of the children, the cooking, the pickling and preserving, the back garden growing and even the rudimentary educating of our young ones? Charming? In a moment of romantic fantasy, I would tell myself that it does indeed sound charming.

But what if it went beyond that? What if it was not such a difficult question of ‘giving up’ everything, as much as not knowing any other way of life? What if...it was a matter of choice? What if you were well aware of the comforts and riches the wide world has to offer, but chose to remain who you are, relishing life as you know it, living each day close to nature, living it rough?

And that is exactly what the group of Amish teenagers seemed to be. It was nearly impossible not to like them. Frank, simple, non judgemental (for they were spending the week in the home of very privileged British counterparts, in fact they were living in a castle). And they seemed so happy. A different kind of happy. Not the kind of happy you and I feel when we get back from a shopping trip, or after a dinner date. Just plain happy- with what they had.

The Amish people have a very basic form of education which lasts from age 6 to age 14. They learn only the basic things. Things that are considered necessary to be able to live comfortably and provide for their families. Like spellings, arithmetic, geography, and how not to have accidents while riding on horse wagons. And these young teenagers could not relate to the system of modern education where learning is geared towards one important goal. Passing the exams. They were also reluctant to discuss politics at the dinner table, for the Amish do not vote.

What global warming?

Politics?  Not for me!

It was easy to be appalled when a young man declared that he doesn’t believe global warming existed at all! It was easy to pity them for not having the benefits of modern awareness, the World Wide Web, the advantage of travelling around continents, to realize that global warming is a pressing problem indeed.  And we love the fashionable necessity of reducing our carbon footprint and going green. We do our bit, don’t we? Not to have a say in political matters is an infringement on our basic rights. We would all like to help choose those who make the rules for us, we would like to help make the rules, heck we would even love to rule!

And now to just take a simple look at the flip side. If we were all to live our lives as these simple folk do, grow our own, produce only what is necessary, leave Mother Nature unharmed, would there even be a threat of global warming? All of us, all the world, one simple rule...too simple perhaps.

And if all of us lived as a close knit community, following simple rules of faith (no matter which faith), respecting lives and property, what need for divisions and politics? What would we need to vote for?

The Gypsies and the Tribes

Why anthropology is so intriguing is because everyone can relate to it at some level, we all have ancestors and they all came from somewhere. My husband and I have a fascination for the Roma people (also known as Romani, Romanis,  Romanies, Romany, Rom, or simply Gypsies) who live in several European countries and trace their origins to India from where they started migrating in the 11^th century. They have an enchanting history and a rich heritage, quite unlike the flashy gypsies of the 70’s Bollywood.

A Rom artist at work

The finished goods

We had a bunch of these wanderers come and put up their tents and colourful carts in our local country park in Milton, Cambridge, for a couple of days. Naturally I went to take a peek, wanting to purchase CDs of their traditional music and chunky, weird jewellery, and perhaps have my fortune told. But what I was actually doing in that park was trying hard not to stare while looking for Indian features in those well sculpted faces with dark eyes and darker hair, marvelling at how the women maintained their figures, and how the children ran bare feet over the brambles. And I also eavesdropped wherever I could, trying to figure if their musical dialect sounded similar to any Indian language that I was familiar with. I gave up after reasoning that the linguists had already got it worked out.

Colourful wagons

There were upsets, naturally. People complained of boisterous strangers in the local pubs, of not being able to park their cars while visiting the supermarket, of colourfully dressed individuals cutting queues at the tills, of not being able to walk their dogs in the park! Not surprising as the general population has always viewed these ‘outsiders’ with hostility even after centuries. They are perceived as troublemakers, pickpockets and the ones to blame when the chickens go missing.

But how wonderful would it be to live in a world where the land was not divided by boundaries, where you could live in close harmony with nature, not shackled by the necessities of having to build a home and hearth, where you could just move on...an eternal cycle. Once again, a greener world, and no political division.

And then there are the tribal populations all over the world. I especially like to recall my encounter with truly indigenous tribes in the Andaman and Nicobar islands where I worked for a short time. The Great Andamanese, Jarwas, Jangils, Onges, Sentinalese and Nicobaris, all are considered to have varying anthropological roots, and most have primitive lifestyles. The Tsunami of 2004 brought these communities to the limelight, and everyone scrambled to ‘protect’ these people from annihilation. Yes, there were outbreaks of disease, and it became necessary to provide urgent medical attention. But it was almost forgotten that it was people belonging to these tribes who largely survived the disaster because of certain ancient warning systems. So much for modern technology! The upsurge of tourism thereafter has threatened their existence in more way than one. Curious travellers in hordes gawk and click photographs of these ‘endangered species’ while the bus moves into ‘protected’ Jarwa territory. One Onge family was temporarily housed within a hospital after the Tsunami, and visitors to the nearby Cellular Jail could stare into a courtyard full of dark skinned, large eyed ‘junglees’ (a common term for uncivilised) who knew nothing better than to stare back.

So should these populations be left alone or should they all be forcibly civilised so that they have equal opportunities like the rest of us? Do they not deserve the benefits of modern education, health technology, clothing, shelter? Tough question. The Nicobaris are one tribe which has largely merged into the mainstream and lead modern lives, attending college, having careers, and also visiting the hospitals in large numbers with diabetes and hypertension, the bane of modern living.

And I am hardly one qualified to comment on this issue, as one who takes pride in her own tribal heritage, being an Oraon from Jharkhand. But I had it all, a convent education, a specialist medical degree, and now a life in an entirely different continent, farther from my roots than I could ever imagine!