Bangalore Food Festivals

Buttermilk served in the traditonal way

Popular Gujarati gramflour snacks

Pickles!

A delicious preparation with colacasia leaves

Jalebis

Every Friday, there are lots of restaurant advertisements in the newspapers.  Bangalore is hosting some interesting food festivals these days, many are too expensive for us but occasionally something worth while comes up.  I personally prefer cooking and eating at home but it's interesting to see a different place and to sit back and tuck into some food one would normally not make at home.

We generally prefer buffets because it's easy to try a range of food and we wait  each year for the St. Marks Hotel festivals.  They used to have two or three a year, but now it's reduced to the most popular one - a vegetarian Gujarati and Rajasthani food festival.  These are very different cuisines from distinct (though neighbouring) geographical regions.  Rajasthani food is geared towards a hot, harsh climate, with lots of ghee, chillies, local berries and herbs, solid breads and rich sweets.  Gujarati food is milder, with a hint of sweetness in many preparations, a large variety of pickles, curd based dishes, lots of peanuts, fenugreek leaves and sprouts and, in the summer, aam ras (a thick juice made of fresh mango pulp that is drunk on its own or eaten with poories).  I personally am not very fond of Rajasthani fare and quite like Gujarati food; my friends have different tastes.  So a mix of styles suited everyone.

It was a good spread, with tangy buttermilk to begin and lots of little fried snacks and pickles (in Gujarati style) - arbi (colacasia) leaves, stuffed, rolled up and fried in little spiral wheels, khandvi (steamed gram flour rolls), bowls of different kinds of sprouts.  There were khichris with ghee, spicy chaats and dals (from Rajasthan), Gujarati and Rajasthani kadis (curd thickened with gram flour), undhiya (one of my favourites - a mix of freshly harvested vegetables mixed in a clay pot which is buried in embers and cooked for a long time), all kinds of vegetable dishes with interesting flavours and the typical Rajasthani dal bati churma (very popular but not something I can eat much of!) - solid, unleavened wheat bread rolls served with lentils and a mix of crushed wheat that has been cooked with ghee and sugar and topped with more ghee!  There were also very nice little rotis (breads) made with different flours and the puffed, deep fried poories with aam ras, shreekhand (thick, sweet curd flavoured with cardamom) and plenty of sweets - the honeycomb like ghevar, thin, crisp jalebis, burfis, kheers of thickened milk and more.  A satisfying meal.  The only thing we could have done without was the Gujarat government's promotion tape playing constantly in the background, with Amitabh Bachchan (the Gujarat brand ambassador) humming and telling us of all the tourist destinations we could visit!  This was particularly irritating because both Gujarat and Rajasthan (and especially Rajasthan) have very nice folk music.

Beginning the meal

Sweet pickles, curd in clay bowls

Peanut and sprouted gram salads

Rajasthani Ghevar

Shreekhand (sweet, thickened curd) with saffron, nuts and cardamom

Last week, Citibank announced the second year of its annual 'Restaurant Week', an initiative to promote restaurants in Delhi, Mumbai and Bangalore.  One could sign up for a particular restaurant meal (at some popular and some fancy restaurants) and get a fixed price three-course meal, with a pre-decided menu.  I promptly signed up for it - everything was waitlisted and I thought this was yet another scam!  But, things worked out very smoothly- the waitlist cleared, the hotel called us and last Sunday we found ourselves at a frontier-food restaurant, Baluchi, at the Lalit Ashok hotel.

The menu was divided into three sections, and had sixteen dishes listed.  I assumed that we had to select from each section, but as it turned out, we were served everything!  It was a good menu, though, as generally happens, the vegetarian food was hotter and spicier than the non vegetarian.  This is an inexplicable phenomenon seen in most Indian restaurants.  We were served lots of delicious kebabs, leavened breads, some interesting curries, their special slow-simmered creamy black dal (lentils), a very nice salad and two strange looking but tasty desserts!

An unusual menu

A cold cheese starter

More starters!

Tender kebabs

The main course

Our dinner was made particularly enjoyable by a musical trio, who played and sang old Hindi film songs.  They did this with a certain dash and sense of complete enjoyment that soon spread to the audience.  The singer sang the peppy hits with gusto and the slow songs in a suitably sentimental fashion.  We were hearing these songs after a long time and the evening was not just about food, but one filled with applause, laughter and reminiscences.

