I love mangoes. They’re probably the best fruit I have ever eaten. Trouble is, it’s hard to get good ones in the states. Up until a year ago, I had no idea how good mangoes could get. That was before I went to Guatemala for spring break. They were amazing! I had so many that week, and every one was like a piece of soft candy that melts in your mouth (but not in your hand). Returning to the states, I was highly disappointed by the diminished quality of mangoes that were available. It’s just that they have to be transported while they are still under ripe, and they don’t take well to artificial ripening procedures like bananas or some other tropical fruits.
Luckily, India grows mangoes. Granted, they’re grown in the south of the country, but it’s still relatively close. And today, Atul said that he would take me to the market to get some. Yay! Aside from this being the most exciting thing that’s happened in awhile (besides looking at the new house), this is more evidence for the high level of respect for food that is apparent in this area. In America, it’s possible to get any food at any time of the year, regardless of season. Yet to do that, food must be shipped from Chile and New Zealand, and it is never as good as it is when harvested in the appropriate season and shipped a minimum distance.
So instead of going to Meijer for your mangoes, go to South America or India instead. Maybe it’s a little bit more expensive, but it’s much tastier. I don’t know about you, but for me, it’s worth it.
28 April 2010
25 April 2010
A Hindi and a Priest Walk Into a Bar...
Today I have an Indian joke that Ramdev told me. One of the more famous gods in Hinduism is Ganesh or Ganesha, the son of Shiva and Pavarti. He's a chubby guy with and elephant head, and he's kind of like an all-purpose god (according to my ignorant, limited Western understanding of Hinduism). That's because before you start anything, you pray to Ganesha. Ganesha is always portrayed in pictures and statues with a small rat, because that's how he travels around.
Now that you have the context, here's the joke:
Q: Why does Ganesha travel around on a rat?
A: Because there were no limos 5,000 years ago.
HA! That's so funny! I can't stop laughing! It's just... well... okay, maybe it's funnier if you're in India. At least it's not my joke.
Now that you have the context, here's the joke:
Q: Why does Ganesha travel around on a rat?
A: Because there were no limos 5,000 years ago.
HA! That's so funny! I can't stop laughing! It's just... well... okay, maybe it's funnier if you're in India. At least it's not my joke.
23 April 2010
Better Homes and Gardens
Don’t get me wrong, I like living in the mud hut. I really do. It’s kind of rustic, and it’s very easy to keep clean, seeing as the whole house is made of mud anyway. I really feel kind of disconnected from the rest of the world when I’m there, and since that’s one of the reasons why I traveled halfway around the world in the first place, I fit right in. I like a challenge, and I’m the type of person who can tolerate a lot. Yet it’s not the kind of place where you want to squeeze 6 people for an extended period of time. There’s no internet, lousy water pressure, and lots of bugs. There’s just not enough room anyway. That’s why for the past several weeks, Atul and other GSC staff have been locating more suitable accommodations for the summer crew of 5, plus me. We finally found one, and I took a look at it for the first time today.
Man, it’s nice. Although after the mud hut, anything would seem pretty luxurious. Still, it’s really nice. The floors in every room are marble, and so are the countertops in the kitchen. There are plenty of cupboards and closets in all rooms for storing stuff. Two bedrooms and a bathroom attached to each bedroom make it perfect for accommodating both sexes. My favorite part is the huge common room surrounded by full-length windows that let in a ton of natural light. Plus, a big open space with smooth floors just screams “dance floor.” I hope the new students are interested in learning swing dancing.
Right now, it’s being painted, and a little bit of sealant is being added to the moldings. Other than that, the house is in perfect condition, very clean and new. There’s a stairway connecting to the roof, which is huge, so that will be a wonderful place to read a book on a lazy, hot afternoon. Outlets in every room and broadband availability are good things to have for a bunch of laptop-toting college students, and we got ‘em. We even have a shower in one of the bathrooms. How American.
One of the more interesting features is the vegetable storage mini-closet in the kitchen. It’s a cupboard that opens out to the outside and is shielded from the elements by an awning and a screen fence. You can keep leafy vegetables, potatoes, onions, carrots, peas, basically any vegetables in this storage area, and the cool air at night will keep them fresh. No need for crisping drawers in the fridge. It’s a truly ingenious way to take advantage of the conditions around you for your benefit. And it looks really cool.
Next week, the painting and cleaning should be finished, and I’ll be moving in a few days after that. I’ll have a few weeks in there by myself to get used to it and see if anything needs to be added or changed. Trial by error remodeling, I call it. Then, it will be ready for the new group. Now we just need to set up a decent sound system in the main area for the swing dance party. I’ll get started on the proposal.
Man, it’s nice. Although after the mud hut, anything would seem pretty luxurious. Still, it’s really nice. The floors in every room are marble, and so are the countertops in the kitchen. There are plenty of cupboards and closets in all rooms for storing stuff. Two bedrooms and a bathroom attached to each bedroom make it perfect for accommodating both sexes. My favorite part is the huge common room surrounded by full-length windows that let in a ton of natural light. Plus, a big open space with smooth floors just screams “dance floor.” I hope the new students are interested in learning swing dancing.
Right now, it’s being painted, and a little bit of sealant is being added to the moldings. Other than that, the house is in perfect condition, very clean and new. There’s a stairway connecting to the roof, which is huge, so that will be a wonderful place to read a book on a lazy, hot afternoon. Outlets in every room and broadband availability are good things to have for a bunch of laptop-toting college students, and we got ‘em. We even have a shower in one of the bathrooms. How American.
One of the more interesting features is the vegetable storage mini-closet in the kitchen. It’s a cupboard that opens out to the outside and is shielded from the elements by an awning and a screen fence. You can keep leafy vegetables, potatoes, onions, carrots, peas, basically any vegetables in this storage area, and the cool air at night will keep them fresh. No need for crisping drawers in the fridge. It’s a truly ingenious way to take advantage of the conditions around you for your benefit. And it looks really cool.
Next week, the painting and cleaning should be finished, and I’ll be moving in a few days after that. I’ll have a few weeks in there by myself to get used to it and see if anything needs to be added or changed. Trial by error remodeling, I call it. Then, it will be ready for the new group. Now we just need to set up a decent sound system in the main area for the swing dance party. I’ll get started on the proposal.
21 April 2010
I'll Take You to the Candy Shop
I woke up this morning feeling a little tired and a little stressed out for no reason other than I was a little tired. I hate those days, when you feel yourself slipping into the dark recesses of a bad mood for no reason. Why should I feel down? I haven’t a care in the world, and I’m in India. In The Life of Pi by Yann Martel, I discovered a quote that I have come to appreciate greatly: “A stint in India will beat the restlessness out of any living creature.” I can tell you now from experience that truer words have never been said.
I knew that I had to do something quickly to fix my mood. Off to Gobind Sweet Shop!
Indian sweets are interesting. Nothing is baked, of course, and there are so few raw ingredients from which they are made: sugar, ghee, flour, milk and gram flour are the staples. Flavorings come and go at a whim. As a result, much of it tastes similar, and they all share one quality: overwhelming sweetness over richness. It makes sense for a society that doesn’t get a lot of fat infused in their cuisine. It is, however, somewhat disconcerting after awhile to eat so many desserts that have so little soul, and just sweetness. That’s why I actually don’t eat them too much anymore. Today, however, I knew that a bit (or more) of sweet treats would bring me out of this slump.
There are a lot of sweet shops around here, but I like Gobind because it is definitely one of the cleanest. I prefer gulab jamon and patisa. Gulab jamon are small balls made from flour and milk solids that have been fried and then soaked into sugar syrup. They are usually dark in color due to the caramelization of the sugars in the dough, and are normally flavored with rosewater. Patisa are small squares of flaky gram dough flavored with cardamom. When I said flavored with cardamom, I mean that whole cardamom seeds are put into the dough after it has finished cooking. Which means that as a whole, patisa doesn’t taste like cardamom, until you bite into one of the pods and get a huge overwhelming flavor with it. Otherwise, it’s awesome.
Indians in this area like to eat desserts and sweets before meals, not after. Your mother always probably told you not to have a cookie before dinner because it would ruin your appetite. That’s actually the point in Indian cuisine. If you eat sweets before the meal, you won’t eat as much during the main course. Is this a healthier way to eat? Maybe, but if I went to an Indian wedding, I would just stuff myself with sweets before the food was actually served. I know that’s not healthy.
The good news is that as soon as I bit down on a syrupy gulab jamon, I immediately felt better. The bad news is that I know it’ll be some time before I crave some more Indian sweets. Oh well. Guess I’ll just have to go make ice cream.
I knew that I had to do something quickly to fix my mood. Off to Gobind Sweet Shop!
Indian sweets are interesting. Nothing is baked, of course, and there are so few raw ingredients from which they are made: sugar, ghee, flour, milk and gram flour are the staples. Flavorings come and go at a whim. As a result, much of it tastes similar, and they all share one quality: overwhelming sweetness over richness. It makes sense for a society that doesn’t get a lot of fat infused in their cuisine. It is, however, somewhat disconcerting after awhile to eat so many desserts that have so little soul, and just sweetness. That’s why I actually don’t eat them too much anymore. Today, however, I knew that a bit (or more) of sweet treats would bring me out of this slump.
There are a lot of sweet shops around here, but I like Gobind because it is definitely one of the cleanest. I prefer gulab jamon and patisa. Gulab jamon are small balls made from flour and milk solids that have been fried and then soaked into sugar syrup. They are usually dark in color due to the caramelization of the sugars in the dough, and are normally flavored with rosewater. Patisa are small squares of flaky gram dough flavored with cardamom. When I said flavored with cardamom, I mean that whole cardamom seeds are put into the dough after it has finished cooking. Which means that as a whole, patisa doesn’t taste like cardamom, until you bite into one of the pods and get a huge overwhelming flavor with it. Otherwise, it’s awesome.
Indians in this area like to eat desserts and sweets before meals, not after. Your mother always probably told you not to have a cookie before dinner because it would ruin your appetite. That’s actually the point in Indian cuisine. If you eat sweets before the meal, you won’t eat as much during the main course. Is this a healthier way to eat? Maybe, but if I went to an Indian wedding, I would just stuff myself with sweets before the food was actually served. I know that’s not healthy.
The good news is that as soon as I bit down on a syrupy gulab jamon, I immediately felt better. The bad news is that I know it’ll be some time before I crave some more Indian sweets. Oh well. Guess I’ll just have to go make ice cream.
20 April 2010
To Be or Not to Be a Tourist
Four days ago was 16 April. I landed in Indira Gandhi International Airport in Delhi on 16 January. Which means that I have been in India for officially 3 months. In addition to that, I will leave India on 14 July, a little less than three months ago. Which means that I have reached the halfway point in my Indian adventure. Finally, my thesis and therefore my official internship time, according to MSU, is over. Which means that I will be starting work with GSC and helping out the other 5 MSU students who will be doing summer internships starting at the end of May. Put all of that together, and I know now that I’m not a tourist anymore. I never considered myself one to begin with, but now it’s for sure. I live here.
