Having lived in Rakkar village up in Himachal Pradesh for four months, my concept of India was high mountains and peaceful farmland. Traveling down into other parts of the country shattered that vision. India is far vaster and diverse that I even now can comprehend. On top of that, there are a lot of people in this country. A lot.
The last time I was in Delhi, for less than 24 hours, I was too jet lagged to be overwhelmed. Anya and I traveled down to Delhi to meet up with her sister and two friends. This time, I was plenty alert. The thing about India I am beginning to realize is that it almost always overloads the senses; strong smells, loud noises, flavors from the very spicy to the sickeningly sweet, plenty of strange things to step in the texture of which you'd rather not think about, and so much activity to watch that your brain is almost on overload. That is, until you get used to it, which I'm sure comes after a while.
Anya and I spent our day in Delhi going to the Red Fort and visiting with our friend Sufi, who used to live and work up near McLeod Ganj. The Red Fort was the palace of several Mughal Kings that reigned from Delhi. During the British Raj, the British used it as its military and administrative headquarters. It was also from this place that Nehru gave his famous speech on the midnight of India's independence from Great Britain. Drawn by this kind of history, I asked Anya if we could go there in the morning.
The Red Fort is a vast complex of wide lawns, buildings, and open air audience chambers. Within its walls are also a number of barracks and other buildings of British construction. The private audience chamber was one of the most beautiful parts of it. Carved all out of white marble, it had several delicately carved latticeworks as well as semi precious stones inlaid into the pillars in patterns of flowers and trees.
What struck me most about the fort, however, were the water channels that ran everywhere through it. The channels and ponds were empty when we went, but the amount of water they must have once held was staggering. It must have provided effective cooling for the hot summer months.
With Sufi, Anya and I went to see a pottery exhibit at the Crafts Museum. There were many other exhibits we did not get to see, having arrived late in the afternoon. It is something I would highly recommend to visitors of Delhi.
Anya's sister Danika and her friend Judy arrived in Delhi at around midnight that night. Mindy was less lucky, having gotten caught by a blizzard at her layover, and arrived closer to 6:00 am. Knowing that they would be tired, we planned to depart from Delhi in the early afternoon and arrive in Aghra in time to see the Taj Mahal just before it closed.
One lesson we learned on this trip is that you can't count on things going as planned in India. Our train arrived on time but lazed its way across the countryside. We arrived nearly two hours later than planned. The sun had already set. We hopped in a taxi and said, “Take us to the Taj! Quickly!” They informed us that, unfortunately, the gates had already closed, although there were still people inside. As we were leaving on another train that night, we opted to go to a roof top restaurant to try to catch a glimpse of it that way instead. All we could see in the thickening twilight was a dim silhouette of the Taj Mahal's famous dome and four minerettes. We did, however, run into a familiar face at that restaurant. A Swedish girl we knew who had been volunteering at the Tibetan Settlement Office in McLeod Ganj happened to be staying in that hotel on her way through. It certainly is a small world.
That night we took a night train to Bhopal. Sleeper class in trains consists of bunks three high in two rows. The middle one can flip down to allow the lower bunk to be used as a bench during the day. All five of us were prepared with cotton sleeping bags we had stitched just for that purpose. It is a much cleaner way to sleep, as no sheets are provided, and one can put your valuables at the bottom of the bag and out of reach. Admittedly, it was a cold night and I didn't sleep much. The chai sellers that walked up and down the train cars announcing their wears through the early morning didn't help either.
Bhopal was a very interesting place to visit. Our entire day was spent at the Museum of Man. The Museum complex was acres upon acres of rolling land, centered on the oldest (I think) prehistoric cave paintings in India. There were a whole string of them in the rocks on top of a ridge. Although the signs promised 21 different sites, the path grew too overgrown about half way. Even still, the ones we saw were spectacular paintings of people and animals.
Also in the Museum of Man were numerous replica villages of different regions in India. I believe they had transported and rebuilt all of the houses on their land. There was also an interesting out door exhibit of “primitive gadgets,” including flour grinders and water wheels. The centerpiece of the complex was a sprawling museum building. It briefly discussed the evolution of humans, particularly with regard to India. The rest of the museum was dedicated to discussing and displaying artifacts from various adivasi (tribal) peoples in India. Everything from replica houses, art, tools, and clothing was on display with somewhat idealistic descriptions of their life styles. I was surprised to see the Gaddi people on display there. It hadn't occurred to me that one of the major ethnic groups represented at Jagori Grameen was classified as tribal. My Hindi tutor, for example, is Gaddi. Apparently, in other parts of the country and deeper in the mountains they are less assimilated into main stream society.
