Wrenching is this

Ok I admit it. I cried. At the end of this $&^$%@ book, which I read in one day, I let it rip–albiet quietly and with great dignity. (Ahem, ahem ~adjusts her tie and brushes her bangs aside~) A book like Room is not my usual style, but I wanted to read Donoghue, considered to be a stylish  writer of prose.

What I got was a gut wrenching, psychologically astute portrayal of Jack and his ‘Ma’, a mother-son pair caged in a 12 X 12 ft room by a psychopath. Captured at 19, and having borne a son (as a result of multiple rapes), the mother uses every device as well as her considerable imagination to nurture and entertain her son, who turns five-years-old as the story begins. Narrated in Jack’s voice, the story is poignant. For those who want happy endings, yes, they do escape, but escape brings with it its own set of complications.

At times, it got very hard for me to continue reading the book, but just when I thought of putting it down, I came upon a beautiful uplifting moment–a literary treat–that lead me to go on, and I am glad I did. I thought Donoghue did a job of sophisticated storytelling, organizing the book in beautiful chapters: Presents, Unlying, Dying, After, Living. (You’ll see how perfect these headings are, when you read the book!) Her understanding of vocabulary and language,  child psychology, family units and inside jokes is key to this book, and I’m glad it was she who wrote it. You may have guessed that the book does take its inspiration from life, namely from the true stories of Josef Fritzl, Natascha Kampusch and Sabine Dardenne.

Read its (more succinct and red blooded) review here: http://www.guardian.co.uk/books/2010/aug/01/room-emma-donoghue-review-fritzl.

’tis Graphic!

I’m sure you’re all tired of hearing about how we should all read Graphic Novels, why I like ‘em, why I think they’re misunderstood by the mainstream readers, why we should read one in our Book Club, etcetera etcetera, here’s a new one that I can safely recommend! Kabul Disco is another in a series of graphic novels that follow the tradition of reportage, comparable I suppose to Marjane Satrapi’s Persepolis and Joe Sacco’s Palestine. (Thank you Mads for introducing me to them!) BUT, but it also deserves to be looked at from its own standpoint. Like Persepolis and Palestine, Kabul Disco does give us a lens with which to view (because you dont just read graphic novels) places that are different from our own and carry considerable political and media baggage. Unlike Persepolis and Palestine, Kabul Disco provides us with a truly personal, unique lens of an expat.

The book (the first in a series) doesn’t tell us that much about Kabul, but let’s not blame Wild for that. What it offers is an interesting, enlightening narrative of a French graphic artist/writer who lands up with a job in Kabul without preconceived notions, and how he finds something other than ennui and dollar signs to hold him back. I thought the narrative was honest, piquant amd challenging. It addressed stereotypes with great elan and builds the story with beautifully rendered sketches. Do pay attention to background–they not only lay out the terrain of Kabul, but also contain plot devices!

To read more about Graphic novels read this article, which I thought was nicely done: http://www.livemint.com/2010/03/12215219/When-the-truth-is-graphic.html

Happy readin’ folks! Do tell me what you think of these books.

Therefore, I do not begrudge the fact that movies like Dabanng exist. Knowing that this filmi fiasco is the second highest grossing Bollywood film of all time only makes me mildly ill.

What makes my warts really pop, however, is the way Indian movie critics have aggrandized this movie.

“Salman’s corrupt cop act as Chulbul Pandey, playing Robin Hood in a semi-rustic environment is so engaging, you are willing to forgive and forget everything else,” writes Nikhat Kazmi in TOI, giving the movie an enviable 4 out of 5 stars.

(To read her review in its entirety, click here: http://timesofindia.indiatimes.com/entertainment/movie-reviews/hindi/Dabangg/moviereview/6524257.cms)

Why are our critics willing to “forgive and forget everything” ? I certainly wont. I do not forgive the lack of plot, I do not forgive the Zandu balm (I cringe when I picture that bum-hand action) song and I certainly wont call it all a Bollywood spoof or a kitsch just to smooth over the complete idiocy of the movie.

I don’t have to like Dimple tritely gasping for her last breath and then shuddering melodramatically to death, I don’t have to appreciate the crass comedy (or lack thereof) of Sonakshi Sinha’s drunk father, I don’t have to applaud when Salman’s shirt rips at the biceps (no doubt, reacting to his supremo machismo), but I do take offense at the movie getting a rating of 4.