Which also means that there’s not much to write about. The purpose of writing on this blog is to share cultural learning and societal differences that I experience here. But after three months, there’s not much that surprises me. Even if I do come across a cultural facet that is a little bit interesting and noteworthy, it makes perfect sense in the context of Palampur culture, and it’s not that surprising to me. Because of that, I rarely feel that I should write down my days experience in the blog anymore, because by this point, it’s all business as usual. So, apologies to those who got used to reading something new from me every day (Hi Mom!).
Is that a bad thing? I’m not sure. On one hand, I’ve been here long enough to fit into at least some parts of the culture and I’ve become more comfortable. On the other hand, I’m getting lazy about living here and finding something exciting about everyday life. I was asked if I wanted to go to Amritsar and see the Golden Temple, a beautiful religious monument in Punjab. To be honest, I’m not interested at all. It’s just a temple. If you’ve seen one, you haven’t seen them all, but you might get tired of seeing them. I’d much rather go to Punjab to check out a different cuisine and eat something new and different. That’s my idea of a good trip. Besides, my whole thesis was about gleaning a bit of culture out of local food, and that’s much more fun than a trip to a centuries-old temple.
But fear not, I do have something interesting to write about. Principal Ramdev’s family has opted for an interesting living arrangement. His 16-year-old daughter wants to be an aerospace engineer. The only university in the area to offer a degree in those studies is in Chandigarh. The only way that she will be admitted to that university is if she completes her high school studies from a high school (10+, in the Indian education system) in the same area. As a result, his family decided that his wife and two daughters would move to Chandigarh while he would stay in Palampur and work. For two years. I am very impressed that he and his family would be willing to make such sacrifices so that his daughter can get quality education. In the meantime, I’ve extended a permanent invitation to him to have dinner at the mud hut when he wants. Maybe I will be able to keep his spirits up with a constant supply of American desserts. Heck, it works for me.
Which also means that there’s not much to write about. The purpose of writing on this blog is to share cultural learning and societal differences that I experience here. But after three months, there’s not much that surprises me. Even if I do come across a cultural facet that is a little bit interesting and noteworthy, it makes perfect sense in the context of Palampur culture, and it’s not that surprising to me. Because of that, I rarely feel that I should write down my days experience in the blog anymore, because by this point, it’s all business as usual. So, apologies to those who got used to reading something new from me every day (Hi Mom!).
Is that a bad thing? I’m not sure. On one hand, I’ve been here long enough to fit into at least some parts of the culture and I’ve become more comfortable. On the other hand, I’m getting lazy about living here and finding something exciting about everyday life. I was asked if I wanted to go to Amritsar and see the Golden Temple, a beautiful religious monument in Punjab. To be honest, I’m not interested at all. It’s just a temple. If you’ve seen one, you haven’t seen them all, but you might get tired of seeing them. I’d much rather go to Punjab to check out a different cuisine and eat something new and different. That’s my idea of a good trip. Besides, my whole thesis was about gleaning a bit of culture out of local food, and that’s much more fun than a trip to a centuries-old temple.
But fear not, I do have something interesting to write about. Principal Ramdev’s family has opted for an interesting living arrangement. His 16-year-old daughter wants to be an aerospace engineer. The only university in the area to offer a degree in those studies is in Chandigarh. The only way that she will be admitted to that university is if she completes her high school studies from a high school (10+, in the Indian education system) in the same area. As a result, his family decided that his wife and two daughters would move to Chandigarh while he would stay in Palampur and work. For two years. I am very impressed that he and his family would be willing to make such sacrifices so that his daughter can get quality education. In the meantime, I’ve extended a permanent invitation to him to have dinner at the mud hut when he wants. Maybe I will be able to keep his spirits up with a constant supply of American desserts. Heck, it works for me.
19 April 2010
Maxwell's Silver Knife
The first most useful and important tools in the kitchen are your hands, as long as they’re clean. The second most important tool, without question, is the knife. No tool is as much of a multi-tasker as a good knife, and seldom is a dish made without it. Even if all you eat is microwave dinners, you need something to open up the box, don’t you? The sharper and better knife that you have, the easier and quicker prep work will go. That’s not to say that buying the most expensive knife on the market will turn you into Morimoto. It just means that if you splurge a little on a good quality chef’s knife, take care of it, and spend some time learning how to use it well, your meals will be better, I promise.
If you want to buy a good chef’s knife, and every cook who wants to be worth his salt should have at least one good one, you will probably have to spend a bit more money than you think is necessary. Here are the rules you should follow when picking out quality cutlery:
1. The most expensive knife isn’t necessarily the best.
2. The cheapest knife isn’t necessarily he best.
3. If it’s not comfortable in your hand, it’s not a good knife for you.
4. Try out a knife before you buy it.
5. If you don’t take care of your knife, it will turn on you.
And take care of it you must. A dull knife is much more dangerous in the kitchen than a sharp one, because with a dull knife, you have to push harder to cut. The harder you push, the easier it is to slip and cut of a finger. Not fun.
I’ve tried several of the more expensive and well-known brands, and for my money, the best knife out there for me is a Global chef’s knife. 8 inches is a good size. It fits perfectly in my hand, and requires almost no effort to cut through nearly anything you need to cut. When trying it out at the kitchen store, I barely pushed down on a carrot, and that was all the force it took to cut it in half. Awesome. As an added bonus, Global knives look awesome.
Now, I don’t own one of these beauties yet. But I do want one. On an unrelated note, my birthday is November 5.
Needless to say, there aren’t too many people in India willing to fork over 100 USD (about 5000 rupees here) just for a knife. Take Shammi. He uses a flat, sharpened piece of stainless steel attached to a wooden handle. I’m not sure if you can even call it a knife. It’s about 10 inches long and costs 35 rupees (about 75 cents in the states). With this prison shank, Shammi is able to expertly produce any Indian dish you can think of. Why? Well, for one reason, he’s had a lot of practice with it. But mostly, there’s just not a lot of precision cutting required here. Mostly, all that needs to be done is dice onions and garlic, disassemble a head of cauliflower, or shred cabbage. Oh, and when he brings in the chicken for my once-weekly non-veg meal, the kitchen turns into a scene out of Psycho. It ain’t pretty.
I have also used this same poor excuse for a knife for the past 3 months, and strangely enough, I’m getting used to it too. I can still cut an onion and dice garlic, and it gets the job done. It’s not perfect, but my meals are still delicious. If I’ve said it once, I’ve said it a thousand times: a person can get used to anything.
So does that mean I’ve rethought buying my $100 Global knife when I get back? Not a chance. Two reasons. First, if definitely does do the job faster and better. Second, it’s sexy as hell. ‘Nuff said.
If you want to buy a good chef’s knife, and every cook who wants to be worth his salt should have at least one good one, you will probably have to spend a bit more money than you think is necessary. Here are the rules you should follow when picking out quality cutlery:
1. The most expensive knife isn’t necessarily the best.
2. The cheapest knife isn’t necessarily he best.
3. If it’s not comfortable in your hand, it’s not a good knife for you.
4. Try out a knife before you buy it.
5. If you don’t take care of your knife, it will turn on you.
And take care of it you must. A dull knife is much more dangerous in the kitchen than a sharp one, because with a dull knife, you have to push harder to cut. The harder you push, the easier it is to slip and cut of a finger. Not fun.
I’ve tried several of the more expensive and well-known brands, and for my money, the best knife out there for me is a Global chef’s knife. 8 inches is a good size. It fits perfectly in my hand, and requires almost no effort to cut through nearly anything you need to cut. When trying it out at the kitchen store, I barely pushed down on a carrot, and that was all the force it took to cut it in half. Awesome. As an added bonus, Global knives look awesome.
Now, I don’t own one of these beauties yet. But I do want one. On an unrelated note, my birthday is November 5.
Needless to say, there aren’t too many people in India willing to fork over 100 USD (about 5000 rupees here) just for a knife. Take Shammi. He uses a flat, sharpened piece of stainless steel attached to a wooden handle. I’m not sure if you can even call it a knife. It’s about 10 inches long and costs 35 rupees (about 75 cents in the states). With this prison shank, Shammi is able to expertly produce any Indian dish you can think of. Why? Well, for one reason, he’s had a lot of practice with it. But mostly, there’s just not a lot of precision cutting required here. Mostly, all that needs to be done is dice onions and garlic, disassemble a head of cauliflower, or shred cabbage. Oh, and when he brings in the chicken for my once-weekly non-veg meal, the kitchen turns into a scene out of Psycho. It ain’t pretty.
I have also used this same poor excuse for a knife for the past 3 months, and strangely enough, I’m getting used to it too. I can still cut an onion and dice garlic, and it gets the job done. It’s not perfect, but my meals are still delicious. If I’ve said it once, I’ve said it a thousand times: a person can get used to anything.
So does that mean I’ve rethought buying my $100 Global knife when I get back? Not a chance. Two reasons. First, if definitely does do the job faster and better. Second, it’s sexy as hell. ‘Nuff said.
16 April 2010
Absence Makes the Thesis Get Written Faster
I apologize for not writing on this blog for so long. There are several reasons for it.
1. There’s not much to do at KLB these days. Exams are still going on, the hostel students have locked themselves in their rooms to study, and Principal Ramdev isn’t at school this week to ask me to make brownies or candy.
2. There’s a two-day holiday. No school anyway. Again, not much to do.
3. I’ve taken the opportunity to write my final paper on what I’ve learned about Palampur culture for my internship credit. The first draft is finished. I just have to polish it up.
4. When I’m spending several days exhausting my writing creativity on my thesis, which is basically and extended version of my blog, I really don’t feel much like writing when I get home.
5. I realized that I missed the entire first half of the last season of Lost. Gotta catch up. If you’ve never seen it, don’t. It’s addicting. Once you start, you can’t stop.
6. There’s some work to do to get ready for the next batch of MSU students who are coming here in late May, including getting a new house. Looks like I’ll be moving out of the mud hut.
Now, I have a very important question. Are they on the island, or aren’t they? Somebody help me, I’m so confused!
1. There’s not much to do at KLB these days. Exams are still going on, the hostel students have locked themselves in their rooms to study, and Principal Ramdev isn’t at school this week to ask me to make brownies or candy.
2. There’s a two-day holiday. No school anyway. Again, not much to do.
3. I’ve taken the opportunity to write my final paper on what I’ve learned about Palampur culture for my internship credit. The first draft is finished. I just have to polish it up.
4. When I’m spending several days exhausting my writing creativity on my thesis, which is basically and extended version of my blog, I really don’t feel much like writing when I get home.
5. I realized that I missed the entire first half of the last season of Lost. Gotta catch up. If you’ve never seen it, don’t. It’s addicting. Once you start, you can’t stop.
6. There’s some work to do to get ready for the next batch of MSU students who are coming here in late May, including getting a new house. Looks like I’ll be moving out of the mud hut.
Now, I have a very important question. Are they on the island, or aren’t they? Somebody help me, I’m so confused!
12 April 2010
Cake, MacGyver Style
I like cake.
A lot.
There are so many things in America that I simply don’t miss. I like not having what I’m used to. Every day is a little bit of a challenge getting by without some things that I once considered necessary. Showers, easy transportation, fast internet, and cheap phone calls are just a few things. Even foods that I loved eating in America, I don’t miss very much. Things like peanut butter sandwiches, cookies, breakfast cereal and yeast bread used to be a part of my daily fare, but I don’t get a bite of them anymore. And that’s okay. I’m eating a completely different diet, and enjoying it. I just don’t miss any food from back home.
