Pickles for a cause

Wild Fiddlehead Fern pickle by Mahilaa Shweta 

I love supporting women-led initiaitves and businesses. Be it podcasts or pickles, blogs or breads, content or cakes - I love buying from women business owners, connecting with them, befriending them, helping them connect with each other and powering an ecosystem of feminine energy where women celebrate one another, and celebrate the magic that is womanhood. Being a woman is a celebration in itself.

A few years back, after giving birth to my daughter, I started my own venture singlehandedly and ran it as a one person company. However, the adventure didn't last long enough. No regrets either. We had a good run, that is what matters. 

'Mahilaa' (meaning woman in Hindi) is a woman-led initiative promoting women's Self Help Groups (SHGs) in the serene and idyllic state of Himachal Pradesh in Northern India. Women harvest the local seabuckthorn berries and make value-added products from it such as jams, pulp and herbal tea, others source the finest barley coffee, make pickles with wild fruits and plants, among other creations.

After connecting with them on Instagram and browsing through their catalogue of beautiful products and endearing quotes by Mahilaa's women, I knew I had to show my support. A few days back, I was happy to receive two cute jute bags with packets of blood red and rust orange seabuckthorn berries, that promise to keep you looking and feeling young, and a bottle of wild fiddlehead fern pickle. The cherry on the cake were the complimentary and thoughtfully gifted juniper leaves with medicinal properties. Gauri, the founder of Mahilaa advised me to burn the leaves in a bowl to ward off negativity and I did. 

Their pungent aroma was perfect for the wintry chill of Ahmedabad's evenings. I was even tempted to add some bay leaves to create the perfect blend for a warm and aromatic smoky cleanse. But that is for next time. The juniper cleanse was truly therapeutic, and the pickle for a cause, simply delicious!

Check them out on Instagram! @Mahilaa

The East Indian Bazaar: Experiencing Mumbai’s East Indian Food Heritage

East Indian exhibit owners engaged in conversation

While scrolling through my social media feed, hoping to find something interesting to do during my rare visit to Mumbai, an Instagram post by the Mobai Gaothan Panchayat caught my eye. The vividly coloured graphic screamed EAST INDIAN BAZAAR and voila! I knew I had to make a trip. 

Pickles made from meat and seafood are a staple in the East Indian diet

The East Indians are the original inhabitants of the island of ‘Bombay’ who were converted to Christianity by missionaries during colonial times. Over the centuries, their community has evolved, changed, adapted to the changing times and yet maintained their authenticity and distinct identity by conserving their culture and heritage - a blend of native, Hindu and Christian traditions. Their food exudes the textures, colours and aromas of this diverse blend that I was particularly excited to explore at the bazaar.

 

On a pleasant November evening, in the buzzing bylanes of Bandra West,  a steady stream of people looking their Sunday best made their way to the campus of the popular ‘Andrews’ college. In a humble enclosure, a dozen odd tables were lined up and vibrantly coloured with crochet handicrafts, shiny trinkets, colourful toys, books East Indian cooking and Christmas recipes, and pickles; others served hot food takeaway favourites like beef curry, tongue roast, pork vindaloo, mutton ‘paya’, potato chops, chicken hot dog rolls, fish balls; a counter or two was stacked with fugiyas (lightly sweetened flour balls fried and served warm), mawa cupcakes, and chocolate donuts, to coax parents and grandparents to take home for the kids. 

From Regina’s beef curry, pork sorpotel, and tongue roast, Susan auntie’s chicken and potato chops and pickles, to auntie Maria’s sweetmeats, visitors were spoilt for choice. As I browsed the setup, I was greeted by gregarious East Indian home cooks, entrepreneurs, uncles and aunties, mummies and grannies who beamed proudly at their displays, inviting the visitors to take a look. I made a dive for Susan’s potato chops generously filled with lightly - spiced and juicy minced chicken and mashed potato, and a few packets of fresh fugiyas. 

Potato chops: A favourite East Indian starter filled with minced chicken & potato

Regina aunty persuaded us to try her sun-dried fish and shrimp, a staple in coastal communities. My friend obliged and grabbed a packet of sun dried ‘bombil’ fish (Bombay duck) sticks, a box of mutton curry, and soft white sannas (dumplings made from rice - a common feature of coastal food that accompany savoury curries). The wide range of pickles was a sweet surprise displaying an eclectic mix of fruits, vegetables, meat and seafood. I could only imagine the number of delicious flavours that resulted from these well-balanced permutations and combinations. We were also introduced to the ‘letri’ - a sweet and colourful concoction of rice, coconut, and vermicelli which is made for special occasions. 

