Sarasota Soundings

Modern Spice
Inspired Indian Flavors for the Contemporary Kitchen
Monica Bhide

Simon & Schuster (April 21, 2009)
288 pages; $25.00

Every culinary tradition that immigrated to the United States became something else once its practitioners settled themselves here.

In a sweeping generalization (for many households and communities are certainly exceptions), I’ll declare that some of these immigrant food cultures have lost much in translation: Japanese, Chinese, and Mexican are glaring examples. But other culinary cultures have gained: Eastern European, Greek, and Scandinavian cuisines are good examples on the plus side, if only because abundant ingredients and social stability in the U.S. allowed those immigrants to expand their traditions with ingredients they already knew but which were scarce in their homelands.

But regarding the multiple cuisines of the Asian Subcontinent, I have no single verdict. (I’ve lived and cooked in India, and I know Indian* cuisines from the diaspora—from market stalls, and home kitchens to grand restaurants in places I’ve resided or worked—London, Portugal, East Africa, the Arab Gulf, and the US.)

Everywhere, practical cooks will seek substitutions for hard-to-get ingredients. But one thing Indians, Pakistanis, and Bangladeshis in America cannot replace is the culture of domestic help that facilitated much of their cuisines’ complex refinement. Even families of modest means had servants, and until very recently many households were multi-generational and included grandparents, daughters-in-law, aunts, and cousins. Extra mouths, yes, but also extra hands—to roast and grind spices, grate coconuts, and keep fried treats and breads coming hot from the kitchen while the rest of family sat down to a meal.

Here, immigrants from the Subcontinent have assimilated while maintaining many of their traditions. But the B4 visa software bachelors of Silicon Valley and the first and second generation Indians who typify many of the South Asians in the US today are just like so many other Americans: too busy to cook or ignorant of the techniques needed to create a meal from scratch.

Enter Monica Bhide, corporate-consultant-turned stay-at-home-mom who loves to share food. She has practical considerations: two kids, a husband in a high-powered job, and the usual demands of a suburban American—and no visible servants. She’s a tireless and generous commentator, journalist, and talk-show guest who seems to have something of a financial cushion. And that’s particularly significant, for she is unabashed when she specifies jumbo shrimp, tiny lamb chops, lump crabmeat, basmati rice, jarred chutneys, spice mixes, and other prepared ingredients that are relatively expensive here in the US.

But if there’s a commodity on which many Americans put a higher value than food-totally-from-scratch, it’s time. Monica’s readers will buy boneless chicken breasts and squid rings to save themselves some prep work. Better they take Monica’s shopping list than many others out there in the popular media. Whether discussions of food are in print or on TV, radio, blogs, or Facebook, one has to ask how much of it is actually ever made, and more significantly, made to be shared.

This is not a coffee-table book; every publisher is on a diet these days, and so there are just a few color photos. Nonetheless, the recipes themselves and Monica’s essays on food are imaginative and inviting. Many who purchase Modern Spice will not follow the straightforward recipes; rather, they’ll use them for inspiration. This book won’t teach you how to cook—but if you can read and follow directions, you’ll be able to party.

Should we call her the Desi Devi? Monica writes for her confident and comfortably situated, if not affluent, crowd. If you are reading this blog, you know them: the med-students from Mumbai, geeks from Chennai, and public policy pundits from Poona. Whether they are hip urban professionals in Toronto and Boston or the IT babe in the next cubicle, chances are many of them did not learn to cook—let alone cook like Monica—back in India. But they may have learned here. South Asian or not, anyone who came of age when the Silver Palate cookbooks were on every shelf will understand where Monica’s coming from.

She writes for both the Tuesday-night shopper on her way home from the office as well as the weekend bon vivant pouring his neighbors tamarind margaritas while they grill kebabs. Giving her fans a range of brightly seasoned dishes with minimal fuss, Monica will save her readers time. And the subtle message in a not-so-subtle cookbook is that you should spend that time with people you care about. Pick up the book, then pick up the phone. Invite someone to dinner. Stay home to share food you’ve made yourself.

Tamarind Chicken
(From Modern Spice, Copyright © 2009, Monica Bhide)

This stir-fry is great on top of steamed basmati rice. I use a tablespoon of prepared tamarind chutney to add a quick tamarind flavor to this dish.

Ingredients:

2 Tbs. Vegetable oil
2 – 3 Medium or 6 – 8 small organic shallots, sliced
3 Small green serrano chiles, slit lengthwise
1 Garlic clove, sliced thin
1 Lb. Chicken strips, cut into 1-inch cubes
1/2 tsp. ground turmeric
1/2 tsp. red chile flakes
Table salt
1 Tbs. store-bought tamarind-date chutney

Preparation:

1. Heat the oil in a medium skillet over high heat. When the oil begins to shimmer, add the shallots and green chiles. Sauté for about 1 minute or until the shallots just begin to change color.