Except for cake.
I haven’t stopped thinking about it since I got here. I just love it so much. Moist, soft layers blanketed by sweet, buttery (usually European-style) icing and flavored by exotic combinations of chocolate, caramel, vanilla or something else exciting, all stacked neatly together in an ordered arrangement… well, that’s my idea of perfection. Cake is the one food that I always eat slowly, because in a good cake, every bite is a masterful symphony on my taste buds. You have to slow down to really enjoy it. On top of that, if a baker has even a little bit of know-how and ingenuity, a cake is turned into a blank canvas on which they can execute a wide range of edible decorations that just adds to the wonderfulness that is a piece of cake. Yep, there’s nothing like cake.
Especially in India. Sure, you can go to one of the bakeries here and buy of piece of what they call cake. But you won’t like it, I promise you. It’s dry, tasteless sponge hastily shrouded in a simple white icing which lacks soul as much as it does flavor. It’s just sweet, and nothing else. I remember purchasing one within two weeks of arriving, and after two bites I stopped eating it. It’s not that it’s bad, it’s just not good at all. There’s nothing to it. In my opinion, cake here needs a great deal of improvement. Oh, and don’t worry, this has very little to do with influencing the culture or introducing Indians to new foods. I was just really jonesing for a good piece of cake, and willing to go to pretty good lengths to procure it.
The plan was set into motion several weeks ago when I made brownies for Principal Ramdev’s wife. I may have mentioned before that I discovered it was possible to make brownies in a microwave, which is exactly what I was doing at the time. It just so happened that the plastic container in which these particular brownies were being nuked was perfectly round, about 6 inches in diameter, and the resulting brownies slipped easily out of the container after they were finished. It got me thinking, if you can make brownies in the microwave, why not a cake? It’s almost the same thing, just a batter risen by baking soda, and using a round container would yield cake rounds ready to be split into layers and frosted. I almost hit myself for not thinking of it before. I realized that yes, I can make a cake in India, despite lacking what I would consider to be common ingredients and equipment. I just needed to think outside of the cake box a little bit.
Next, I needed to find a recipe that could be easily mixed without beating butter and sugar. While the creaming method tends to produce the best flavor and texture, it would be nearly impossible to achieve the desired texture by hand, and by hand is the only way you get things in India. No electric beaters to be found here, no sir. I also decided almost immediately not to try and do this project without eggs. It’s possible, sure, but not this time. As I mentioned before, this was for me more than it was for anybody else. Not just the eating of the cake, but the cooking and construction of it are things that I am very good at doing, and I have missed doing them (and eating the results) for the past 3 months. What can I say, I’m like a cake junkie.
Armed with a simple but delicious chocolate cake recipe from my overseas culinary consultant, I had to next select the frosting, and in my mind, a buttercream was an absolute necessity. Standard American buttercream frostings (commonly known as “crunchy” frostings) are nothing but a mixture of butter and sugar, and are far too sweet for my taste. Meringue-style buttercreams, common to European recipes, call for some combination of eggs and sugar cooked and beaten, and are then fortified with butter. These are by far the tastiest, and also the most difficult to produce. I choose the Swiss method, which does not require cooking sugar syrup, but still needs up to an hour of hard beating. I don’t have Popeye forearms, and have thought it would be impossible to make a meringue frosting by hand, but that was before I came to India. In the past several weeks, I made a variety of whipped items, including marshmallows and divinity candy. I felt confident that I could produce a whipped frosting by hand. My flavor of choice would be leftover dulce de leche beaten into the finished frosting.
One problem with making a cake in India is that bakery-quality pastries often require a certain amount of waste to produce a well-decorated product. One must use only the egg whites in the frosting, the sides of the cake should be cut to get straight sides, and any frosting that gets cake crumbs in it can’t be used on the cake itself. I’ve worked in a bakery before, and was trained to decorate cakes with some necessary waste, but I knew that wouldn’t go over to well with Mrs. Singh, whose microwave and kitchen I would be using to make the cake. That’s why I used the egg yolks leftover from the frosting to make simple chocolate custard that I would put in between the cake layers. Instead of trimming the layers to make the sides straight, I would just use a slightly thicker layer of icing to make it look flat. And I would just have to be extra careful to get as few crumbs in the frosting as possible.
I must say, when I finally made the cake yesterday, after planning it for at least two weeks, everything went much better than expected. The frosting whipped up well (after a good 45 minutes of beating it by hand), the custard came together, and the microwave cooked the cake layers perfectly. I improvised much of the common decorating equipment, like a turn table and an icing spatula, with stuff that I found around the kitchen. Best of all, the result turned out to be 90% as good as the best cake I’ve ever eaten, at least by my judgment. Sure, it may have been because I haven’t eaten a cake in 3 months, but still, I think the quality of it was right up there with any other that I’ve eaten.
Why should anybody reading this care about me making cake? Well, the way I see it, this cake is a representation of how much I’ve learned so far, and how well I’ve adapted to India. Almost 3 months ago when I arrived, Principal Ramdev asked if I could make American-style pastries and improve upon the recipes here. I told him that without a proper oven, powered mixer, American ingredients, and specialized decorating tools, it would be impossible. Clearly I was wrong. Now I know that I just need to step outside of my comfort zone. From now on, everything will be better.
Because now I have cake!
A lot.
There are so many things in America that I simply don’t miss. I like not having what I’m used to. Every day is a little bit of a challenge getting by without some things that I once considered necessary. Showers, easy transportation, fast internet, and cheap phone calls are just a few things. Even foods that I loved eating in America, I don’t miss very much. Things like peanut butter sandwiches, cookies, breakfast cereal and yeast bread used to be a part of my daily fare, but I don’t get a bite of them anymore. And that’s okay. I’m eating a completely different diet, and enjoying it. I just don’t miss any food from back home.
Except for cake.
I haven’t stopped thinking about it since I got here. I just love it so much. Moist, soft layers blanketed by sweet, buttery (usually European-style) icing and flavored by exotic combinations of chocolate, caramel, vanilla or something else exciting, all stacked neatly together in an ordered arrangement… well, that’s my idea of perfection. Cake is the one food that I always eat slowly, because in a good cake, every bite is a masterful symphony on my taste buds. You have to slow down to really enjoy it. On top of that, if a baker has even a little bit of know-how and ingenuity, a cake is turned into a blank canvas on which they can execute a wide range of edible decorations that just adds to the wonderfulness that is a piece of cake. Yep, there’s nothing like cake.
Especially in India. Sure, you can go to one of the bakeries here and buy of piece of what they call cake. But you won’t like it, I promise you. It’s dry, tasteless sponge hastily shrouded in a simple white icing which lacks soul as much as it does flavor. It’s just sweet, and nothing else. I remember purchasing one within two weeks of arriving, and after two bites I stopped eating it. It’s not that it’s bad, it’s just not good at all. There’s nothing to it. In my opinion, cake here needs a great deal of improvement. Oh, and don’t worry, this has very little to do with influencing the culture or introducing Indians to new foods. I was just really jonesing for a good piece of cake, and willing to go to pretty good lengths to procure it.
The plan was set into motion several weeks ago when I made brownies for Principal Ramdev’s wife. I may have mentioned before that I discovered it was possible to make brownies in a microwave, which is exactly what I was doing at the time. It just so happened that the plastic container in which these particular brownies were being nuked was perfectly round, about 6 inches in diameter, and the resulting brownies slipped easily out of the container after they were finished. It got me thinking, if you can make brownies in the microwave, why not a cake? It’s almost the same thing, just a batter risen by baking soda, and using a round container would yield cake rounds ready to be split into layers and frosted. I almost hit myself for not thinking of it before. I realized that yes, I can make a cake in India, despite lacking what I would consider to be common ingredients and equipment. I just needed to think outside of the cake box a little bit.
Next, I needed to find a recipe that could be easily mixed without beating butter and sugar. While the creaming method tends to produce the best flavor and texture, it would be nearly impossible to achieve the desired texture by hand, and by hand is the only way you get things in India. No electric beaters to be found here, no sir. I also decided almost immediately not to try and do this project without eggs. It’s possible, sure, but not this time. As I mentioned before, this was for me more than it was for anybody else. Not just the eating of the cake, but the cooking and construction of it are things that I am very good at doing, and I have missed doing them (and eating the results) for the past 3 months. What can I say, I’m like a cake junkie.
Armed with a simple but delicious chocolate cake recipe from my overseas culinary consultant, I had to next select the frosting, and in my mind, a buttercream was an absolute necessity. Standard American buttercream frostings (commonly known as “crunchy” frostings) are nothing but a mixture of butter and sugar, and are far too sweet for my taste. Meringue-style buttercreams, common to European recipes, call for some combination of eggs and sugar cooked and beaten, and are then fortified with butter. These are by far the tastiest, and also the most difficult to produce. I choose the Swiss method, which does not require cooking sugar syrup, but still needs up to an hour of hard beating. I don’t have Popeye forearms, and have thought it would be impossible to make a meringue frosting by hand, but that was before I came to India. In the past several weeks, I made a variety of whipped items, including marshmallows and divinity candy. I felt confident that I could produce a whipped frosting by hand. My flavor of choice would be leftover dulce de leche beaten into the finished frosting.
One problem with making a cake in India is that bakery-quality pastries often require a certain amount of waste to produce a well-decorated product. One must use only the egg whites in the frosting, the sides of the cake should be cut to get straight sides, and any frosting that gets cake crumbs in it can’t be used on the cake itself. I’ve worked in a bakery before, and was trained to decorate cakes with some necessary waste, but I knew that wouldn’t go over to well with Mrs. Singh, whose microwave and kitchen I would be using to make the cake. That’s why I used the egg yolks leftover from the frosting to make simple chocolate custard that I would put in between the cake layers. Instead of trimming the layers to make the sides straight, I would just use a slightly thicker layer of icing to make it look flat. And I would just have to be extra careful to get as few crumbs in the frosting as possible.
I must say, when I finally made the cake yesterday, after planning it for at least two weeks, everything went much better than expected. The frosting whipped up well (after a good 45 minutes of beating it by hand), the custard came together, and the microwave cooked the cake layers perfectly. I improvised much of the common decorating equipment, like a turn table and an icing spatula, with stuff that I found around the kitchen. Best of all, the result turned out to be 90% as good as the best cake I’ve ever eaten, at least by my judgment. Sure, it may have been because I haven’t eaten a cake in 3 months, but still, I think the quality of it was right up there with any other that I’ve eaten.
Why should anybody reading this care about me making cake? Well, the way I see it, this cake is a representation of how much I’ve learned so far, and how well I’ve adapted to India. Almost 3 months ago when I arrived, Principal Ramdev asked if I could make American-style pastries and improve upon the recipes here. I told him that without a proper oven, powered mixer, American ingredients, and specialized decorating tools, it would be impossible. Clearly I was wrong. Now I know that I just need to step outside of my comfort zone. From now on, everything will be better.
Because now I have cake!
10 April 2010
You Say Yes, I Say No
There are at least two things that Indians do that would be considered very rude by Westerners who come to India for the first time.
One is that Indians are always interrupting. Whether it’s cutting in front of you in line at a store or interjecting their completely unrelated thoughts into a private conversation, they do not hesitate to put themselves before others. Their needs and their thoughts always come first, and that’s okay.