Musicians singing our requested songs

Unexpected Rains

Unexpected rains for a few days have brought out all the birds and insects once more.  The trees are full of huge butterflies and tiny birds, flitting or hopping about.  They come in search of water, and probably, other juicy little insects or flowers.

Orchids have opened and the sweet lime is in flower.

The air is thick with flying ants which head to the nearest light source, falling easy prey to spiders, crows and frogs who patiently at at these spots.  It's a pity these ethereal looking insects are so tasty!

A couple of days ago, a huge rat snake frightened all our downstairs neighbours away.  Probably its home was filled with water and it had briefly stepped out.  I was just grateful and relieved that a few snakes have survived the tremendous concrete-ization of the campus and hope that it manages to survive.

Beautiful Odissi Pictures

A continuation of my previous blog on the Odissi performance I attended a few days ago.  I did not mention in the last blog that as I sat watching the dancers and wondering how best I could capture the experience, I realized quite soon that my tiny camera would not serve the purpose.  I had to preserve the events of this evening in my mind and try and put them onto paper in some way.

As it turned out, quite by chance, there was a man seated next to me, professionally clicking away, and from the angle and timing of the camera clicks, I knew he was getting some good pictures.  Blogging makes one meet and talk to people one might not otherwise.  So, after some thought, I requested him to send a few pictures, if he didn't mind.  He kindly agreed and has, indeed, done so.  These are some very striking pictures of some very talented dancers, taken by Saroj Kumar Mishra during the 'September 2012 Dance Discourse' programme.

I am attaching a link to the set of pictures taken by him.  (If you click twice on the first image, you can see a full screen version of the set).

http://www.flickr.com/photos/sarojmishra/sets/72157631666050813/

An Evening Of Odissi

Young Odissi dancers of Bangalore

Yesterday I braved the rain and the crowds to reach a small auditorium for an evening of Odissi dance. Odissi, a relatively newly acknowledged classical dance form (from the south-eastern state of Odisha), is one of my favourite Indian dances.  Though considered one of the oldest Indian dance forms, and initially a secular dance form, Odissi was confined to temples for many centuries and it only stepped out of this enclosure about seventy years ago.  This was largely due to the efforts of a handful of gurus, whose desire to dance to a general audience and to teach this in its pure, classical as well as folk-derived forms, overcame the restrictions that were imposed on who could dance Odissi and where.  Currently, Bangalore, despite its distance (geographically and culturally) from Odisha, has a high density of schools teaching Odissi.

In an attempt to battle the weekend traffic and ensure that I could locate the place, I found I had arrived an hour early and hovered around near the door for quite a while. As I was one of the first to enter, I managed to be seated right next to the stage, which I always enjoy, as one gets to see the musicians and the dancers (especially their feet movements) up close.  One also gets to see the deity (in this case, Lord Jagannath, a form of Vishnu, worshipped in Odisha).

Lord Jagannath, a form of Vishnu worshipped in eastern India

The evening's programme was an overview of some dance schools of Bangalore and began with the youngest - children who were six and older.  They were all good dancers and one got a glimpse of tremendous promise and talent especially from some of the smallest ones.  Odissi is a very exacting style (like most classical dances).  However, it is especially hard for young dancers, I think, because it is largely based on depicting ancient poems, mythology and scenes from the walls of wondrously carved Odisha temples.  To be able to narrate all this requires a certain depth, imagination and maturity apart from training and ability.  Certainly, the children are given simpler sequences, but I could discern a certain confusion in the older (perhaps teenage) dancers, which is not surprising.  I guess they are trying to discover their form and style.  My aim is not to dissect the dances closely and critically; I find it interesting to observe different movements of the dancers and think about how their styles emerge.

The end of a wonderful performance by students

I was able to take a few pictures, but I realized that flash photography was not allowed, so I have no more images of the subsequent programme.  However, pictures would probably not do justice to dance and so I attach older utube videos to illustrate what I felt during and after the programme.