There was more to see in the complex than we could manage in only one day. I would willingly go back again to see more of it. That night, we again boarded a night train and headed for Jalgaon. We arrived at around 2 am, but the manager of our hotel waited up for us. After pitching and convincing us to switch into a bigger room, we slept the rest of the night. Although I was a bit perturbed to be upgraded to a more expensive room, the hot shower I had the next morning was beautiful. It was the first shower I had had since the morning I first arrived in Delhi in late August, staying at Abha's house.
Close to Jalgaon are the Ajunta Caves. The caves, carved in the cliffs in a bend of a deep river gorge, were all Buddhist monasteries or worship halls. They date, I believe, from 200 AD to nearly 700 AD. Some were unfinished while most were intricately carved and even painted. Cut straight into the rock wall, some were at least as big as the whole house that my apartment was in. Each of the monasteries had at least one massive seated Buddha statue carved into the rock at the back, and perhaps many more. The worship halls tended to feature huge vaulted ceilings and a dome shaped stupa. In early Buddhism, the Buddha was not represented by a person but by footprints or a stupa. In the later caves, the stupas were more intricate and even had a figure of Buddha carved into them as well.
That night we intended to take yet another night train out (much to the grumblings of our party. Anya and I apologized later.). However, while we made it off the wait list the night before, we didn't in Jalgaon. There were a number of private bus companies up the street our hotel was on, so we booked a sleeper bus to Pune. Upon boarding this bus, we discovered not seats but padded bunks on either side of the aisle about the width of twin beds. Anya and I shared a cozy top bunk. I'm sure we were elbowing each other all night long, but we did get some sleep.
The next morning we arrived in Pune and checked into another hotel. Stories of the rest of our travels will have to wait until my next blog entry.
Saturday, January 23, 2010
Sunday, January 17, 2010
Loree
I am back from my travels safe and sound in Rakkar. As I go through my travel journal and make sense of its entries, I'll do my best to keep you updated with what is going on in my daily life here.
I am currently teaching another session of beginning English. This time, it is only one afternoon class full of thirteen sharp students. There are six boys and seven girls, most in their mid to late teens. Because I have to do a visa run in late February, I am keeping this to a six week class, meeting four days a week. It already seems easier, having taught once before. The general goals of the class are the same, but I'm reorganizing my syllabus, having learning many lessons in the fall.
This coming week, I will also be starting a basic web design and Photoshop class for Jagori staff. The hope is, once the class is over, Jagori will have a small team of people able to update the web site in my absence.
This Wednesday and Thursday were the holiday of Loree. Loree is the Indian midwinter festival, going by many different names in other parts of the country. Based on a fixed calender that was set thousands of years ago, Loree has migrated away from the actual equinox, so it is celebrated in January today.
In this part of the country, Loree is celebrated with special foods. (There seem to be special foods for everything.) On Wednesday night, families got together and made sweets. The local children appeared to be doing something like caroling, getting sweets at all of their neighbors' houses.
On Thursday, everyone gets together with friends and family to eat kichiri. Kichiri, in general, is a north Indian dish where lentils and rice are cooked together, potentially with other spices and vegetables, in a pressure cooker. This special Loree kichiri had only beans and black lentils in it. Before eating, one is supposed to sprinkle liberal amounts of melted ghee (clarified butter) on top.
I had at least two invites for eating kichiri, but wound up downstairs with my landlady Dr. Kusum and her relatives. She found me and had me promising to come for lunch not five minutes after I sauntered out of bed. It was delicious.
Later this week, I hope to have the first of my travel entries finished. In the mean time, this is a perfect time for you to list yourself as a follower of my blog if you have not already. Once you are a follower, you can add it to any feeds you have set up on your front page, your icon will be proudly displayed to the right of my blog posts, and will generally make this blog look nicer.
I am currently teaching another session of beginning English. This time, it is only one afternoon class full of thirteen sharp students. There are six boys and seven girls, most in their mid to late teens. Because I have to do a visa run in late February, I am keeping this to a six week class, meeting four days a week. It already seems easier, having taught once before. The general goals of the class are the same, but I'm reorganizing my syllabus, having learning many lessons in the fall.
This coming week, I will also be starting a basic web design and Photoshop class for Jagori staff. The hope is, once the class is over, Jagori will have a small team of people able to update the web site in my absence.