The other thing is that Indians always nod and say yes. All the time. Especially when they don’t understand you.
“Shammi, can you purchase more eggs? There are no eggs in the mud hut.” (Notice the use of simple words that are easy to understand)
“Ha, yes, okay.”
“You understand?”
“Ha, eggs, yeah.”
Don’t expect eggs anytime soon.
This is the case with every single Indian I have met. No exception. They always nod and say yes and agree with you, even if they don’t have a clue what you are saying. It’s very easy to get confused. The trick is to just assume that don’t actually understand you, regardless of what they say.
I asked Principal Ramdev what he thought about that and where it might come from. His opinion is that it stems from primary education in India. Whenever you are asked a question in school, you are always expected to have the right answer. “I don’t know” is not acceptable. So if a teacher is doing a lecture and asks if you understand the material, Indians instinctively respond in the affirmative for fear of being reprimanded. I know that at least in my education, I was encouraged to speak up if I didn’t understand what I was learning, if I wanted it made clearer. That just isn’t the case here.
When you go to India, just assume that “yes” means “no.” It will make life easier.
One is that Indians are always interrupting. Whether it’s cutting in front of you in line at a store or interjecting their completely unrelated thoughts into a private conversation, they do not hesitate to put themselves before others. Their needs and their thoughts always come first, and that’s okay.
The other thing is that Indians always nod and say yes. All the time. Especially when they don’t understand you.
“Shammi, can you purchase more eggs? There are no eggs in the mud hut.” (Notice the use of simple words that are easy to understand)
“Ha, yes, okay.”
“You understand?”
“Ha, eggs, yeah.”
Don’t expect eggs anytime soon.
This is the case with every single Indian I have met. No exception. They always nod and say yes and agree with you, even if they don’t have a clue what you are saying. It’s very easy to get confused. The trick is to just assume that don’t actually understand you, regardless of what they say.
I asked Principal Ramdev what he thought about that and where it might come from. His opinion is that it stems from primary education in India. Whenever you are asked a question in school, you are always expected to have the right answer. “I don’t know” is not acceptable. So if a teacher is doing a lecture and asks if you understand the material, Indians instinctively respond in the affirmative for fear of being reprimanded. I know that at least in my education, I was encouraged to speak up if I didn’t understand what I was learning, if I wanted it made clearer. That just isn’t the case here.
When you go to India, just assume that “yes” means “no.” It will make life easier.
Chewing on the Fat
Before I came to India, I was a vegetarian. It was really more about curiosity than anything else. I wanted to see what that kind of lifestyle was like, so for two years, I avoided meat and fish (but ate eggs) almost exclusively. Since I considered myself a hardcore foodie, I had the occasional homemade sausage in Hungary, seafood dish in Croatia or plate of sushi, but if I ate meat more frequently than once a month I felt bad about it. It wasn’t in protest of cruelty to animals, destruction of the environment, wasteful meat production or staying health. Honestly, I was just curious.
Then at yesterday’s dinner, I was working hard to get the tiny amount of marrow out of the middle of the chicken bone when I stopped myself and realized what I was doing. Um, what happened in the past three months to get me to enjoy sucking the fat out of a recently living animal’s bone because it tasted so good?
First of all, I’m not a hypocrite. Choosing to not eat meat most of the time but eating it every month or so is the same as everybody else, if you think about it. We all make irrational food choices for various reasons, or sometimes no reasons at all, even when (especially when) they don’t make any sense. When I was a kid, I wouldn’t touch nuts, believing that I was allergic and my throat would close up if I ate them… except I loved peanut butter. Many Americans avoid bean and legume products like the plague, while Indians don’t even think about eating beef. Choosing not to eat meat is just another one of those irrational choices.
Now, here’s my opinion about eating meat. Keep in mind that this is just my opinion, and I don’t expect everybody to agree with me. I think that the average American eats too much meat, while the average North Indian doesn’t eat enough. 3-5 servings per week are pretty good. Meat is a very important source of iron and a good way to get your protein. Plus it tastes delicious. On the other side of the coin, it usually contains high amounts of saturated fat and can lead to cardiovascular problems later in life. As with all other foods, and pretty much anything else in life, there is a balance that can give you all the benefits of eating meat without all the negative side effects. That’s called moderation, and it’s a good thing.
I think that Americans eat too much meat because 2-3 servings a day, which is average for some people I know, give you way more protein and iron than you need. Plus, the high demand for meat has led to immoral and environmentally destructive livestock and poultry production in the states, but talking more about that is a whole ‘nother can of worms that I’d rather not open right now. We eat so much because it’s cheap, easy, and culturally acceptable. I think that Himachali North Indians don’t eat enough meat, because their consumption of iron is way too low, while protein and fat levels could stand to be just a little higher. They eat so little of it because it’s expensive and hard to store in these environmental and economic conditions. Moral of the story: nobody’s perfect, and everybody is a slave to their culture when it comes to the food they eat.
Back to sucking on bones. When people around here do eat meat, they eat it differently. No boneless, skinless chicken breasts here, no thank you. Shammi goes to a (clean and well-reputed) roadside stand before dinner, orders a whole chicken, and cooks it that day. Oh, and there’s a dire need for butchering skills here. Both Shammi and the butchers here just hack at a carcass until it’s the right weight or shape, regardless of the bones. Then, the dish is cooked with the bones and internal organs helping enrich the sauce. Bones and offal contain the best, richest flavor of the mammal, so using them in the dish is a really good thing. Sure, eating your food is a little bit more work, but it certainly tastes better, and working around the bones forces you to slow down and appreciate it more. When you’re done with the dish, the bones are there to suck on and get some more flavor from your dinner even after it is finished.
In the book Julie & Julia (I know it’s a chick book, but it’s funny, dammit), the narrator brings up an anecdote about feeding a double cheeseburger to a vegetarian of three years, who promptly vomited after a single bite. Which, you know, is what happens “when you do something as silly as not eating meat.” I must say that I have to agree with her. If nothing else, being in India has taught me that meat is a good thing, just not all the time.
Then at yesterday’s dinner, I was working hard to get the tiny amount of marrow out of the middle of the chicken bone when I stopped myself and realized what I was doing. Um, what happened in the past three months to get me to enjoy sucking the fat out of a recently living animal’s bone because it tasted so good?
First of all, I’m not a hypocrite. Choosing to not eat meat most of the time but eating it every month or so is the same as everybody else, if you think about it. We all make irrational food choices for various reasons, or sometimes no reasons at all, even when (especially when) they don’t make any sense. When I was a kid, I wouldn’t touch nuts, believing that I was allergic and my throat would close up if I ate them… except I loved peanut butter. Many Americans avoid bean and legume products like the plague, while Indians don’t even think about eating beef. Choosing not to eat meat is just another one of those irrational choices.
Now, here’s my opinion about eating meat. Keep in mind that this is just my opinion, and I don’t expect everybody to agree with me. I think that the average American eats too much meat, while the average North Indian doesn’t eat enough. 3-5 servings per week are pretty good. Meat is a very important source of iron and a good way to get your protein. Plus it tastes delicious. On the other side of the coin, it usually contains high amounts of saturated fat and can lead to cardiovascular problems later in life. As with all other foods, and pretty much anything else in life, there is a balance that can give you all the benefits of eating meat without all the negative side effects. That’s called moderation, and it’s a good thing.
I think that Americans eat too much meat because 2-3 servings a day, which is average for some people I know, give you way more protein and iron than you need. Plus, the high demand for meat has led to immoral and environmentally destructive livestock and poultry production in the states, but talking more about that is a whole ‘nother can of worms that I’d rather not open right now. We eat so much because it’s cheap, easy, and culturally acceptable. I think that Himachali North Indians don’t eat enough meat, because their consumption of iron is way too low, while protein and fat levels could stand to be just a little higher. They eat so little of it because it’s expensive and hard to store in these environmental and economic conditions. Moral of the story: nobody’s perfect, and everybody is a slave to their culture when it comes to the food they eat.
Back to sucking on bones. When people around here do eat meat, they eat it differently. No boneless, skinless chicken breasts here, no thank you. Shammi goes to a (clean and well-reputed) roadside stand before dinner, orders a whole chicken, and cooks it that day. Oh, and there’s a dire need for butchering skills here. Both Shammi and the butchers here just hack at a carcass until it’s the right weight or shape, regardless of the bones. Then, the dish is cooked with the bones and internal organs helping enrich the sauce. Bones and offal contain the best, richest flavor of the mammal, so using them in the dish is a really good thing. Sure, eating your food is a little bit more work, but it certainly tastes better, and working around the bones forces you to slow down and appreciate it more. When you’re done with the dish, the bones are there to suck on and get some more flavor from your dinner even after it is finished.
In the book Julie & Julia (I know it’s a chick book, but it’s funny, dammit), the narrator brings up an anecdote about feeding a double cheeseburger to a vegetarian of three years, who promptly vomited after a single bite. Which, you know, is what happens “when you do something as silly as not eating meat.” I must say that I have to agree with her. If nothing else, being in India has taught me that meat is a good thing, just not all the time.
08 April 2010
Senioritis is Universal
Yesterday was a farewell party for the Bachelor’s of Business Administration (BBA) seniors. Tomorrow is another farewell party for the Bachelor’s of Computer Applications (BCA) seniors. Which means today, ain’t nobody coming in to school. I guess you have senioritis even in other countries besides the U.S.
Well, I suppose I can take the time to get started on my semester thesis. I don’t really want to, but… Looks like senioritis is contagious.
Well, I suppose I can take the time to get started on my semester thesis. I don’t really want to, but… Looks like senioritis is contagious.
07 April 2010
Desi Girl
Another graduating party at KLB. Another awkward beauty pageant. Another lunch of delicious bhatura that I helped make. Another round of gorgeous girls in saris that want to take a picture with me. But this time, I was thinking about something else that stood out from today’s events.
As part of the ear-shattering musical lineup, the song “Desi Girl” from the movie Dostana was played. At least 5 times.
Bollywood music is a fascinating phenomenon that I know so little about, but it is so culturally important that it would be a disservice not to at least mention some of its qualities. First of all, notice that I identified the song by which movie it was from, not the recording artist. That’s because nearly every Hindi song in India is from a movie, not an album. If a song is in a local dialect, like Punjabi or Tamil, these are released in albums, but by and large, these songs are typically only enjoyed in their particular area. For the most part, the popular music that Indians listen to comes from Bollywood. These songs are featured as music videos in films sung by famous actors and actresses. As a result, the actual musicians who write and record the song are not very well known. The actors get most of the credit.
Another feature of the music is the glamour and glitz granted by the videos. Songs produced on their own wouldn’t be nearly as popular if they weren’t accompanied by the dance-filled video where they were feature. Additionally, all the dancing for the songs is an attempt to copy the dance style seen on the video. Two girls did a dance performance to “Desi Girl” at the party, and when I looked up the music video later, I saw that they were trying to dance exactly the same way Priyanka Chopra was dancing in the film. It’s like they were brainwashed. Hindi songs are nothing without their dancing. I realized this about a month ago, when I was playing some American music for girls in the hostel. One of them looked at my computer and asked, “Where is the dancing?”