Much of the dancing was done in the style of Guru Kelucharan Mohapatra, who had trained a lot of students from outside the state.  His is a slow, soft, sensual style with many stances where the dancer looks as though she might be frozen into or just emerging from the wall of a temple.  Interestingly, Guru Kelucharan's own style was different from that of all his students (whom I have seen).  His own emphasis was largely on narrating a story in as expressive a way as possible.  He sometimes added stories to existing old tales, to incorporate an extra layer of drama or movements, and he easily played more than one role at a time in an inimitable fashion.

Yesterday's programme began, as all dances do, with a Mangalacharan, a prayer to the gods (in Odissi, it would normally begin with mother earth and then proceed to Ganesha or Lord Jagannath (Vishnu), however modern dancers often leave out the earth element, as was done this evening - the cost of stylization and urbanization!).  But it was a nice beginning anyway.  I attach below a picture of the children doing Mangalacharan, followed by an old performance of Mangalacharan by Guru Kelucharan Mohapatra and a recent one by his daughter-in-law, Sujata Mohapatra.  Sujata's style is traditional too and it is the style which all his students have imbibed (this video is about eight minutes and you need not watch the entire dance if you are not inclined to; watching about half (unfortunately, it begins with an advertisement) will give you a general feel for the movements and how they differ from Guru Kelucharan's own movements).

Mangalacharan 

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=AQm9vkJawI4

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=1wX5yHh6DHc

The other guru whose presence was felt, in a tremendous solo performance (by one of the organisers, Madhulita Mohapatra) was Guru Deba Prasad Das.  I like his style for its earthiness and emphasis on strong expressions of moods.  In this case, Madhulita depicted a scene from the poem 'Geeta Govinda', an old erotic-mystical composition in the bhakti tradition (where Krishna (a form of Jagannath) is worshipped as a lover).  This will need a section (or a blog) in itself to describe, so I won't get into details here.  This dance was the highlight of the evening and had everyone on edge, watching Madhulita showing an abandoned lover's grief which ended with her sitting disconsolately on the stage, tears flowing down her face.

Just to depict Guru Deba Prasad's style, I add here a link to a dance sequence by another talented Bangalore-based dancer, Sarita Mishra.  In this snippet, she performs the beginning of Geeta Govinda, a description of different avataras of Jagannath as he appears on earth to vanquish arrogance or evil.  As you can probably make out from these performances, Odissi is a dance which has the potential to reach out and touch you - gently, enticingly or passionately, invoking happiness, sorrow, love or awe as the dance proceeds.

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=jG6bHnunDgk

Crafts And Craftsmen Of Kashmir

Kashmiri crafts are prized for their intricacy, complex designs and elegant styles. I am always attracted by their nature-inspired patterns and skillful use of colour.  Flowers, trees, birds and animals inspire their papier mache, carved walnut woodwork, metal work, crewelled curtains and their woven and embroidered pashmina shawls. 

Papier mache shikara on carved walnut wood table

Carved metal pot looks out onto a garden

Embroidered chinnar leaf-curtains in my house

So sought after are these products that fakes are now mass-produced and transported all over the country and, worse still, back into Kashmir!  Shawls from Ludhiana and Amritsar find their way into the hands of Kashmiri vendors and most exhibitions in Indian cities have at least one stall of "reasonable" (cheap!) semi-pashmina (containing not a thread of pashmina - the prized wool of the high altitude Himalayan mountain goats).  Apparently there is a large market for these pseudo-pashmina shawls and stoles for people no longer want to buy the 'once in a lifetime' shawls (which last considerably more than a lifetime), preferring to wear them for a short while and replace them

 with newer styles.

Trying to find authentic products even within Kashmir is quite a job.  We were fortunate to have met Renuka, a pleasant lady who works with local craftsmen in Srinagar and who gave us the address of the Beigh family of Kashmiri embroiderers.  I had only one afternoon free for shopping and had to decide between crafts, food (walnuts, apricots, saffron, honey, spices) and textiles.  Textiles won hands down and then it was a decision between woven shawls and embroidered ones - each is an art in itself - and I chose the latter.