This Wednesday and Thursday were the holiday of Loree. Loree is the Indian midwinter festival, going by many different names in other parts of the country. Based on a fixed calender that was set thousands of years ago, Loree has migrated away from the actual equinox, so it is celebrated in January today.
In this part of the country, Loree is celebrated with special foods. (There seem to be special foods for everything.) On Wednesday night, families got together and made sweets. The local children appeared to be doing something like caroling, getting sweets at all of their neighbors' houses.
On Thursday, everyone gets together with friends and family to eat kichiri. Kichiri, in general, is a north Indian dish where lentils and rice are cooked together, potentially with other spices and vegetables, in a pressure cooker. This special Loree kichiri had only beans and black lentils in it. Before eating, one is supposed to sprinkle liberal amounts of melted ghee (clarified butter) on top.
I had at least two invites for eating kichiri, but wound up downstairs with my landlady Dr. Kusum and her relatives. She found me and had me promising to come for lunch not five minutes after I sauntered out of bed. It was delicious.
Later this week, I hope to have the first of my travel entries finished. In the mean time, this is a perfect time for you to list yourself as a follower of my blog if you have not already. Once you are a follower, you can add it to any feeds you have set up on your front page, your icon will be proudly displayed to the right of my blog posts, and will generally make this blog look nicer.
Loree
I am back from my travels safe and sound in Rakkar. As I go through my travel journal and make sense of its entries, I'll do my best to keep you updated with what is going on in my daily life here.
I am currently teaching another session of beginning English. This time, it is only one afternoon class full of thirteen sharp students. There are six boys and seven girls, most in their mid to late teens. Because I have to do a visa run in late February, I am keeping this to a six week class, meeting four days a week. It already seems easier, having taught once before. The general goals of the class are the same, but I'm reorganizing my syllabus, having learning many lessons in the fall.
This coming week, I will also be starting a basic web design and Photoshop class for Jagori staff. The hope is, once the class is over, Jagori will have a small team of people able to update the web site in my absence.
This Wednesday and Thursday were the holiday of Loree. Loree is the Indian midwinter festival, going by many different names in other parts of the country. Based on a fixed calender that was set thousands of years ago, Loree has migrated away from the actual equinox, so it is celebrated in January today.
In this part of the country, Loree is celebrated with special foods. (There seem to be special foods for everything.) On Wednesday night, families got together and made sweets. The local children appeared to be doing something like caroling, getting sweets at all of their neighbors' houses.
On Thursday, everyone gets together with friends and family to eat kichiri. Kichiri, in general, is a north Indian dish where lentils and rice are cooked together, potentially with other spices and vegetables, in a pressure cooker. This special Loree kichiri had only beans and black lentils in it. Before eating, one is supposed to sprinkle liberal amounts of melted ghee (clarified butter) on top.
I had at least two invites for eating kichiri, but wound up downstairs with my landlady Dr. Kusum and her relatives. She found me and had me promising to come for lunch not five minutes after I sauntered out of bed. It was delicious.
Later this week, I hope to have the first of my travel entries finished. In the mean time, this is a perfect time for you to list yourself as a follower of my blog if you have not already. Once you are a follower, you can add it to any feeds you have set up on your front page, your icon will be proudly displayed to the right of my blog posts, and will generally make this blog look nicer.
I am currently teaching another session of beginning English. This time, it is only one afternoon class full of thirteen sharp students. There are six boys and seven girls, most in their mid to late teens. Because I have to do a visa run in late February, I am keeping this to a six week class, meeting four days a week. It already seems easier, having taught once before. The general goals of the class are the same, but I'm reorganizing my syllabus, having learning many lessons in the fall.
This coming week, I will also be starting a basic web design and Photoshop class for Jagori staff. The hope is, once the class is over, Jagori will have a small team of people able to update the web site in my absence.
This Wednesday and Thursday were the holiday of Loree. Loree is the Indian midwinter festival, going by many different names in other parts of the country. Based on a fixed calender that was set thousands of years ago, Loree has migrated away from the actual equinox, so it is celebrated in January today.
In this part of the country, Loree is celebrated with special foods. (There seem to be special foods for everything.) On Wednesday night, families got together and made sweets. The local children appeared to be doing something like caroling, getting sweets at all of their neighbors' houses.