Books on East Indian cooking and delicacies by Abigail Rebello

The 'letri' - a traditional sweet dish

As we made it to our final table selling traditional and brightly-coloured East Indian 'lugda’ or saree, I concluded that East Indian food mainly consists of decadent dishes, and comfort food, rich in meat, grease, and fat, making it flavourful and wholesome. But, above all, it is the East Indian people themselves that made this whole experience wonderful thanks to their endearing personalities, cheerful vibes, and a great love for food!

 

 

 

Intimate Rituals

Getting "me-time" or time for self love and care is a rarity. On the very rare occasion, when I do get the time to indulge myself in just "being", I often sit at my modestly decorated and cozy desk in my home office. Fragrant candles accompanied by a dim lamp cast a warm glow around the room illuminating spiritual objects, works of art, handmade baskets and, of course, my books. All these characters on the stage, that is my desk, lend a beautiful and wholesome aura to my space.

Today being a Sunday, I started preparing for my weekly intimate ritual around 4 PM. This is the time when I'm all by myself stirring tea or coffee not because I crave it, but because it completes my ritual. The very sight of a piping hot cup of tea or a mug of coffee resting on my desk, while the sounds of thunder and rain play in my ASMR playlist, create an atmosphere that inspires me as an author, writer and thinker. The whole setup almost feels like a writer's retreat in an old cottage nestled away in the dark mountains while the monsoon rages away, and all one can do is simply write in the warmth and the chaos.

Today's intimate ritual also included the burning of juniper leaves sent to me, all the way from North India, by a kind woman who runs a collective promoting women small business owners. They make pickles and marmalades, source the best seabuckthorn fruits and barley coffee. The eco-friendly packaging read, "You are making an impact"and the juniper leaves were sent to me as a gift for being kind and honest. Indeed, karma pays forward. I was asked to burn the juniper leaves to usher out negativity. As I lit the juniper leaves with the flame of my candle, they crackled and burst emanating a fragrant and calming smoke much like the 'dhoop' or incense we utilise for our daily worship. 

I walked around my house barefoot carrying a bowl with the smoky juniper leaves, while the candles burned in my imaginary cottage, and the rain and thunder reached a crescendo signalling the success of my intimate ritual.

The Wise Queen

The Wise Queen

Once upon a time, there lived a wise and virtuous queen named Manekadevi. She was kind to her subjects and ensured there was law and order in her queendom. She never let anyone go hungry and made sure that children went to school.

One day, when Queen Manekadevi was busy discussing important matters with her Ministers in her magnificent palace, three men arrived requesting to meet her. They were poor and seemed desperate; one of them cried out, "We must see her Majesty or an entire village will die of hunger!", said one of the men. 

On hearing the commotion, the Queen immediately asked her guards to let the men inside the palace. "What is the matter?" she asked the men in a gentle voice. The second man said, "your Majesty, we live in the village behind the hills and there is no food to eat, please help us!". The three men fell to the Queen's feet and begged her to help.

Seeing their pitiful situation, the Queen immediately ordered her guards to give the men 20 bags of food containing lentils, vegetables, wheat, rice, and sweets for children. Indeed, Queen Maneka was very kind and generous. The men thanked her endlessly and were on their way soon after the guards loaded the bags onto five horse-carts and bid the men farewell. 

Three days later, the three men came to the palace again and said that some thieves had stolen the 20 bags of food. The Queen and the Ministers were surprised and angered on knowing this. They had ensured the food would last for three weeks at least. How could someone steal somebody's food and force them to go hungry, they wondered. But, the Queen didn't question the men any further. She asked her guards to load 30 bags of food onto the carts and bade the villagers farewell. 

Exactly three days later, the three men appeared at the palace once more with the same complaint. "Your Majesty, it is indeed embarrassing for us to come to you like beggars asking for food. Our food was stolen again!" The three men broke down and began crying.

The Queen asked them to steady themselves and assured them that she would help. This time the Queen gave the men 40 bags of food and asked them to keep a night vigil to catch the thieves. The men promised her they would be watchful.