The Beigh family 'karkhana' (a factory) was in a small lane flanked by large houses which had no names or signs anywhere!  Fortunately our driver knew exactly where it was and said it was a pink coloured building, the only one in that lane.  We climbed up a few flights of stairs to enter a large, many-windowed room with a threadbare carpet covering the entire floor.  At each window were placed two large cushions that served as seats for the embroiderers.  There was a basket of yarn in one corner and a large mass of old threads hanging on the opposite wall.  This was all the equipment in the karkhana!  Four elderly men sat, embroidering quietly and as we entered, two younger men came up and greeted us.

Skeins for embroidery

Old threads for darning

A shawl embroiderer

We sat down and over cups of kehwa (a Kashmiri spice-rich tea) and biscuits, spoke of this and that - of crafts, the difficult times faced by craftsmen, of the wonders of Kashmir and its treasures (which, according to them was the culture and hospitality that far outshone the natural resources), of their experiences in selling the products within and outside India and so on.  We met the oldest member of the family, a Master craftsman, who struggles with asthma as he continues to embroider.  All his sons are national award winners.  We were told that the youngest generation now goes to school and apprentices in the evenings but before that, none of the children had time for education.  Each shawl takes a minimum of three years to complete, many larger and more intricate ones take twice that time.  Several hundreds of workers are also employed by this family; each person is assigned a specific shawl.  The embroiderer decides the pattern and colours and works on one piece at a time.  The old threads hanging in one corner were fragments from ancient shawls that were saved and used to darn old shawls that their customers brought in.

Master craftsman and head of the Beigh family

 We were then led to the room that housed their current stock - not just shawls, but embroidered materials for salwar-kameez, embroidered sarees and more.  They brought out pieces of different kinds of materials and styles as we were not sure what we might want to buy.  The price depends on the material, the weave, whether it is factory made or hand woven and on the quality of embroidery.  It was interesting to see how the same fibres can be woven in various ways to give different textures; the open and soft textured pashmina (inevitably factory-made) is considerably less expensive than the closely woven pieces done by hand.  The shawls may be left in their natural colours (off whites, brownish greys) or dyed before the embroidery begins.

The shop in the karkhana

Surrounded by shawls of all kinds, it was very difficult to decide what to buy.  However, through a gradual process of elimination (and several visits to the mirror!), each of us identified one shawl which we felt we absolutely must have!  It was an interesting experience and very poetically described by the younger family member, who acted as salesman.  He said, "I believe that you have come all this way in search for something that belongs to you, which is being kept in my custody until you claim it."  Of course, we pay for it!  But the work is so fine and done with so much care that I am happy to support this tradition - and also to nurture the belief that I have come to collect "my piece" amongst the hundreds!

My shawl

Someone in my family bought an off white shawl with large, brightly coloured leaves and flowers, another person bought an elegant and intricately embroidered black shawl for evening wear.  I bought a grey shawl with a beautiful weave and a delicate, embroidered border.  A wondrous border in soft colours - peach (one of my favourites), sky blue, baby pink and tiny dots and stripes of red.  The family members who did not buy anything (i.e. the men!) were replete with tea, biscuits and conversation.  Finally, with many gracious invitations uttered by one and all, we bade farewell to this incredibly creative family.  We drove away with hearts so full of happiness that it dripped out, mingled with the sunshine and fell all over our precious shawls, making them look all the more beautiful.

Detail of embroidery

Valleys And Waterways Of Kashmir

I had very little time to explore this fascinating land of towering mountains, green, shaded vales and innumerable water forms (rivers, streams, lakes, glaciers).  I spent a couple of days in the Srinagar and Anantnag districts of Kashmir and my focus was largely on meeting people I knew.

After attending various functions and meeting family friends, we found ourselves on the road that connects Srinagar to Anantnag.  It is crowded and dusty in part but also passes through some very scenic stretches.  We crossed fields green with unharvested rice, the Lidder river (and its tributaries) lined by willow, poplar and chinar trees, fields where saffron grows, orchards of apple, pear and apricot.  The road weaved gently round the undulating terrain as we moved from mountain to mountain.  The skies were cloudy, threatening rain when we set out, but the clouds gradually lifted and reluctantly allowed the sun to shine through.  As soon as the sun broke through, we got a glimpse of layers and layers of towering, ancient mountains - some pine covered and some stark and bare, whose presence we were earlier unaware of.  We were suddenly surrounded by shades of green, brown and grey.  This is the magic of the mountains - they can disappear and appear at will (or when the weather permits it)!