On Thursday, everyone gets together with friends and family to eat kichiri. Kichiri, in general, is a north Indian dish where lentils and rice are cooked together, potentially with other spices and vegetables, in a pressure cooker. This special Loree kichiri had only beans and black lentils in it. Before eating, one is supposed to sprinkle liberal amounts of melted ghee (clarified butter) on top.
I had at least two invites for eating kichiri, but wound up downstairs with my landlady Dr. Kusum and her relatives. She found me and had me promising to come for lunch not five minutes after I sauntered out of bed. It was delicious.
Later this week, I hope to have the first of my travel entries finished. In the mean time, this is a perfect time for you to list yourself as a follower of my blog if you have not already. Once you are a follower, you can add it to any feeds you have set up on your front page, your icon will be proudly displayed to the right of my blog posts, and will generally make this blog look nicer.
Saturday, December 19, 2009
A visit from a rug vendor
The other day, I came home from the Knowledge Center to make lunch. I hadn't gotten much farther into preparations beyond chopping vegetables when I heard someone calling, “Didi! Didi!” (Didi means 'older sister' and is used as a general term for young women around my age.) I saw a man half way up the stairs to my balcony. I asked him what was the matter and he responded with a long string of Hindi that I couldn't understand. Finally, after much confusion, he said in English, “You are very beautiful.” Laughing, I thanked him and returned to my kitchen.
A minute later, I heard him call again, “Didi, didi!” This time, he had a huge tapestry rug rolled up over his shoulder. “Very beautiful rug for your room,” he pitched it to me. I have no need of such a rug, nor do I even have space for one the size he had. I was eventually able to convince him of this in broken Hindi and he left me to finish cooking my lunch.
I had a visit from a door-to-door salesman. He must have seen me buying vegetables on the road and suspected that since I was foreign, I was rich. I'm sure it didn't take much asking from my neighbors to figure out exactly where I lived.
I am about to take off on a nearly three week trip around India with Anya, two of her friends, and her sister. Our travel plans include Delhi, Aghra, Jalgoan, Pune, Chennai, and Madurai. I am looking forward to a break and a chance to see more of India. I don't anticipate being able to update this blog while I am traveling, but I promise to bring back lots of interesting stories.
A minute later, I heard him call again, “Didi, didi!” This time, he had a huge tapestry rug rolled up over his shoulder. “Very beautiful rug for your room,” he pitched it to me. I have no need of such a rug, nor do I even have space for one the size he had. I was eventually able to convince him of this in broken Hindi and he left me to finish cooking my lunch.
I had a visit from a door-to-door salesman. He must have seen me buying vegetables on the road and suspected that since I was foreign, I was rich. I'm sure it didn't take much asking from my neighbors to figure out exactly where I lived.
I am about to take off on a nearly three week trip around India with Anya, two of her friends, and her sister. Our travel plans include Delhi, Aghra, Jalgoan, Pune, Chennai, and Madurai. I am looking forward to a break and a chance to see more of India. I don't anticipate being able to update this blog while I am traveling, but I promise to bring back lots of interesting stories.
Saturday, December 12, 2009
Another Wedding
Last night, after finishing a late meeting about the web site up at TARA Center, where Jagori Grameen's office is, I discovered that it was already getting dark. Anya had told me many times that it wasn't a good idea to walk home alone after dark down that stretch of road, so I turned on the flashlight feature of my cellphone and hurried down the hill. Not far down, to my surprise, Devika and Gaytri greeted me coming back up the road. (Gaytri is on our agricultural team.) Gaytri's cousin was getting married that night, so she invited me to join her and Devika at the wedding feast.
It wasn't far at all from TARA Center. There must have been several hundred people packed into the courtyards of the housing complex. At the center of it all were the bride and groom. I have only ever been to the second day of a wedding, and then the couple have been out of sight, so this was something new to me. We watched the ceremony progress while waiting for our turn at the dham, the feast.
The couple sat underneath a small sort of tent pavilion made of painted wooden poles and decorated with tinsel, lights, wooden parrots. The bride was dressed in a fancy red and gold saalwar kameez, and her dupata was over her head and face the whole time like a veil. Her husband wore a pink turban, decked out with tinsel, and a paper vest sort of thing over the front of his shirt with even more colorful tinsel.
To my understanding, Indian's love tinsel. It's all over their Hindu shrines as well.
During the portion of the ceremony we watched, there was a sort of puja, worship. The girl's parents held a large conch shell over her head and prayed to the god Shiva while chant singing. All the while, she and her new husband knelt under the tent pavilion.
