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.
21 April 2010
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.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)