Plus, all of the songs that I heard today are from movies that have been released in the past 3 years. Apparently, these songs don’t have much saying power. As soon as the next big hit is out, the last one is forgotten. I like classic music, like jazz, blues, and even some 30’s swing, but Hindi music is all prepubescent. There’s so much new material that comes out every year, a song that lasts 10 years in India is already considered to be an oldie.
Hindi music is catchy, repetitive and easy to dance to, if you like that music. It’s best when played so loudly you can’t hear yourself think, and it must be accompanied at all times with a huge smile on your face and a gorgeous woman at your hip. Personally, I can’t really get into it. I like it because of the huge role that it plays in Indian culture, and that in itself is fascinating, but you won’t see me jamming out to “Zoobi Doobi” on my iPod anytime soon.
As part of the ear-shattering musical lineup, the song “Desi Girl” from the movie Dostana was played. At least 5 times.
Bollywood music is a fascinating phenomenon that I know so little about, but it is so culturally important that it would be a disservice not to at least mention some of its qualities. First of all, notice that I identified the song by which movie it was from, not the recording artist. That’s because nearly every Hindi song in India is from a movie, not an album. If a song is in a local dialect, like Punjabi or Tamil, these are released in albums, but by and large, these songs are typically only enjoyed in their particular area. For the most part, the popular music that Indians listen to comes from Bollywood. These songs are featured as music videos in films sung by famous actors and actresses. As a result, the actual musicians who write and record the song are not very well known. The actors get most of the credit.
Another feature of the music is the glamour and glitz granted by the videos. Songs produced on their own wouldn’t be nearly as popular if they weren’t accompanied by the dance-filled video where they were feature. Additionally, all the dancing for the songs is an attempt to copy the dance style seen on the video. Two girls did a dance performance to “Desi Girl” at the party, and when I looked up the music video later, I saw that they were trying to dance exactly the same way Priyanka Chopra was dancing in the film. It’s like they were brainwashed. Hindi songs are nothing without their dancing. I realized this about a month ago, when I was playing some American music for girls in the hostel. One of them looked at my computer and asked, “Where is the dancing?”
Plus, all of the songs that I heard today are from movies that have been released in the past 3 years. Apparently, these songs don’t have much saying power. As soon as the next big hit is out, the last one is forgotten. I like classic music, like jazz, blues, and even some 30’s swing, but Hindi music is all prepubescent. There’s so much new material that comes out every year, a song that lasts 10 years in India is already considered to be an oldie.
Hindi music is catchy, repetitive and easy to dance to, if you like that music. It’s best when played so loudly you can’t hear yourself think, and it must be accompanied at all times with a huge smile on your face and a gorgeous woman at your hip. Personally, I can’t really get into it. I like it because of the huge role that it plays in Indian culture, and that in itself is fascinating, but you won’t see me jamming out to “Zoobi Doobi” on my iPod anytime soon.
Under Pressure
One of the things that I like about food so much is that it makes sense. I like science, and cooking is science. The potatoes are done when they’re soft because heat converts indigestible starch to digestible sugars. Cakes and quick breads are fluffy and light because the chemical reaction caused by baking soda and an acid creates carbon dioxide. Bread rises because yeast eats sugar and creates gas. It’s like a perfect equation of chemistry when so many raw ingredients come together in the right order with the correct application of heat to create something delicious.
I’m a nerd.
The problem is that most people, at least the people that I know from the states, don’t care about these things. They don’t think about how food cooks, as long as it cooks. Instead of learning a technique, they learn recipes. Recipes don’t teach you how to cook food; they teach you how to cook a single dish and nothing else. Unfortunately, that’s what Americans like. They are comfortable with cooking methods and ingredients that are familiar and easy to understand, as well as ingredients and recipes that are forgiving of inexperienced cooks. It is for these reasons why pressure cookers aren’t common in American kitchens.
A pressure cooker is basically a heavy pot with an airtight lid. Middle school science class dictates that the boiling point of water is not constant, and is affected by the pressure of the surrounding environment. If the pressure of a fluid being boiled increases, then the boiling point also increases. That’s because the water molecules that are becoming heated need to overcome more pressure to change into gas molecules and escape the pot. More energy is needed to do so, and thus, the boiling point is higher. If the pressure is lower (like when air pressure decreases with increased elevation), then less energy is needed to reach a boil, and the boiling point is therefore lower.
What does this mean for cooking? If you are boiling food to cook it in an elevated area like Palampur, then the temperature of the boiling water is actually less than 100 degrees Centigrade. That means the food will take longer to cook. Even if you are at sea level, food still takes awhile to cook by boiling. A pressure cooker speeds up cooking considerably, because the sealed container artificially increases the surrounding air pressure and increases the boiling point. It means that the water in the pressure cooker that’s being used to cook the food is much higher than 100 degrees centigrade. Higher temperature means faster cooking.
Really, a huge nerd.
If you’re worried about the whole pot exploding because of too much pressure, don’t. Any pressure cooker manufactured in the past 50 years, even in India, comes with a little valve on the top of the pot that releases a small amount of steam when the pressure increases to a certain point. As the steam is released, the pressure decreases a little, then increases again until it trips the valve and releases more steam. That way, the pressure that’s needed to blow up a heavy duty pot is never reached. That’s a good thing, because shards of hot metal exploding will really wreck your day, not to mention your wallpaper.
The problem is that they’re not ideal for precision cooking on the fly. You can’t see and observe the food as it’s being cooking, which means that you have to rely upon experience and memorization about the cooking times for various foodstuffs. That’s bad for Americans who like to know everything about their food and good for Indians who are really good at memorizing stuff without questioning it. Also, there are certain foods that normally require long boiling times: legumes, beans, pulses, tough cuts of meat, homemade stock from bones, whole potatoes, and the like. Americans typically don’t eat those foods much, and when they do, they’re usually packaged or prepared by somebody else. Think, when was the last time you cooked dry beans, homemade beef broth or lamb shank from scratch? Didn’t think so. On the other hand, these are the kinds of foods that Indians eat on a daily basis (minus the beef broth).
Besides that reason, pressure cookers are in every Himachal kitchen for two more reasons. First is that most of the state is elevated, and using a pressure cooker means that food takes the same time to cook no matter the elevation. The other very good reason is that it’s much, much quicker. Less cooking time means less fuel used. Less waste is a good thing.
I admit that before coming here, I was a little wary of pressure cookers, but I’ve gotten a bit more comfortable with them. In fact, yesterday I used it in a completely new way for people around here to create a confection common to South America called dulce de leche. It’s a fantastic concoction made from caramelized milk, and using a pressure cooker to make it is also a really really cool science lesson (if learning while cooking is your idea of fun). Caramel tastes really good, but that’s just caramelized sucrose. Milk contains lactose, not sucrose, which caramelizes differently and tastes even better. The traditional way to make dulce de leche is to combine a lot of milk and sugar and cook it over low heat for 4 hours stirring constantly until it has reduced by three-quarters. I don’t know about you, but stirring for 4 hours while keeping the gas on isn’t exactly my idea of a good time.
Worry not, there’s a shortcut. Take a normal metal can of sweetened condensed milk, put it in a pressure cooker, cover it by at least an inch of water, and cook it for 40 minutes after the valve starts whistling. No, I’m not an idiot (Shammi looked at me like I was one when I showed him what I was doing). Yes, boiling a sealed canister normally is a really bad idea. Not this time. If you just put an unopened metal can over heat, it’ll explode. But by using a pressure cooker, the increased pressure created inside the can of condensed milk while it heats, which would normally cause it to blow up, is counteracted by the pressure created by the cooker. That’s why you have to cover it completely by water, so the force is evenly distributed all the way around the can.
Yes, I’m a nerd, get over it!
After the cooker is completely cooled, you can open it and take out the can. Don’t try to speed up the process by pouring water over it, and don’t even think about opening the can until it has completely cooled, because if you rush it, then the can will explode and you’ll be sorry. It’d be best to cook it at night, turn off the heat, and wait until morning to even touch the pot. Your patience will be rewarded with a delectable treat that you can use to fill a cake, spread over toast, pour over ice cream, whip into frosting or (my favorite) just eat off a spoon. All because you used a little bit of science and technology and bothered to learn about why something cooks instead of just how to cook it. Just wait, soon you’ll be as much of a nerd as I am.
In the food business, it is often said that if you want something, you can have it fast, good and cheap, but you can only pick two of those. With a pressure cooker, you can have all three.
I’m a nerd.
The problem is that most people, at least the people that I know from the states, don’t care about these things. They don’t think about how food cooks, as long as it cooks. Instead of learning a technique, they learn recipes. Recipes don’t teach you how to cook food; they teach you how to cook a single dish and nothing else. Unfortunately, that’s what Americans like. They are comfortable with cooking methods and ingredients that are familiar and easy to understand, as well as ingredients and recipes that are forgiving of inexperienced cooks. It is for these reasons why pressure cookers aren’t common in American kitchens.
A pressure cooker is basically a heavy pot with an airtight lid. Middle school science class dictates that the boiling point of water is not constant, and is affected by the pressure of the surrounding environment. If the pressure of a fluid being boiled increases, then the boiling point also increases. That’s because the water molecules that are becoming heated need to overcome more pressure to change into gas molecules and escape the pot. More energy is needed to do so, and thus, the boiling point is higher. If the pressure is lower (like when air pressure decreases with increased elevation), then less energy is needed to reach a boil, and the boiling point is therefore lower.
What does this mean for cooking? If you are boiling food to cook it in an elevated area like Palampur, then the temperature of the boiling water is actually less than 100 degrees Centigrade. That means the food will take longer to cook. Even if you are at sea level, food still takes awhile to cook by boiling. A pressure cooker speeds up cooking considerably, because the sealed container artificially increases the surrounding air pressure and increases the boiling point. It means that the water in the pressure cooker that’s being used to cook the food is much higher than 100 degrees centigrade. Higher temperature means faster cooking.
Really, a huge nerd.
If you’re worried about the whole pot exploding because of too much pressure, don’t. Any pressure cooker manufactured in the past 50 years, even in India, comes with a little valve on the top of the pot that releases a small amount of steam when the pressure increases to a certain point. As the steam is released, the pressure decreases a little, then increases again until it trips the valve and releases more steam. That way, the pressure that’s needed to blow up a heavy duty pot is never reached. That’s a good thing, because shards of hot metal exploding will really wreck your day, not to mention your wallpaper.
The problem is that they’re not ideal for precision cooking on the fly. You can’t see and observe the food as it’s being cooking, which means that you have to rely upon experience and memorization about the cooking times for various foodstuffs. That’s bad for Americans who like to know everything about their food and good for Indians who are really good at memorizing stuff without questioning it. Also, there are certain foods that normally require long boiling times: legumes, beans, pulses, tough cuts of meat, homemade stock from bones, whole potatoes, and the like. Americans typically don’t eat those foods much, and when they do, they’re usually packaged or prepared by somebody else. Think, when was the last time you cooked dry beans, homemade beef broth or lamb shank from scratch? Didn’t think so. On the other hand, these are the kinds of foods that Indians eat on a daily basis (minus the beef broth).
Besides that reason, pressure cookers are in every Himachal kitchen for two more reasons. First is that most of the state is elevated, and using a pressure cooker means that food takes the same time to cook no matter the elevation. The other very good reason is that it’s much, much quicker. Less cooking time means less fuel used. Less waste is a good thing.