While we waited for the feast, I wound up sitting among a group of local girls, who struck up a conversation with me in English. Seeing it as a good chance to practice my Hindi, I stubbornly stayed out of my native language. The girls, however, seemed to think I know more Hindi than I do, but on the whole, it was fun to talk and practice with them.
The feast was an excellent one, with some of the best dham food I have had since being here. I'm certainly getting better at eating with my fingers, as I was able to keep up with all of the new courses. After the meal, Gaytri took us into the house to see the bride where she sat surrounded by some women friends or family. She was very pretty but very young.
After having eaten our fill, we all headed home. Devika and I were both glad to have someone to walk home with after dark.
Devika told me that the wedding feast differs greatly around the country. In Delhi, it is usually held in hotels or reception halls on long tables with real plates, rather than on the ground with leaf plates and people serving out of baskets. The food is also very regional, so what I eat up here wouldn't be eaten in Delhi or elsewhere.
Wedding season, in this region, has been going since October but it is now coming to an end. I am told that the weddings going on now are the last, and there won't be any more until this June. I believe that the times of year are designated as auspicious through some kind of astrology. This time of year, you can hardly walk down the road without spotting a tent archway or three that signifies a wedding or hearing the blaring music of a wedding band.
It certainly is exciting, but with wedding season over, things will get much quieter. As an added bonus, all of my coworkers are more likely to be around more regularly and not at some friend or relative's wedding. Things will slowly go back to normal.
It wasn't far at all from TARA Center. There must have been several hundred people packed into the courtyards of the housing complex. At the center of it all were the bride and groom. I have only ever been to the second day of a wedding, and then the couple have been out of sight, so this was something new to me. We watched the ceremony progress while waiting for our turn at the dham, the feast.
The couple sat underneath a small sort of tent pavilion made of painted wooden poles and decorated with tinsel, lights, wooden parrots. The bride was dressed in a fancy red and gold saalwar kameez, and her dupata was over her head and face the whole time like a veil. Her husband wore a pink turban, decked out with tinsel, and a paper vest sort of thing over the front of his shirt with even more colorful tinsel.
To my understanding, Indian's love tinsel. It's all over their Hindu shrines as well.
During the portion of the ceremony we watched, there was a sort of puja, worship. The girl's parents held a large conch shell over her head and prayed to the god Shiva while chant singing. All the while, she and her new husband knelt under the tent pavilion.
While we waited for the feast, I wound up sitting among a group of local girls, who struck up a conversation with me in English. Seeing it as a good chance to practice my Hindi, I stubbornly stayed out of my native language. The girls, however, seemed to think I know more Hindi than I do, but on the whole, it was fun to talk and practice with them.
The feast was an excellent one, with some of the best dham food I have had since being here. I'm certainly getting better at eating with my fingers, as I was able to keep up with all of the new courses. After the meal, Gaytri took us into the house to see the bride where she sat surrounded by some women friends or family. She was very pretty but very young.
After having eaten our fill, we all headed home. Devika and I were both glad to have someone to walk home with after dark.
Devika told me that the wedding feast differs greatly around the country. In Delhi, it is usually held in hotels or reception halls on long tables with real plates, rather than on the ground with leaf plates and people serving out of baskets. The food is also very regional, so what I eat up here wouldn't be eaten in Delhi or elsewhere.
Wedding season, in this region, has been going since October but it is now coming to an end. I am told that the weddings going on now are the last, and there won't be any more until this June. I believe that the times of year are designated as auspicious through some kind of astrology. This time of year, you can hardly walk down the road without spotting a tent archway or three that signifies a wedding or hearing the blaring music of a wedding band.
It certainly is exciting, but with wedding season over, things will get much quieter. As an added bonus, all of my coworkers are more likely to be around more regularly and not at some friend or relative's wedding. Things will slowly go back to normal.
Friday, December 11, 2009
Birthday Feast
Devika's birthday was this week and her parents came up from Delhi to surprise her. They were staying with a friend of theirs that her mother had met at a writing workshop about half an hour from Rakkar.
On the evening of her birthday, we all hopped into her parents' car and drove to the house where they were staying. It was a beautiful place even more out of the way than where we live. They greeted us around a little bonfire where one of the cooks of the house roasted chicken, vegetables, and paneer on kabobs over the open flame. I haven't had meat like that in a long time. It was really wonderful. In the mean time, I snuggled with their 1-month-old puppy. I do miss having clean healthy dogs around that you can pet without fear.