On reaching the hillside, the men stopped the horse-carts and found a place to light a bonfire as the sky had turned very dark and it was cold. Sitting around the bonfire, the men began chatting and eating some food they retrieved from the carts. One said," Ha! We fooled the Queen again!" The other said, "Yes! yes! She did not suspect a thing! Now we can have all this food for ourselves!" "Yes! And make money selling some". The third man said sarcastically, "Oh we mustn't, or the imaginary villagers will go to bed hungry!" "Ha! Ha! Ha!", they all laughed in unison.

Just then, something moved amongst the horse-carts and startled the three men. They stood up and went to the carts to check what was wrong. As soon as they approached, out popped the Queen's guards from the bags and arrested the three lying men who were the real thieves. 

The three men took the Queen for granted, thinking she was foolish and naive, but they were wrong. Queen Manekadevi had suspected something was amiss and ordered her guards to hide in some of the bags and follow the men that evening. The guards put the thieves in prison, and Queen Maneka distributed the stolen food amongst the poor and needy in her queendom.

Dinner time

The Great Mansion's parlour was resplendent in its time. Its original owner loved to entertain his guests over lavish dinners and conversations that went into midnight and beyond. 

The parlour always fascinated me; it's beautifully carved furniture, the alfresco on the wall, the almirah now filled with modern books. I was admiring the scene when I heard my mobile ring by the poolside. I got back quickly to continue my admiration. To my surprise, the lights were switched on, the dinner table was set, candlesticks were lit in the centre and two chairs were pulled out...Seemed as if someone wanted to thank me for appreciating their home.

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Photo Stories: Frangipani Blossoms

You have to see it to believe it. The frangipani tree in the courtyard which lies in the heart of @siolimhouse is a sight for sore eyes. I loved watching its lightly fragrant blossoms sway in the summer breeze while sipping afternoon tea. The beautifully restored glass window is like a book that opens up to a story waiting to be read and told.

At the Crack of Glass

I called out to Mr. Benny from the window of the large reading room- it had become my favorite place in the Mansion. He was the handyman everybody relied on for odd jobs. Water had been dripping from my ceiling making the nights rather unpleasant, and I was excited to see a glimmer of hope in Mr. Benny. "Mr Benny Sir! Here, here!" He looked up at me, and said, "Coming right away Mam!" and while he uttered these words, he began moving in the opposite direction vanishing in seconds. 

I lost all hope of getting the roof fixed when Mr. Benny entered the Great Mansion's kitchen. He wouldn't leave until Debu had made him a cup of tea and informed him of the day's travails which explored the lives of practically every resident of Babolim village. Letting out a sigh of great disappointment, I turned around to leave the reading room when I heard the shattering of glass. Strange things had happened in the reading room ever since I first came to Babolim Mansion. I turned around and fixed my gaze on the glass shards on the wooden floor, some gleaming in the sunlight. 

I squatted to examine the damage and wondered what may have caused it. There were no troublemakers in the quiet yet busy mansion, Mr. Albert saw to that. I went downstairs to report the incident to him but noticed he wasn't at his desk. Some new guests must've kept him busy I thought. I decided to approach his second in command, Serafim Lobo. 

Serafim had served the former owner of the mansion and could be found lurking around in its corners, checking on Debu and ensuring he didn't pocket the food meant for the guests. I called out to him while walking from the reception area into the courtyard. "Mr Serafim! Mr Serafim! Some glass pieces are on the floor in the reading room!". He popped out of a room he had been cleaning and closed the wooden door behind him. Wiping the sweat from his brow, he asked, "Glass broke? How?" he asked me cringing his nose and eyeing me suspiciously. 

"No clue! Now could you please go and get it cleaned up? It just...broke." Mumbling under his breath, Serafim went up the stairs and I followed. As we entered the reading room, I pointed to the window. Serafim, broom in hand, went up to the spot and looked back at me angrily. "Where is the glass? Fooling me are you, Madam, today?" 

Irritable, I hurried to him and found that not a single glass piece was on the floor and the window was intact. "The ghost is real Madam, leave while you can", said Serafim with a pallid look on his face. With that, he walked to the door, turned around, and beckoned to me to exit with him. As I took a final step to leave the room, the glass cracked once more.