2. Add the garlic and sauté for another 30 seconds.

3. Add the chicken and cook 7 to 8 minutes, until the chicken is cooked through.

4. Add the turmeric, chile flakes, and salt to taste and cook for another minute. Add the tamarind chutney and mix until the spice mixture has coated the chicken well. Remove from the heat. Serve hot.

Hidrellez, the Turkish spring festival, is celebrated throughout the country.

Along with pagan customs of the Eastern Mediterranean, many pre-Islamic traditions of Central Asia and Mesopotamia live on in Turkey. One holiday in particular, Hidrellez, celebrates spring with colorful and ancient rituals that remain part of modern Turkish culture even if their original significance has been forgotten.

Photo courtesy of Phillip Salzman

Now observed throughout the country on May 6th, Hidrellez is whatever Turkey’s multicultural citizens make of it—a day of prayer, contemplation, mysticism, healing, wish-fulfillment, music and poetry, revelry— or a Turkish version of Earth Day.

A revered figure of Near Eastern folklore, the Muslim saint Hizir (from the Arabic Al-Khidr, meaning The Green One) is believed to appear as a mendicant dervish with a long white beard. Hizir has many attributions, but is generally regarded as someone with the power to grant wishes and intercede to save his supplicants from disasters.

Associated with spring planting and rebirth, Hizir has absorbed some of his character from the ancient water and fertility deities of the Middle East. He is also identified with the Old Testament figure of Elijah (Ilyas in Arabic), who was credited with bringing rain to the region’s arid croplands. This gave rise to the Turkish melding of the two names Khidr and Ilyas – as well as ruz. the Persian word for day, to yield the contemporary Hidrellez.

Hizir is also cloaked in the legends surrounding agrarian and fertility cults of the Balkans. Clad in green leaves, the Green Man of the pagans became Green George among Catholic and Orthodox Christians, who celebrated the feast day of St. George each April 23rd, in the old Julian calendar. Among many mixed communities of the Eastern Mediterranean, distinctions between Hizir and Green George were blurred long ago.

Of particular interest to us, is that Hizir is the patron saint of travelers, protecting them from the dangers and difficulties of the road. Thus, he holds a special place in Turkey, a country criss-crossed by ancient trade routes.

Hizir travels the River of Life upon a fish

Always associated with water, the turbanned Hizir is transported by a fish swimming along the River of Life. Once a year, Hizir may be approached for special favors, provided that one petitions him in an appropriate fashion.

Before daybreak on Hidrellez, (May 6th, according to the modern calendar), many Turks make or depict miniatures of things they most desire—a new house, an automobile, a business of one’s own… They place these images in their gardens or yards, or they may write their wishes on slips of paper and tie them to designated shrubs and trees. Walls bedecked with hundreds of brightly-colored rags and written wishes rise at sites of public celebrations, where gypsy bands and bonfires may also enliven the scene. During the ensuing year, Hizir may, at his sole discretion, grant a wish. If not, there’s always next year…

Here is a contemporary account from a friend of mine,* a Turkish woman in her 30’s living in southwestern Turkey. The notes in brackets are mine.

Thanks to Ceylan Zere for her personal account of Hidrillez.

At this time of year we never know what we’ll find at the Red Barn in Bradenton, but we know it will always be fresh and mostly local.

Best wishes for a glorious, happy Easter.

Copyright © 2009, Skip Lombardi

As I wrote in the last post, I don’t ordinarily write about technical issues, but they’ve been cropping up more often lately. Today’s scam comes to us from a malicious Web site in Barcelona, Spain called http://formulacoches dot com. The domain name is registered to Jose Luis de las Heras Flores, but he would have you believe you’ve logged into the Wal*Mart site to participate in a survey.

Of course, if you click the link above, the real Wal*Mart’s Web site will tell you it has no such page. But the actual link in the e-mail points to the following address (Which I’ve disabled… you really don’t want to see the Web site):
http://www.formulacoches.com/ WalMart/ Stores/ Inc/ online/ survey/ index.html

Anyway, if you do go there, you’ll get to a screen that looks just like the Wal*Mart Web site, and you’ll click a couple of yes-or-no questions and you’ll get a message that says, “Congratulations…etc.” Then you’ll be asked to tell those nice folks your Wal*Mart account info so they can “credit your account.” Don’t Do It!!!

This is the point at which those zany vandals at formulacoches dot com will record your Wal*Mart account number and password, and go off on a shopping spree with your good credit.

If you do get one of these messages, just delete it. If Wal*Mart really wanted your feedback, they’d give you a form to fill out at the store. And if they were going to reward you for your time, they’d do it at their customer service window.