I did discover, however, that when people make lemonade around here, they like to put lots of salt into it. Next time I'll ask for no salt. After we feasted on the kebobs, we were surprised by a soup brought out to us. Then the told us that that was all merely the appetizer. We were invited inside for the real dinner.
There was more food than we could all eat together and it was all wonderful. I know I'm not the only one who stuffed herself just because the food was too good to stop eating. And then, of course, there was cake. Indian cake tends to be drier than American cake, with thick, sweet icing that almost seems like whipped cream. Different but delicious.
It was wonderful to be able to meet Devika's parents. They have extended an invitation to us to visit them when we are down in Delhi any time.
On the evening of her birthday, we all hopped into her parents' car and drove to the house where they were staying. It was a beautiful place even more out of the way than where we live. They greeted us around a little bonfire where one of the cooks of the house roasted chicken, vegetables, and paneer on kabobs over the open flame. I haven't had meat like that in a long time. It was really wonderful. In the mean time, I snuggled with their 1-month-old puppy. I do miss having clean healthy dogs around that you can pet without fear.
I did discover, however, that when people make lemonade around here, they like to put lots of salt into it. Next time I'll ask for no salt. After we feasted on the kebobs, we were surprised by a soup brought out to us. Then the told us that that was all merely the appetizer. We were invited inside for the real dinner.
There was more food than we could all eat together and it was all wonderful. I know I'm not the only one who stuffed herself just because the food was too good to stop eating. And then, of course, there was cake. Indian cake tends to be drier than American cake, with thick, sweet icing that almost seems like whipped cream. Different but delicious.
It was wonderful to be able to meet Devika's parents. They have extended an invitation to us to visit them when we are down in Delhi any time.
Thursday, December 3, 2009
Eating
I was recently asked, “Do you get to eat Indian food all the time?” The answer to that is that I do as long as I learn to cook it myself. The truth of the situation is that there are essentially no restaurants in Rakkar and Sidhbari. Those that there are only serve chow mein and momos, the Tibetan name for Chinese dumplings. (A side note- fans of “Avatar: The Last Air Bender,” I would bet that those dumplings are where the name for the lemur came from.) The Knowledge Center is only a minute down the road from my house, so I have the luxury of eating at home for all of my meals if I am around.
For the first two or three months, there was really one dish that I knew how to make, and I made it several times a week with different variations. This is called subji (literally meaning vegetables). Around here, it is usually eating with a plain flour and water flat bread called roti. I usually have it with basmati rice instead. A few miserably failed attempts at roti early on discouraged me. As I am gaining more culinary bravery, I think I might try again, perhaps with supervision.
To give you an idea of what I have been eating, and to give you a chance to eat like I do, here's how I made subji. This recipe is based on what Anya taught me early on and my own experimentation. This serves two. You can do this with really any kind of vegetable. I use whatever is in season at the local stand. You can do just one vegetable or combine different types together. For my portions, a small to medium head of cauliflower or cabbage, two medium eggplants, or the equivalent is a good amount. I have done this with green beans, peas, squash, potatoes, carrots, and other vegetables as well. All measurements are approximate as I just use plain kitchen spoons to measure.
Basic Subji:
1 small tomato, diced
1 small onion, diced
2-3 cloves of garlic, minced
3 cardiumum seeds
1 tbs. cumin seeds*
1 tsp. garm masala**
1 tsp. salt
a pinch of red chili powder to taste
½ tsp. Turmeric
vegetable(s) of choice
1.The basic idea of Indian cooking is to start with spices in the oil before adding other ingredients. As such, put some oil (I use soy oil or mustard oil) in a wok and swirl to coat the sides. Once it is heated, add the cumin seeds and cardiumum seeds until they begin to crackle.
2.Then add the onion and garlic and fry until it begins to turn brown. Add the tomato and fry until the mixture begins to become a paste.
3.Add the remaining spices and stir them in. Add the vegetables with about a cup of water. Stir them around until coated. Reduce heat, cover, and let simmer until the vegetables are soft. Remove the lid and let the remaining water boil off. Serve hot with rice or roti.
* If you only have cumin powder, add this with the spices later on.
** garm masala is a common spice blend found in Northern India. You might be able to find this in the Asian food section of your grocery store or at an Asian market. Otherwise, you could duplicate this by combining the spices yourself.
Another staple of the north Indian diet is daal, lentils. At first, I didn't like daal very much, but when Kelly visited us in November, she introduced me to the secret ingredient she had discovered: soy sauce. I can't pretend that this is authentic daal, but it's how I like to make it.