I admit that before coming here, I was a little wary of pressure cookers, but I’ve gotten a bit more comfortable with them. In fact, yesterday I used it in a completely new way for people around here to create a confection common to South America called dulce de leche. It’s a fantastic concoction made from caramelized milk, and using a pressure cooker to make it is also a really really cool science lesson (if learning while cooking is your idea of fun). Caramel tastes really good, but that’s just caramelized sucrose. Milk contains lactose, not sucrose, which caramelizes differently and tastes even better. The traditional way to make dulce de leche is to combine a lot of milk and sugar and cook it over low heat for 4 hours stirring constantly until it has reduced by three-quarters. I don’t know about you, but stirring for 4 hours while keeping the gas on isn’t exactly my idea of a good time.
Worry not, there’s a shortcut. Take a normal metal can of sweetened condensed milk, put it in a pressure cooker, cover it by at least an inch of water, and cook it for 40 minutes after the valve starts whistling. No, I’m not an idiot (Shammi looked at me like I was one when I showed him what I was doing). Yes, boiling a sealed canister normally is a really bad idea. Not this time. If you just put an unopened metal can over heat, it’ll explode. But by using a pressure cooker, the increased pressure created inside the can of condensed milk while it heats, which would normally cause it to blow up, is counteracted by the pressure created by the cooker. That’s why you have to cover it completely by water, so the force is evenly distributed all the way around the can.
Yes, I’m a nerd, get over it!
After the cooker is completely cooled, you can open it and take out the can. Don’t try to speed up the process by pouring water over it, and don’t even think about opening the can until it has completely cooled, because if you rush it, then the can will explode and you’ll be sorry. It’d be best to cook it at night, turn off the heat, and wait until morning to even touch the pot. Your patience will be rewarded with a delectable treat that you can use to fill a cake, spread over toast, pour over ice cream, whip into frosting or (my favorite) just eat off a spoon. All because you used a little bit of science and technology and bothered to learn about why something cooks instead of just how to cook it. Just wait, soon you’ll be as much of a nerd as I am.
In the food business, it is often said that if you want something, you can have it fast, good and cheap, but you can only pick two of those. With a pressure cooker, you can have all three.
06 April 2010
Foodaholics Anonymous
The best cup of coffee I ever had was in Guatemala, where they grow coffee.
The best mango I ever had was also in Guatemala, where they grow mangos.
The best piece of cake I ever had was at a 300-year-old bakery in Budapest that once made pastries for the Hapsburg monarchy.
The three best seafood dishes I ever had were eaten in Zagreb, Croatia, overlooking the Adriatic, in which those aquatic creatures that I swallowed were probably residing that morning.
I have traveled an hour out of the way on the spur of the moment with a complete stranger just to seek out a local dessert that she told me about only one hour before.
I would rather work in an Italian pizza place for a day then visit the Coliseum.
And Alton Brown is my hero.
My name is Pat H, and I’m addicted to food. (Hi, Pat.)
It’s been really hard lately. The food here is so good and unique, and everybody is so willing to drop everything and feed me. It’s rare that I go a day without tasting something new and exotic that I’ve never had before. Plus I have so much opportunity to learn how to make the food myself. How can I resist my addiction when it’s just so easy to give in?
I fell off the wagon a little bit yesterday when Mr. Butail came to KLB to share some tea with Principal Ramdev and me. In case you aren’t familiar with the name, Mr. Butail and his family basically own Palampur. I have met him a few times before, but I had no idea that he and I shared the same affliction. This was made very clear to me when he pulled a small packet of fragrant leaves out of his pocket. Everybody’s eyes went wide. Kangra tea! The hard stuff! This is the tea that is for export only. It’s grown in the area, sure, but nobody ever manages to get their hands on the stuff. Mr. Butail obviously is well connected, but I had no idea that he was a fellow foodie.
Kangra tea is ranked as some of the best tea in the world. Literally. It competes on a world scale against teas from all over India and usually wins. Plus, there’s the price. It can be worth as much as 700-800 rupees (16 USD) per kilogram, if you manage to get your hands on some.
Anyway, Mr. Butail, Principal Ramdev, Akshay the architect, Mr. Rana the foreman and I sat down while somebody else prepared the goods. It really was like a bunch of junkies waiting for their smack. We were sitting around the table in the office, not talking much, and everybody kept looking at the door expecting it to come waltzing in at any moment. I’m pretty sure Akshay’s hands were shaking.
It was good. Really good. I’m not even a big tea drinker, but one sip of this converted me. So much complexity, so much flavor packed into a single cup. But really, it was the thought of the food that surpassed the taste. I was sitting there in a hill station in India, drinking one of the highest-rated teas in the world, only a few kilometers from where it was grown. Does it get any better than that? I think no. That’s how it always is with people like me. Guatemalan coffee and Hungarian cakes don’t necessarily taste better than their American counterparts, but the lore and legend of the food makes it truly delicious.
I think that Mr. Butail saw the affliction had a hold of me as much, if not more, than it had controlled him. That’s why the next day, he sent some Indian pancakes over to KLB, something that I had never before tried, for a extra breakfast. He even made two American-style pancakes, just for me. How awesome is that?
My friends, I’m here to tell you that these FA meetings need to stop. Don’t resist the urges anymore, it’s not an addiction. Give in to good food, and say no to McDonalds and packaged convenience food. After all, you only live once. Why waste it on bad food?
The best mango I ever had was also in Guatemala, where they grow mangos.
The best piece of cake I ever had was at a 300-year-old bakery in Budapest that once made pastries for the Hapsburg monarchy.
The three best seafood dishes I ever had were eaten in Zagreb, Croatia, overlooking the Adriatic, in which those aquatic creatures that I swallowed were probably residing that morning.
I have traveled an hour out of the way on the spur of the moment with a complete stranger just to seek out a local dessert that she told me about only one hour before.
I would rather work in an Italian pizza place for a day then visit the Coliseum.
And Alton Brown is my hero.
My name is Pat H, and I’m addicted to food. (Hi, Pat.)
It’s been really hard lately. The food here is so good and unique, and everybody is so willing to drop everything and feed me. It’s rare that I go a day without tasting something new and exotic that I’ve never had before. Plus I have so much opportunity to learn how to make the food myself. How can I resist my addiction when it’s just so easy to give in?
I fell off the wagon a little bit yesterday when Mr. Butail came to KLB to share some tea with Principal Ramdev and me. In case you aren’t familiar with the name, Mr. Butail and his family basically own Palampur. I have met him a few times before, but I had no idea that he and I shared the same affliction. This was made very clear to me when he pulled a small packet of fragrant leaves out of his pocket. Everybody’s eyes went wide. Kangra tea! The hard stuff! This is the tea that is for export only. It’s grown in the area, sure, but nobody ever manages to get their hands on the stuff. Mr. Butail obviously is well connected, but I had no idea that he was a fellow foodie.
Kangra tea is ranked as some of the best tea in the world. Literally. It competes on a world scale against teas from all over India and usually wins. Plus, there’s the price. It can be worth as much as 700-800 rupees (16 USD) per kilogram, if you manage to get your hands on some.
Anyway, Mr. Butail, Principal Ramdev, Akshay the architect, Mr. Rana the foreman and I sat down while somebody else prepared the goods. It really was like a bunch of junkies waiting for their smack. We were sitting around the table in the office, not talking much, and everybody kept looking at the door expecting it to come waltzing in at any moment. I’m pretty sure Akshay’s hands were shaking.
It was good. Really good. I’m not even a big tea drinker, but one sip of this converted me. So much complexity, so much flavor packed into a single cup. But really, it was the thought of the food that surpassed the taste. I was sitting there in a hill station in India, drinking one of the highest-rated teas in the world, only a few kilometers from where it was grown. Does it get any better than that? I think no. That’s how it always is with people like me. Guatemalan coffee and Hungarian cakes don’t necessarily taste better than their American counterparts, but the lore and legend of the food makes it truly delicious.
I think that Mr. Butail saw the affliction had a hold of me as much, if not more, than it had controlled him. That’s why the next day, he sent some Indian pancakes over to KLB, something that I had never before tried, for a extra breakfast. He even made two American-style pancakes, just for me. How awesome is that?
My friends, I’m here to tell you that these FA meetings need to stop. Don’t resist the urges anymore, it’s not an addiction. Give in to good food, and say no to McDonalds and packaged convenience food. After all, you only live once. Why waste it on bad food?
Affirmatively Active
Affirmative action is a hot topic in the states. Its effectiveness questionable, its motives controversial, its practice unstable… I fully admit to being completely detached from the political process even when I’m in the country, so I cannot speak intelligently about whether it’s a good idea or how it should be carried out. On the other hand, I can provide and Indian precedent that may shed some light on the subject.
Most people know that when India declared independence in 1947, the caste system that had dictated the inner workings of daily life was legally abolished. Legally, but certainly not in practice. A system of discrimination that has controlled the way a society has functioned for 5000 years doesn’t disappear overnight. Naturally, some prejudices and practices are left over from the caste system, affecting business, economics, politics, marriages, and virtually all other ways of life. One example of these leftovers is the people from disadvantaged castes that have a lot of catching up to do before they are on the same level as the average person. In India, these people are said to be from Scheduled Castes/Scheduled Tribes.
Examples of this in action is that spaces in government-funded schools are reserved for SCST students and are only filled by other students if no SCST students are available to take those places. In government jobs, a certain percentage of positions must be filled by SCST employees. A certain portion of representatives in parliament must be from SCST.
Here’s the kicker: this has been going on for over 50 years, since India’s independence. That’s at least a generation, two in some cases. Originally, it was only supposed to be in effect for 10 years following independence. The problem is that in order for it to stop being in effect, it must be voted out by the democratic government. And if representatives in parliament ever did something as stupid as denying concessions for the majority of their constituents, their political popularity would be on the same scale as a Nazi candidate in Poland. I see two more reasons for why it has needed to continue, despite all evidence that it should be finished by now and everybody should be on the same level. One is that caste differences and discriminations are so ingrained in the social network of India that they can’t be removed. The other is that SCST advantages are pissing off everybody else, creating new bases for discrimination. Who’s the say that the some won’t happen with American affirmative action packages? In my mind, and shown by the experiences of the Indian attempt, affirmative action fixes the symptoms, not the problem.
Most people know that when India declared independence in 1947, the caste system that had dictated the inner workings of daily life was legally abolished. Legally, but certainly not in practice. A system of discrimination that has controlled the way a society has functioned for 5000 years doesn’t disappear overnight. Naturally, some prejudices and practices are left over from the caste system, affecting business, economics, politics, marriages, and virtually all other ways of life. One example of these leftovers is the people from disadvantaged castes that have a lot of catching up to do before they are on the same level as the average person. In India, these people are said to be from Scheduled Castes/Scheduled Tribes.
Examples of this in action is that spaces in government-funded schools are reserved for SCST students and are only filled by other students if no SCST students are available to take those places. In government jobs, a certain percentage of positions must be filled by SCST employees. A certain portion of representatives in parliament must be from SCST.