Srinagar is crowded and dusty and one tends to forget that it is one of the most picturesque capital cities of the country.  Until one moves past the construction to see water and mountains stretching out endlessly.  The Jhelum river flows silently through the city and enters the gigantic Dal Lake.  Mountains rise in the distance.  In the background, hidden away in a corner, is the tiny, tranquil Nagin Lake. The lake is relatively quiet; shikaras (small local boats) glide along its surface, transporting flowers, vegetables or the occasional visitor!  A row of houseboats stand placidly in the distance, awaiting tourists.  We ventured on this lake one evening during sunset, when the colours were a rich orange-gold that turned to a pale peachy-pink.  Then night fell and the lights from the houseboats and the city came on like little glowing torches.

The next morning, I stood and stared at the lake for a long time - birds hopped from leaf to leaf, the lotus plants were fresh and turned towards the sun (the flowers had all fallen off during the heavy rains of the previous days), the water gleamed and mumbled to itself - secrets of all that it had witnessed perhaps.  I walked away, at peace with the world.

Attending A Kashmiri Wedding

I have just returned from a trip to Kashmir that began as I was invited for two weddings.  It was a hurried on-the spot decision to go; I threw in a few clothes, other essentials and flew to Srinagar.  There is now an almost direct flight from Bangalore (with a halt in Delhi) which has made Kashmir quite accessible to the southern region of the country.

The last two years have been relatively peaceful in the valley and tourism has surged.  Hotels have been packed and roads jammed with vehicles.  This was the off season yet I saw a fair number of visitors and hotel bookings were still hard to get.  I assumed this was because it was wedding season in Kashmir - just after the weeks of fasting and before the onset of the winter harvest, but in fact the visitors were largely tourists.  The weather is normally clear at this time but this year the rains have been late everywhere.  I reached to find cloudy skies that burst open to release torrents of rain that lasted right through the wedding ceremonies.

The wedding  was in a small town near Pahalgam (two siblings were getting married on consecutive days- this is quite common in Kashmir; it makes sense to arrange events when infrastructure can be shared and family can keep themselves free for two or three days at a stretch).

We arrived at the family house to find preparations in full swing.  An open area had been covered for the cooking.  An array of pots and pans stood by a long shallow trench that was being filled with firewood.  Huge pieces of mutton were carried in, spices were washed and cleaned.  The open kitchen was being prepared for cooking.  The stoves were lit, several men sat with wooden slabs and mallets, pounding the meat for hours before it was put into the clay and metal pots and simmered over the wood fire.  While this was in progress, another tent had been set up where folk dancers and musicians would perform while family and friends sat around.

On the first night we represented the groom's side and went to the bride's house for a late night-early morning feast (wazwan) that lasted several hours, in which we were served all possible kinds of mutton dishes along with lots of rice and tiny amounts of vegetables.

There was much singing and dancing at both houses.  We returned early morning with the newly wed bride who was welcomed her to her new home with more singing.

Meanwhile the mehndi raat for the next day's wedding (where we represented the girl's side) was in progress.  Henna was applied in intricate patterns on the girl's hand and subsequently on the hands of the other women who were present.  Folk  musicians and dancers sang and played till just before dawn broke and then everyone dispersed to get a few hours of sleep.

The following day we witnessed the nikah or actual wedding (which takes place in the girl's house).  The prospective bride and groom are not present on this occasion.  Instead they are represented by close family members who initially ask the bride and groom (in the presence of two witnesses from each side) whether they agree to this marriage.  After they have consented, the representatives, the witnesses and the qazi (religious head) meet in the girl's house.  The boy's family provides a sum of money and jewellery which is handed directly to the girl.  A contract is drawn up stating the amounts given, the names of the representatives and the witnesses who are present at the ceremony.  This is signed by the participants and the wedding is complete.  Dates and cups of milk are handed out followed by large plates of meat.  Some of the food is consumed, some carried back, then everyone disperses.  In the evening, the groom and some members of his family visit the bride's house where they are welcomed with songs and gifts.  There is much feasting and music after which they return home along with the bride.

Seven days later, the newly wed couple visit the bride's house where they spend a few days.  This marks the end of the wedding ceremonies.