I love shopping for vegetables. Whenever I look at the colourful array of vegetables, my mind goes into overdrive, pulling out recipes from the database stored in my head! The moment I picked up a carrot, my thoughts went to Amma making carrot curry in a hurry.
Standing there in the crowded vegetable shop, I travelled back in time to the late seventies and early eighties.
Those were the days when guests could walk in at any time of the day, unannounced. It was perfectly normal for people to stay back for a meal without the slightest hesitation. The lady of the house, meanwhile, seemed to possess a magic wand with which she could conjure up a palatable three or four-course meal for her unexpected visitors.
Of course, it was also a golden period when domestic helpers stayed in ONE house all day and swept and mopped the entire house all over again in the evening. I shudder to imagine my current helper’s reaction if I asked her to do that today!
Carrots and beetroot rarely made their way to our dining table because Appa was diabetic. They appeared only on special occasions, such as these surprise visits from guest mainly because a poriyal using them can be made in a jiffy.
While we girls entertained the visitors with animated conversations about school, Amma would be in the midst of a whirlwind of activity in the kitchen. Somehow, meals prepared in a hurry always seemed to taste better! A payasam would be added to the usual lunch, or, if it happened to be dinner time, the entire family would pitch in for the great chapathi-making project.
Once, a van full of people arrived while we were busy clearing out the lofts. Every inch of the house was occupied by things we had taken out, leaving hardly any space to move around, let alone entertain guests. Yet Amma managed to make lime juice for everyone. What distressed her most was that she couldn’t even find a place for them to sit!
That was how it was in those days. Cousins, second cousins and distant relatives and friends from other towns…we knew them all by name, and there was always room for one more at the dining table, even if there wasn’t always room for a chair.
Carrying my loaded basket of vegetables to the car, I smiled at the thought of how a simple carrot had triggered this journey through time.
These days, there are fewer surprises. Guests rarely arrive without announcing themselves, and meals for more than 8 people conjured up at short notice have become a thing of the past.
But as I put the vegetables away, I wondered if it was really the magic of Amma’s cooking that made those hurried meals so special, or the magic of a time when a home was always ready to welcome someone in.
Perhaps it was a little of both.
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