Here’s the kicker: this has been going on for over 50 years, since India’s independence. That’s at least a generation, two in some cases. Originally, it was only supposed to be in effect for 10 years following independence. The problem is that in order for it to stop being in effect, it must be voted out by the democratic government. And if representatives in parliament ever did something as stupid as denying concessions for the majority of their constituents, their political popularity would be on the same scale as a Nazi candidate in Poland. I see two more reasons for why it has needed to continue, despite all evidence that it should be finished by now and everybody should be on the same level. One is that caste differences and discriminations are so ingrained in the social network of India that they can’t be removed. The other is that SCST advantages are pissing off everybody else, creating new bases for discrimination. Who’s the say that the some won’t happen with American affirmative action packages? In my mind, and shown by the experiences of the Indian attempt, affirmative action fixes the symptoms, not the problem.
05 April 2010
Working Inside the Box...
…but thinking outside of it. That’s the trick to being successful in my situation. Hell, any endeavor that anybody attempts must follow this kind of logic, but it especially holds sway when one tries to help people, and it is even more relevant when working in India.
It can be applied to trying to cook in India. I’ve had to use local ingredients and a limited amount of exotic additions, like cocoa and peanut butter. They’re available, sure, but nobody here really uses them. It doesn’t matter if they’re delicious or nutritious, because if it’s not something that you’re used to, then there’s no good in shoving it down their throats. I’ve tried to amend recipes to use as many of the ingredients common to Indian kitchens as I possibly can, even if a better alternative exists locally. I just want to make it easier on myself and on others here.
The same is true with any nutritional advice that I give. The girls in the hostel need more protein, good fats and iron, and almonds are a good source of all three, but they won’t eat them. I found that out when I suggested making them available at tea time for the hostel, but it was quickly nixed. Everybody around here avoids dried fruits and nuts (which are also called dried fruits, interestingly enough) like the plague, because they think they make you fat in any amount. Another case of lack of education, but I can’t really change their likes and dislikes. I have to make other suggestions that work with their current diets and lifestyles.
So when Shammi, my cook, asked me at dinner today if he could exercise with me because he wants to get skinny, I was prepared. I’ve been here long enough to know about Himachal lifestyle (specifically his lifestyle) to know what adjustments I can make to it for health reasons. I advised him that since he’s older than 35, he should avoid resistance or weight training and stick to cardio. The best cardio for people his age around here? Walking, of course. The hills are great, there are a lot of places to go, and it’s not too taxing on the body. It’s something everybody could to.
The other part of losing weight is diet, and I don’t want to tell him to start eating salads and fruits exclusively, but there are some ways that I’ve been thinking about to slightly tweak the average Indian diet to make it healthier. The staple food for every meal is some form of roti or rice, which are very high in carbs and low in vitamins. They’re complex carbs that are very good for you, sure, but for many people around here, they make up more than the 55-75% of their diet recommended by the WHO. It’s used to scoop up much smaller amounts of flavorful dals or vegetables. Therefore, a good way to adjust the diet is to recommend people to eat fewer rotis and more vegetables and dals. It’ll result in people eating less calories overall, and it shifts the percentage of their diet devoted to heavy, empty carbs over to richer, denser fats and proteins. It’s a start, and it’ll definitely be a slow change for Shammi, but I don’t think it’ll be one that’s very difficult to do. After all, he’s eating all of the same foods; he’s just eating them differently.
Of course, it’s important to cook the foods in a healthy way. I’ve got to start showing him, and others in India, that you don’t need a tablespoon of oil to cook two eggs. It’s a bit overkill. I don’t care if they come out of the pan all pretty because they don’t stick. They should just taste good and be healthy for you.
The good news is that overall, the Indian diet is so ridiculous healthy to begin with, that big changes are unnecessary. It’s the little things that count, like increasing iron and decreasing portion sizes. People just have to know about their food and make a conscious choice to eat healthier. I’m a firm believer in the saying, “There are no bad foods, only bad eating.”
But I also like this one: “Everything in moderation, including moderation.” Excuse me, but I have to go eat my third pancake.
It can be applied to trying to cook in India. I’ve had to use local ingredients and a limited amount of exotic additions, like cocoa and peanut butter. They’re available, sure, but nobody here really uses them. It doesn’t matter if they’re delicious or nutritious, because if it’s not something that you’re used to, then there’s no good in shoving it down their throats. I’ve tried to amend recipes to use as many of the ingredients common to Indian kitchens as I possibly can, even if a better alternative exists locally. I just want to make it easier on myself and on others here.
The same is true with any nutritional advice that I give. The girls in the hostel need more protein, good fats and iron, and almonds are a good source of all three, but they won’t eat them. I found that out when I suggested making them available at tea time for the hostel, but it was quickly nixed. Everybody around here avoids dried fruits and nuts (which are also called dried fruits, interestingly enough) like the plague, because they think they make you fat in any amount. Another case of lack of education, but I can’t really change their likes and dislikes. I have to make other suggestions that work with their current diets and lifestyles.
So when Shammi, my cook, asked me at dinner today if he could exercise with me because he wants to get skinny, I was prepared. I’ve been here long enough to know about Himachal lifestyle (specifically his lifestyle) to know what adjustments I can make to it for health reasons. I advised him that since he’s older than 35, he should avoid resistance or weight training and stick to cardio. The best cardio for people his age around here? Walking, of course. The hills are great, there are a lot of places to go, and it’s not too taxing on the body. It’s something everybody could to.
The other part of losing weight is diet, and I don’t want to tell him to start eating salads and fruits exclusively, but there are some ways that I’ve been thinking about to slightly tweak the average Indian diet to make it healthier. The staple food for every meal is some form of roti or rice, which are very high in carbs and low in vitamins. They’re complex carbs that are very good for you, sure, but for many people around here, they make up more than the 55-75% of their diet recommended by the WHO. It’s used to scoop up much smaller amounts of flavorful dals or vegetables. Therefore, a good way to adjust the diet is to recommend people to eat fewer rotis and more vegetables and dals. It’ll result in people eating less calories overall, and it shifts the percentage of their diet devoted to heavy, empty carbs over to richer, denser fats and proteins. It’s a start, and it’ll definitely be a slow change for Shammi, but I don’t think it’ll be one that’s very difficult to do. After all, he’s eating all of the same foods; he’s just eating them differently.
Of course, it’s important to cook the foods in a healthy way. I’ve got to start showing him, and others in India, that you don’t need a tablespoon of oil to cook two eggs. It’s a bit overkill. I don’t care if they come out of the pan all pretty because they don’t stick. They should just taste good and be healthy for you.
The good news is that overall, the Indian diet is so ridiculous healthy to begin with, that big changes are unnecessary. It’s the little things that count, like increasing iron and decreasing portion sizes. People just have to know about their food and make a conscious choice to eat healthier. I’m a firm believer in the saying, “There are no bad foods, only bad eating.”
But I also like this one: “Everything in moderation, including moderation.” Excuse me, but I have to go eat my third pancake.
02 April 2010
Writing Review
My time here is supposed to get me the equivalent of 12 credits back at MSU. In order to do that, I have to write some kind of paper or mini-thesis on a topic of my choice about what I’ve learned and experienced. It has to be academic in nature, so I can’t just spend 10 pages writing about the funny times that I’ve had. Rather, I have to take all of the stories about the funny times that I’ve had and apply them to something about culture that they’ve taught me. I’m a cultural student, anyway.
The plan is to take my nutritional work and studies about food and apply them to what they’ve taught me about food culture. Ideally, whatever I’ve learned from focusing on food in North India will tell me something about North Indian culture as a whole, or at least the culture of Himachal Pradesh. To do that, I will be spending the next couple of weeks going over all of the stuff that I’ve written for this blog and picking out several main cultural themes that stand out. These stories that I’ve written for almost 3 months now really do offer a special insight into culture and society, not necessarily pertaining to just food studies.
I’ve started today with a sort of outline, and began to go through all of my blog posts, when I realized something. I write a lot. Way more than I used to be comfortable with writing. This is the 69th post that I’ve written for this blog. If you want to talk about length, each one is at least half a page (single spaced), most are a page, and some go on for two or three pages. If you want to talk about time, I write at least every day. If you want to talk about ease, most of the time the words seem to just flow from my fingertips. If you want to talk about enjoyment, I love doing it. Why else would I be writing every day? I certainly don’t have to.
As recently as last semester, I dreaded writing. Couldn’t stand it. Every time I finished a paper, I did it with the thought that I was just scratching one more detestable chore off my list. So what’s the difference now? Well, it’s obvious. Writing comes much easier when you actually care about your subject matter. I write because there’s interesting things happening to me that I want to record as I experience them. Furthermore, I care about it now. It’s something to do that I enjoy, so I look forward to going home and spending some time with the paper clip guy from Microsoft Word.
It’s just difficult to have to go through 68 blog posts to find common cultural themes that I can write about. Yet I don’t foresee too much difficulty in that area. When it comes down to it, I can’t wait to start putting everything I experienced and learned onto one or two (or ten) pages, because when I do that, I know that I will have accomplished something. Even if I didn’t analyze the diet of everybody in Palampur, even if I didn’t open up an American bakery in the area, even if I didn’t get everybody to start eating right, I learned something. Actually, I learned a lot.
This paper is the first one of my academic career that I can’t wait to write, because it’s something real that I know and have experienced. Thesis: Analysis of nutrition for a particular area can help one learn more about the culture as a whole in that area. Do I believe that this is true? No question about it. If you want proof, just take a look at me. I learned a hell of a lot in such a short time just by focusing on food and nutrition, and it certainly taught about more than just culture.
But can I turn that into a good argument for an academic paper? Um… give me a couple of weeks.
The plan is to take my nutritional work and studies about food and apply them to what they’ve taught me about food culture. Ideally, whatever I’ve learned from focusing on food in North India will tell me something about North Indian culture as a whole, or at least the culture of Himachal Pradesh. To do that, I will be spending the next couple of weeks going over all of the stuff that I’ve written for this blog and picking out several main cultural themes that stand out. These stories that I’ve written for almost 3 months now really do offer a special insight into culture and society, not necessarily pertaining to just food studies.
I’ve started today with a sort of outline, and began to go through all of my blog posts, when I realized something. I write a lot. Way more than I used to be comfortable with writing. This is the 69th post that I’ve written for this blog. If you want to talk about length, each one is at least half a page (single spaced), most are a page, and some go on for two or three pages. If you want to talk about time, I write at least every day. If you want to talk about ease, most of the time the words seem to just flow from my fingertips. If you want to talk about enjoyment, I love doing it. Why else would I be writing every day? I certainly don’t have to.
As recently as last semester, I dreaded writing. Couldn’t stand it. Every time I finished a paper, I did it with the thought that I was just scratching one more detestable chore off my list. So what’s the difference now? Well, it’s obvious. Writing comes much easier when you actually care about your subject matter. I write because there’s interesting things happening to me that I want to record as I experience them. Furthermore, I care about it now. It’s something to do that I enjoy, so I look forward to going home and spending some time with the paper clip guy from Microsoft Word.
It’s just difficult to have to go through 68 blog posts to find common cultural themes that I can write about. Yet I don’t foresee too much difficulty in that area. When it comes down to it, I can’t wait to start putting everything I experienced and learned onto one or two (or ten) pages, because when I do that, I know that I will have accomplished something. Even if I didn’t analyze the diet of everybody in Palampur, even if I didn’t open up an American bakery in the area, even if I didn’t get everybody to start eating right, I learned something. Actually, I learned a lot.