A pressure cooker is a staple cooking tool here for everything from potatoes to rice to beans. Lentils are no exception. There are ways to make lentils without a pressure cooker, but it will take much longer. There are many types of lentils. I use the smallest yellow kind. As a rule, the smaller the grain, the shorter cooking time it takes. Without a pressure cooker, soak the lentils for two hours or so, then boil for a long time, covered, until they're tender. This again, serves two.
Daal:
½ cup lentils
1 small tomato, diced
½ small onion, diced
3-5 cloves of garlic, minced
1 tbs. mustard seeds
½ tsp. turmeric
2 tbs. Salt
1 tsp. garm masala
½ cup soy sauce (I've never measured it, this is just a guess at how much I pour in. It may be more.)
(Optional: some small vegetables like chopped green beans, corn, peas, or Japanese eggplant)
1.Cook the lentils. Put in a pressure cooker with 1 cup of water. For tiny daal, eight whistles should be enough. For average and larger daal, you will need between twelve and fourteen whistles.
2.In a wok, heat oil (soy oil works very well) and add mustard seeds, frying until they crackle. Add the garlic and onions until they begin to turn pink, then add the tomatoes and other vegetables, if any. Add the spices and mix thoroughly.
3.Add the lentils with 1 ½ cups of water. Mix it in with the other ingredients, then add the soy sauce. Reduce heat and cover for a few minutes until vegetables are tender. Uncover and boil off the remaining water. Serve with rice or roti.
As I mentioned, I have recently become more culinarily adventurous, but these two dishes still remain staples for me.
Last night, I wound up in McLeod Ganj for dinner with Anya. As we were both craving miso soup, we headed to my personal favorite restaurant, Lung Ta, the Japanese restaurant. The food is entirely vegetarian and very authentic, plus their service is very fast. As we settled into one of the corner tables where you sit on the floor on cushions Japanese style, we started to notice that we understood the language that the group of tourists was speaking next to us: Japanese.
We half-eavesdropped for most of the meal, both lamenting how our Japanese has gotten weaker since coming here and colored with Hindi words. By the end of the meal we worked up our courage and said hello to the tourists. We had a brief conversation in Japanese with them, and I only slipped into Hindi a couple of times. My Japanese came back pretty quickly, but for Anya who hasn't used it for nearly a year, she had a harder time. It was fun to practice as well as remind myself that I'm not a language dunce. It is frustrating after being good at a language to start over completely. Admittedly, I don't understand much Hindi in conversation around here, but I get by.
A recent discovery of mine, thanks to the shopping genius of Sonia, is the Monday Market in Dharmsala. Most stores are closed on Monday in Dharmsala. However, lots of private used and new clothing sellers line the street with tables or tarps, piled with clothes. The shoppers become a traffic hazard as they dart across the street looking for the best deals. As I somehow managed to get to India without any sweaters, that was my mission. I picked up one for 100 rupees and another for only 50 rupees. I passed a table full of sweatpants, and picked up a pair for 50 rupees, figuring they would make good pajamas when it gets colder. For under $4, I am now much better outfitted for winter.
The sweatpants had a tag still on them from Goodwill in the USA. Just how they got from Goodwill to Dharmshala, I will never know, but they would have cost me $4.50 in the US by that tag. I think I got a good deal.
For the first two or three months, there was really one dish that I knew how to make, and I made it several times a week with different variations. This is called subji (literally meaning vegetables). Around here, it is usually eating with a plain flour and water flat bread called roti. I usually have it with basmati rice instead. A few miserably failed attempts at roti early on discouraged me. As I am gaining more culinary bravery, I think I might try again, perhaps with supervision.
To give you an idea of what I have been eating, and to give you a chance to eat like I do, here's how I made subji. This recipe is based on what Anya taught me early on and my own experimentation. This serves two. You can do this with really any kind of vegetable. I use whatever is in season at the local stand. You can do just one vegetable or combine different types together. For my portions, a small to medium head of cauliflower or cabbage, two medium eggplants, or the equivalent is a good amount. I have done this with green beans, peas, squash, potatoes, carrots, and other vegetables as well. All measurements are approximate as I just use plain kitchen spoons to measure.
