Traditional Kitchen

I hardly realized the charm of my kitchen until I stumbled upon an article describing the ancient Sri Lankan kitchen. Browsing through the various photographs depicted in the article made me realize the utensils described although ancient and going out of use in a modern kitchen was still  around me and very much a part of my life, although hardly appreciated (until now) and given its due respect. What follows is a look around my kitchen with renewed love for it and a recipe for the best kind of rice puller, roasted coconut and gamboge (goraka) sambol, excellent for a weak stomach, eaten with warm rice. 

Ingredients: A few pieces of Coconut, Pepper pods, salt, one dried red Chillie, Goraka (Gamboge), Karapincha and Garlic. (The garlic was forgotten in the excitement of the photo shoot and added in later.)  Garlic being an essential ingredient adds flavor, softness and much medicinal value. 

The forgotten garlic J

 Ramani ( love of my life and treasure beyond compare) breaking off pieces of coconut using the Coconut Scraper.

The pieces of Coconut and Gamboge are buried under hot ash of the wood stove or Dara Lipa. 

My stove… a dingy converted windowless room, black as hell and full of smoke…my pride and joy!

Check out the pot of salt in the corner if you can see through the smoky haze 

……and the fire wood collection (mostly picked by trespassing on neighboring property, dried and stored before the rains)

Once the Coconut and Gamboge has been roasted for 5 to 10 minutes under hot embers it is taken out and washed well. (I’ve also heard it is better to wipe the ash off rather than washing)

 

Roasted coconut

The beauty of the grinding stone…. All ingredients are ground to a pulp by adding a few drops of water….

Ramani at work ….

…and her beautiful daughter.

 The final product… A labour of love, looks as good as it tastes. 

Burned Coconut and Gamboge Sambol is a delicacy of medicinal value when eaten with hot rice.  Said to be a soothing meal for new mums during the first few days after delivery….

A glance around the kitchen…..

Wang Gediya and Kurahan Gala… more grinding and pounding stones… 

Coconut Scraper

Indiappan Watti (for making string hoppers) 

A collection of Chatty Pots and Koraha

Coconut Spoons

Roti Thatiya, Malu Laalla and Broom…

Manna or Knife used for cracking coconuts

Kulla and Watti ( woven trays for sorting and drying and of beauty beyond compare) 

Billing fruit, ready to be salted and dried… another rice puller...

Preparing Bandakka (Ladies Fingers ) curry

Kos Etta (Jak fruit seeds) preserved to be used when Jak fruit is out of season… J

None of these are a rarity or exotic to a Sri Lankan eye. This is what we grew up with but discarded for the newest electric blender, grinder and gas stove. Notwithstanding the ease and practicality of modern equipment and the comparatively sheer waste of time spent over a wood stove and cleaning soot laden chatty pots…. who could resist the charm of a traditional kitchen…

I heard a violin cry, yes I did last evening....listening to Mozart's Sonata for Piano and Violin in E minor, a beautiful heart wrenching rendition by Shani Diluka on Piano and Gabriel Le Magadure on Violin...  I learned this composition was written by Mozart after his mother's death...in August 1777, Mozart and his mother set off on a quest to find a job to Mozart's liking, during which time he commenced his work on this Sonata, soon after which his mother fell ill and died... and last evening Gabriel brought back the dark moods and the shadows that would have plagued Mozart during this composition and the Violin cried, bled  and sighed his anguish leaving the audience in the grip of this haunting sadness...

I was lucky to be the audience of a show presented by the Mano Chanmugam Music Foundation featuring Shani, Gabriel and Valentin Erben the Cellist. I looked on when Valentin played on his Cello, the famous Matteo Gofriller Cello 1722, ( a two hundred and ninety one year old venerable piece of instrument people !!!)

Together these three made their instruments cry, laugh, thunder and rain on the lucky audience and took us all through the Sonata for Piano and Cello No.3 in A major Op. 69... and the agony of Ludwig Van Beethoven having lost his hearing and an unsuccessful attempt at suicide. I felt his pain of loss and also his mustering of strength and joy in the notes of the finale....

Music came alive last evening when these three super musicians gave us a rendition of Franz Schubert  a man who knew he was dying and gave his all to this composition and actually died once it was completed... I relived his pathos in No.2 in E flat major D. 929 ...Shani, Gabriel and Valantin played Schubert's own words 'Imagine someone whose health will never be right again, and whose sheer despair makes things ever worse rather than trying to improve matter; imagine someone whose highest hopes have been dashed and to whom happiness of love and friendship brings only pain; whose enthusiasm for all things beautiful threatens to forsake him'

I hardly knew the history or background of these great musicians,   the great classics remained great classics, to be enjoyed by those 'others'.... however last evening Mozart, Bethovan, Schubert, Greig and Dedussy became human, they cried for lost mothers, loves and in fear of their mortality, they hated the cold, loved the East, longed to Travel and being unable to do so created imaginary music about the east.... the 'Greats' became one of us and those 'Others' that imbibe in the classics simply became 'me'

Thank you Mr. Chanmugam for a treat to the senses....

Masked

'Drop your mask, be true to your self', 'know your self' .... these are lines I read and hear and makes me wonder. 'Know thy self ' is a killer topic I've pondered for ages and drifted constantly from  hence shall leave it for later discussion...

I was chatting with a friend this morning, trying to dissect the line 'drop your mask, be true to your self '.... I for one cannot fathom where the mask drops and where I begin, try as I may it is a fine line if such a line exists at all and I've not yet figured the boundaries.

My friend argued that for example if I do not like someone but is nice to such person that being nice is my mask which would eventually drop However, for me being nice to that person and not showing my dislike though on the face of it seems like two layers is but just one nature that's me. The nature of not wanting to show any dislike, a nature of avoiding the embarrassment of a face off, a nature of wanting to be liked and may be thought of and spoken off as amiable and nice... Therefore the 'mask' of being nice to that person I do not really like in fact is no mask at all to my comprehension. That essentially is what I am, possibly hypocritical, possibly weak, but a MASK? not really, its what I am, A me that wants to be liked... So at which point does my 'real self' cease and I don a mask? its not really clear ... Its all me... with a mask?

Old age

Old age

Dry, flaking, wrinkled skin

feeble limbs and slow gait

visiting my aging parents,

a stark snapshot of mortality

I'm scared

Rodeo memories

I love food and I love atmosphere, I also love being with people I'm comfortable with. It all came together last afternoon at the Rodeo Pub in Negombo. Mixed fried rice and a Pork Stew of course spiced up to suit a Sri Lankan palate. Flavorful of ginger garlic and lemon grass washed down with a cool beer and in the best of company. Somehow Rodeo with its huge cactus and high tables not to mention the brilliant waiters touched my heart...

A new day and a new possibility, blogging my vagrant thoughts... wonder what it will unfold.