This paper is the first one of my academic career that I can’t wait to write, because it’s something real that I know and have experienced. Thesis: Analysis of nutrition for a particular area can help one learn more about the culture as a whole in that area. Do I believe that this is true? No question about it. If you want proof, just take a look at me. I learned a hell of a lot in such a short time just by focusing on food and nutrition, and it certainly taught about more than just culture.
But can I turn that into a good argument for an academic paper? Um… give me a couple of weeks.
01 April 2010
Have Your Cake and Eat It with a Fork
To pass some time today, Principal Ramdev and I went across the street to D.A.V. school to say hello and share tea with the principal of the institution, Principal Yadev. D.A.V. is a school for first through tenth grades. The principal asked what I was doing for KLB, and Ramdev explained my cooking adventures and nutrition classes. He wondered if I could also do classes for the older students at his school. I agreed. Then he asked if I would be interested in also teaching table manners and etiquette. Completely different story.
In most of India, at least the traditional parts of it, you eat food with your hands. Everything. Utensils are a British invention that didn’t exist here up until a couple hundred years ago. So the average Indian meal of roti and vegetable, or rice and dal, is always eaten by hand. If you’re eating chapatti, one tears it into small pieces and uses that to soak up the dal or vegetable. You can also use your fingers to mix rice in whatever sauce or curry you are eating, and the same fingers are used to gather up chunks of flavorful rice and bring them to your mouth. Never bring food to your mouth with your left hand, because that’s the hand you use to wipe your ass. Gross. But basically, that’s the only table etiquette one must follow in India.
I had no problem adapting to all of that, and I guess it was so easy for me to re-culturalize, that when Principal Yadev asked me to teach table manners, I thought it was a dumb idea. What’s the point? Indian food is designed to be eaten with your hands, and putting a knife and fork into the equation just complicates things. Many people now use a spoon to eat rice, but aside from that, utensils sometimes don’t even make it into an Indian household. Even in the hostel at KLB, there are no knives or forks, just spoons. I just didn’t see any benefit to teaching kids how to use a knife and fork if most of them will never leave the country and therefore have no need to know Western eating habits.
Principal Ramdev explained that it all has to do with globalization (just like everything else, according to every social science class at the university level nowadays). Principal Yadev is trying to make his institution stand out from others. He is trying to give his students the tools and knowledge that they need to use in order to succeed in the future. Right now, that means Westernization. People around here are crazy about it. Anything that they can learn that is an example of American or European culture, they will jump all over it like a fat kid on cake. It doesn’t matter what it is; what matters is that they look more Westernized than the other guy at the job interviews. Employers here like that.
This trend can be seen at so many levels, it’s crazy. The most obvious is the Hinglish that is spoken by everybody that I mean. Token words like “actually, however” and “sir” are now key parts of Hindi. Throwing English phrases in your speech is practically expected. There’s a family with a lot of small kids who live in a house that’s on the way home from work. Every day that I walk by, the kids shout to me, “Happy Birthday!” Another example is Michael’s Café in Palampur. It’s a tribute to Michael Jackson, serving lousy pizza, brownies and veggie burgers. I wonder if the King of Pop would consider that to be a good tribute to his memory.
I agreed to do it. If Principal Yadev really wants me to teach students how to use a knife and fork, then what’s the harm? I just really disagree with the point and the purpose of the instruction. All of last semester in my cultural anthropology classes, we discussed the danger of globalization and how it may wipe out regional culture. Now I see it’s not a possibility; it’s a certainty. People around here gobble up anything Western or American without pausing to think about the affect it has on their local culture. It’s impossible to make a subjective judgment and say whether it’s right or wrong, good or bad. If they want it, if that’s all they know, then who am I to refuse it to them? It’s their choice, and trying to convince them that’s it’s wrong and that they should hold on to their own cultural identity would be just as bad as trying to make all the girls wear skirts and watch MTV.
As a result of my experience today, I have a new addition to the definition of globalization for all of my professors back at MSU. Globalization isn’t choosing Western culture over your own. Globalization is choosing Western culture because it’s the only one worth knowing. I just have one question: how can you eat chapatti with a knife and fork?
In most of India, at least the traditional parts of it, you eat food with your hands. Everything. Utensils are a British invention that didn’t exist here up until a couple hundred years ago. So the average Indian meal of roti and vegetable, or rice and dal, is always eaten by hand. If you’re eating chapatti, one tears it into small pieces and uses that to soak up the dal or vegetable. You can also use your fingers to mix rice in whatever sauce or curry you are eating, and the same fingers are used to gather up chunks of flavorful rice and bring them to your mouth. Never bring food to your mouth with your left hand, because that’s the hand you use to wipe your ass. Gross. But basically, that’s the only table etiquette one must follow in India.
I had no problem adapting to all of that, and I guess it was so easy for me to re-culturalize, that when Principal Yadev asked me to teach table manners, I thought it was a dumb idea. What’s the point? Indian food is designed to be eaten with your hands, and putting a knife and fork into the equation just complicates things. Many people now use a spoon to eat rice, but aside from that, utensils sometimes don’t even make it into an Indian household. Even in the hostel at KLB, there are no knives or forks, just spoons. I just didn’t see any benefit to teaching kids how to use a knife and fork if most of them will never leave the country and therefore have no need to know Western eating habits.
Principal Ramdev explained that it all has to do with globalization (just like everything else, according to every social science class at the university level nowadays). Principal Yadev is trying to make his institution stand out from others. He is trying to give his students the tools and knowledge that they need to use in order to succeed in the future. Right now, that means Westernization. People around here are crazy about it. Anything that they can learn that is an example of American or European culture, they will jump all over it like a fat kid on cake. It doesn’t matter what it is; what matters is that they look more Westernized than the other guy at the job interviews. Employers here like that.
This trend can be seen at so many levels, it’s crazy. The most obvious is the Hinglish that is spoken by everybody that I mean. Token words like “actually, however” and “sir” are now key parts of Hindi. Throwing English phrases in your speech is practically expected. There’s a family with a lot of small kids who live in a house that’s on the way home from work. Every day that I walk by, the kids shout to me, “Happy Birthday!” Another example is Michael’s Café in Palampur. It’s a tribute to Michael Jackson, serving lousy pizza, brownies and veggie burgers. I wonder if the King of Pop would consider that to be a good tribute to his memory.
I agreed to do it. If Principal Yadev really wants me to teach students how to use a knife and fork, then what’s the harm? I just really disagree with the point and the purpose of the instruction. All of last semester in my cultural anthropology classes, we discussed the danger of globalization and how it may wipe out regional culture. Now I see it’s not a possibility; it’s a certainty. People around here gobble up anything Western or American without pausing to think about the affect it has on their local culture. It’s impossible to make a subjective judgment and say whether it’s right or wrong, good or bad. If they want it, if that’s all they know, then who am I to refuse it to them? It’s their choice, and trying to convince them that’s it’s wrong and that they should hold on to their own cultural identity would be just as bad as trying to make all the girls wear skirts and watch MTV.
As a result of my experience today, I have a new addition to the definition of globalization for all of my professors back at MSU. Globalization isn’t choosing Western culture over your own. Globalization is choosing Western culture because it’s the only one worth knowing. I just have one question: how can you eat chapatti with a knife and fork?
Ticket to Ride
It’s official: I’m coming home. Today I finally bought the last of my plane tickets from India back to the good ol’ U.S. of A. It took me awhile because I’m not going straight back to Detroit from Delhi. I knew I wouldn’t be, and that’s why I bought a one-way ticket to Delhi in the first place. The way I figure it, as long as I’m already halfway around the world, I might as well take my time coming back. In fact, my official internship is over in two weeks, but I’m staying much longer anyway because I don’t have to go back and finish classes until September.
First stop is in Warsaw, Poland. Agata and I really clicked during the short time that she was here, and she invited me to come to Poland anytime to say hi. I’m taking advantage of that for sure. On 14 July, I will be flying from Delhi to Warsaw by way of Moscow. I even selected a flight that has a 9-hour layover in Moscow. Why would I want to inflict that kind of punishment on myself? Because if I can manage to get a short-term transit visa from the Russian consulate in Delhi, I would be able to leave the airport during that time and see a bit of the city, just like my layover in London. Any chance I can get to add another flag to my collection, I’ll take it.
Second stop is Budapest, and I’ll be flying there from Warsaw on 26 July. I lived there for about 4 months (one semester) in 2008 during a study abroad program. It was my first time in a different country for an extended period of time, and I absolutely fell in love with the city. I knew I would return, and now I will. Places to revisit, old friends to see, delicious food to eat… And the pastries! I can already taste the Dobos torte.
After Warsaw and Budapest, I should be pretty sick of traveling by then, so I figured I’ll call it quits and go home from there. Unfortunately, that’s an adventure in itself. I could only find one good trip from Budapest to Detroit during the dates that I wanted, and it’s not pretty. First, on 4 August, I have to fly from Budapest back to Warsaw, where I’ll have a 90-minute layover. From there I get to experience a wonderful 10-hour trip to Chicago O’Hare. In coach. Can’t wait! And it doesn’t end there, because after that I still need to fly from Chicago to Detroit. Plus that doesn’t count going through customs in Chicago. I wonder if there is a free waterboarding included in the trip, because that would round off the whole experience nicely.
In all seriousness, I love traveling like that. I love people watching, and navigating new airports, and finding things to keep myself busy. It’s all very exciting, and I can’t wait. Sure, I could just fly straight home to Detroit from Delhi. But where’s the fun in that?
First stop is in Warsaw, Poland. Agata and I really clicked during the short time that she was here, and she invited me to come to Poland anytime to say hi. I’m taking advantage of that for sure. On 14 July, I will be flying from Delhi to Warsaw by way of Moscow. I even selected a flight that has a 9-hour layover in Moscow. Why would I want to inflict that kind of punishment on myself? Because if I can manage to get a short-term transit visa from the Russian consulate in Delhi, I would be able to leave the airport during that time and see a bit of the city, just like my layover in London. Any chance I can get to add another flag to my collection, I’ll take it.
Second stop is Budapest, and I’ll be flying there from Warsaw on 26 July. I lived there for about 4 months (one semester) in 2008 during a study abroad program. It was my first time in a different country for an extended period of time, and I absolutely fell in love with the city. I knew I would return, and now I will. Places to revisit, old friends to see, delicious food to eat… And the pastries! I can already taste the Dobos torte.
After Warsaw and Budapest, I should be pretty sick of traveling by then, so I figured I’ll call it quits and go home from there. Unfortunately, that’s an adventure in itself. I could only find one good trip from Budapest to Detroit during the dates that I wanted, and it’s not pretty. First, on 4 August, I have to fly from Budapest back to Warsaw, where I’ll have a 90-minute layover. From there I get to experience a wonderful 10-hour trip to Chicago O’Hare. In coach. Can’t wait! And it doesn’t end there, because after that I still need to fly from Chicago to Detroit. Plus that doesn’t count going through customs in Chicago. I wonder if there is a free waterboarding included in the trip, because that would round off the whole experience nicely.
In all seriousness, I love traveling like that. I love people watching, and navigating new airports, and finding things to keep myself busy. It’s all very exciting, and I can’t wait. Sure, I could just fly straight home to Detroit from Delhi. But where’s the fun in that?
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