Basic Subji:
1 small tomato, diced
1 small onion, diced
2-3 cloves of garlic, minced
3 cardiumum seeds
1 tbs. cumin seeds*
1 tsp. garm masala**
1 tsp. salt
a pinch of red chili powder to taste
½ tsp. Turmeric
vegetable(s) of choice
1.The basic idea of Indian cooking is to start with spices in the oil before adding other ingredients. As such, put some oil (I use soy oil or mustard oil) in a wok and swirl to coat the sides. Once it is heated, add the cumin seeds and cardiumum seeds until they begin to crackle.
2.Then add the onion and garlic and fry until it begins to turn brown. Add the tomato and fry until the mixture begins to become a paste.
3.Add the remaining spices and stir them in. Add the vegetables with about a cup of water. Stir them around until coated. Reduce heat, cover, and let simmer until the vegetables are soft. Remove the lid and let the remaining water boil off. Serve hot with rice or roti.
* If you only have cumin powder, add this with the spices later on.
** garm masala is a common spice blend found in Northern India. You might be able to find this in the Asian food section of your grocery store or at an Asian market. Otherwise, you could duplicate this by combining the spices yourself.
Another staple of the north Indian diet is daal, lentils. At first, I didn't like daal very much, but when Kelly visited us in November, she introduced me to the secret ingredient she had discovered: soy sauce. I can't pretend that this is authentic daal, but it's how I like to make it.
A pressure cooker is a staple cooking tool here for everything from potatoes to rice to beans. Lentils are no exception. There are ways to make lentils without a pressure cooker, but it will take much longer. There are many types of lentils. I use the smallest yellow kind. As a rule, the smaller the grain, the shorter cooking time it takes. Without a pressure cooker, soak the lentils for two hours or so, then boil for a long time, covered, until they're tender. This again, serves two.
Daal:
½ cup lentils
1 small tomato, diced
½ small onion, diced
3-5 cloves of garlic, minced
1 tbs. mustard seeds
½ tsp. turmeric
2 tbs. Salt
1 tsp. garm masala
½ cup soy sauce (I've never measured it, this is just a guess at how much I pour in. It may be more.)
(Optional: some small vegetables like chopped green beans, corn, peas, or Japanese eggplant)
1.Cook the lentils. Put in a pressure cooker with 1 cup of water. For tiny daal, eight whistles should be enough. For average and larger daal, you will need between twelve and fourteen whistles.
2.In a wok, heat oil (soy oil works very well) and add mustard seeds, frying until they crackle. Add the garlic and onions until they begin to turn pink, then add the tomatoes and other vegetables, if any. Add the spices and mix thoroughly.
3.Add the lentils with 1 ½ cups of water. Mix it in with the other ingredients, then add the soy sauce. Reduce heat and cover for a few minutes until vegetables are tender. Uncover and boil off the remaining water. Serve with rice or roti.
As I mentioned, I have recently become more culinarily adventurous, but these two dishes still remain staples for me.
Last night, I wound up in McLeod Ganj for dinner with Anya. As we were both craving miso soup, we headed to my personal favorite restaurant, Lung Ta, the Japanese restaurant. The food is entirely vegetarian and very authentic, plus their service is very fast. As we settled into one of the corner tables where you sit on the floor on cushions Japanese style, we started to notice that we understood the language that the group of tourists was speaking next to us: Japanese.
We half-eavesdropped for most of the meal, both lamenting how our Japanese has gotten weaker since coming here and colored with Hindi words. By the end of the meal we worked up our courage and said hello to the tourists. We had a brief conversation in Japanese with them, and I only slipped into Hindi a couple of times. My Japanese came back pretty quickly, but for Anya who hasn't used it for nearly a year, she had a harder time. It was fun to practice as well as remind myself that I'm not a language dunce. It is frustrating after being good at a language to start over completely. Admittedly, I don't understand much Hindi in conversation around here, but I get by.
A recent discovery of mine, thanks to the shopping genius of Sonia, is the Monday Market in Dharmsala. Most stores are closed on Monday in Dharmsala. However, lots of private used and new clothing sellers line the street with tables or tarps, piled with clothes. The shoppers become a traffic hazard as they dart across the street looking for the best deals. As I somehow managed to get to India without any sweaters, that was my mission. I picked up one for 100 rupees and another for only 50 rupees. I passed a table full of sweatpants, and picked up a pair for 50 rupees, figuring they would make good pajamas when it gets colder. For under $4, I am now much better outfitted for winter.
The sweatpants had a tag still on them from Goodwill in the USA. Just how they got from Goodwill to Dharmshala, I will never know, but they would have cost me $4.50 in the US by that tag. I think I got a good deal.
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