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NEWSLETTER OF THE Culinary Historians of Chicago |
![]() FALL 2002 |
In August, yours truly presented a program based on our PBS program, "Hidden India: the Kerala Spicelands." The real author of the program and its musical score, Jan Thompson, was stuck in the hard clay of southern Illinois, so Elizabeth Richter, the Executive Producer, and I muddled through. Naturally, it wasn't possible to cover everything in the talk, just as we couldn't possibly cover everything about Kerala: like all of India, it is an immensely complex society. The language, Malayalam (pron. Mal-YA-lam, but without accented syllables), alone is hard to get one's tongue around. For instance the official name of the state capital, Trivandrum, is Thiruvananthapuram. Fortunately, many Keralites speak English (a charming Indian version -- Jan always enjoyed being called "Madam") and their cuisines are definitely easy to mouth. Better still, these are about the friendliest people we have ever encountered. Outsiders such as ourselves could hardly go anywhere without local people almost literally dragging us into their houses for a "little refreshment, Sir and Madame." Would that we Americans were so polite or could be so friendly.
When Kerala is mentioned to most non-Keralite Indians they usually say: "beautiful place." But they hardly ever say "great cuisine." The first impression is mostly true, the second depends on one's tastes and what Keralite cuisine is. The state has two distinct geographical/climatic regions. The 330-mile-long coastal strip is mainly flat with climate that we reptilians like -- warm to hot and mostly humid. The beaches are good and largely undeveloped for tourism, the northern coast used by people who fish for a living. Just inland is where most of the population lives. A main road, to stretch the word's meaning, runs from Cranganore in the north to Trivandrum in the south. Along its sometimes double lanes are jammed villages, hamlets, street markets, people walking or riding bicycles, cattle and any other living thing in the state. It is colorful and culturally fascinating, but not exactly the scenic wonders that state tourism promotes. In the coastal center are the famous waterways, especially around Alleppey and Kottayam with rice paddies interspersed between small hamlets. To the east the land rises into the Cardamon Hills. Scenic, with a very pleasant climate, this region holds wildlife refuges, rubber and cardamon plantations, forests, and gorgeous tea plantations. We discovered that the state is so colorful, everywhere, that it would be hard not to have excellent images for a program.
Those who have read Kristin Eddy's (one of our recent speakers) articles in the Chicago Tribune about Keralite cuisine may have some idea of what it is. It, too, falls into categories, in this case, grouped by religions. There are three with subdivisions in each: Hindus (60%); Muslims (20%); and Christians (20%). Jews should be added to the mix because a good-sized population lived here for close to 2,000 years, at least until most migrated to Israel.
Northern Indians usually find Muslim dishes familiar, and so would most Chicagoans who dine in our region's Indian restaurants (Udupi Palace, south Indian and vegetarian, on Devon Avenue is an exception). Lamb curries, Biryanis and Pulaos, samosas, wheat flour Nan, Paneer Mattar, and even Tandoori Chicken appear on menus. The spicing and preparations of these dishes differ from the other Kerala cuisines: the masalas, for example, must be well-fried in ghee (clarified butter). Biryani and Tandoori Chicken, northern in origin, have become national Indian dishes and are found in restaurants great and small throughout Kerala.
There are some 20 different Christian sects in the state, but dishes are fairly similar among them. Lacking the same Muslim and upper caste Hindu dietary restrictions, Christians eat a wide variety of dishes. Mrs. K.M. Mathew, the doyenne of Kerala cookery, says that a Christmas feast might include fried meats, fried fish, fish curries, fish with grated coconut, chicken curry, chicken Korma, and lots of chutneys. One ingredient always associated with Christian cookery in central Kerala is cocum, a small, slightly sourish relative of tamarind. Think any of this would serve as Christmas dinner in the USA?
Hindus have always been divided by caste and class, though in Kerala the "traditional system" has been almost completely broken down. Nevertheless, people who follow the Brahminic ways remain strict vegetarians, while those whose ancestry lay in the lower castes, such as Nairs, eat animal protein -- especially fish. Kerala's greatest Hindu, and now universally celebrated, festival is the New Year, called Onam. Traditional Hindu dishes served for it illustrate just what the cuisine is. Bananas, pappads (thin rice-flour crepes), banana and jackfruit chips, lime and mango pickles, Thoren (a spicy slaw), Avial (vegetable stew), lemon curry (!), Pachadis (thick, lightly cooked, vegetable curries usually with coconut) and many more. The old way to serve the meal is to spread a large banana leaf out, place a heap of rice in the center, and surround it with pickles, chutneys, accompanied by bowlfuls of the other preparations. These are all eaten by hand, the only way that civilized people eat (like the ancient Greeks and Romans).
What all Kerala cuisines have in common are some native ingredients. Coconut is used in almost everything, as are curry leaves. The latter are used extensively in Keralite, Cambodian, Laotian, Thai Indonesian and Malay cuisine as a seasoningsimilar to Bay Leaves. Get some in an Indian store and you'll be amazed at the wonderful flavor they have. Of course, black pepper, cardamon, ginger, and turmeric are grown locally and used widely. This being a coastal land with many freshwater rivers, fish of both types are staples. Of all the staples, though, one is the absolute center - rice. Just after World War II a new way of preparing rice was introduced into the state, parboiling. Along the waterways during the harvest season, you might see women standing before a huge metal pot stirring the new rice. It is cooked only so that the outer shell is removed, leaving the other six husks with all of their nutritional values intact. The rice is then dried and kept for the rest of the year. The rice has a different texture and flavor than one is used to, but it is more nutritionally sound than polished rice.
Obviously, there is a lot more. If you attended the meeting mentioned here, then you tried some of the Kerala dishes made by our very own culinary explorer, Barbara Olson. Since members asked for recipes, here they are. One more note. I haven't seen Mrs. Mathew's books in the U.S., though she has trained many of India's greatest chefs! They are published by her family newspaper publishing company and are distributed by Current Books in Kottyam, Kerala. I do not have any address, but try the internet. The most accessible of her many books is The Family Cook Book. Let me know if you have any luck. Recipes on pages 4 and 5.
Bruce Kraig, October 2002, Carbondale, Illinois