What hope do good movies really have when our critics, supposedly the gatekeepers of intellectual prowess, stupidly sing praises of a movie that banks on the fact that its loudness, crassness and star power will justify productions costs?

When we have movies like The Pink Mirror, The Last Lear, The Blue Umberella, Das Vidaniya, and Hazaaron Khwaishein Aisi that add value to Indian cinema, critical acclaim being awarded to a movie like Dabanng is an insult.

Does it deserve a rating of 4?

In fact, I was so perturbed by this movie and its reviews in good newspapers, that it was this that lead me to restart my blog! I waved my fists at the heavens and decided that I wasn’t going to let them get away with it.

I feel passionately about movies, and find myself defending Hindi movies to those who consider watching them an affront to their intelligence. My intelligence however, is affronted not when I watch Salman’s hips twitch, but when movie reviewers accede to the demand that such movies have merit simply because they are or can become popular.

Although hordes of people will (and do) disagree with me, I do not consider Dabanng entertaining. Those who don’t, here’s what I think: Dabanng is a crude production. It lacks in all aspects, be it cinematographic value, dialogue, story, mis-en-scene or music. If it is to be rated, it deserves but 1 star, and that too in deference to the poor soul who sat through it and watched the film for the review.

Now that I have gotten that off my soap box, my fervent prayer is this: Let us not judge movies by comparing them to their peers. Let our critics not review relatively. Let us give some credence to the merit of a movie based on factors other than mass popularity.

I shall endeavor to do so. Will you?

Yes, that threw me off kilter too. I found out that the eggplant (also known as the aubergine, brinjal or guinea squash) is actually classified as a berry, no doubt by inept botanists who thought purple equals sweet. Alright, alright theyre classified as berries because they are a fleshy fruit made from a single ovary, but who cares about boring botanical explanations?

I found that just because the eggplant is rotund, squishy and squat, doesn’t mean it tastes bad. So shame on all of you who discriminate against it based on its looks.

A Peek at History

The eggplant is native to India (hoorah?) and has been used as a staple in Asian cooking. The Thai, for example, have been using small eggplant in their green curries for ages.

After being ignored by the West, eggplant was introduced to the Mediterranean peoples via Arabs, who embraced this fruit-veggie with open arms (and open kitchens).

Later, the eggplant made its presence known to Africa and North America, where its status is that akin to a Gujju in NY.

Like the common Gujju, the eggplant too comes in many shapes and sizes: there are rotund ones, oval ones, elongated ones and bulbous ones. They can be purple, green, white or even orange! So the next time you’re at the neighborhood sabzi mandi (or a gourmet grocery store), look carefully ’cause there may be more than one kind of aubergine on display!

For the sake of skin

Before I give you my recipe (which will make you a eggplant lavah!), here are healthy reasons why you should eat ‘em:

Eggplants are a good source of folic acid and pottassium.

Rare (and controversial) studies have proved that they are effective in treating cholesterol.

And the skin of the eggplant contains scientific-sounding stuff (anthocyanins to the food geek) that helps protect against heart disease and cancer.

And now for the…

Grilled Eggplant Recipe

I used the elongated variety, since that doesn’t pack much water and therefore needs no draining. (I also prefer them to the round eggplant, which reminds of a particularly vile witch’s nose. )

Ingredients

2 long eggplants sliced vertically into 3-4 thin slices

For the marinade:

Olive oil as base

Red chilli flakes

Oregano

Minced Coriander

Fresh Basil

Salt and pepper to taste

Grated ginger

Diced garlic

(You can also add lemon juice for zest)

Slightly char the eggplant and make sure that you brown it on both sides so that the skin is puckered.

Method:

Stir in the marinade in a flat bowl and drop in the eggplant slices. Once they are coated on both sides, put them in a tray (lined with olive oil) and grill them on 150 degrees C  for 15 minutes, turning twice.

Ta da!

Yes, this is laughably simple, but if you are implying rude and impolite things about my cooking ability, you are most possibly correct. Yet, this dish tastes sooo good, you’ll forget all about me and want to enjoy it by turning off both your laptop and your cell phone!

You can either eat grilled eggplant as a side dish with stir fried veggies or pasta or as a filled for a multigrain sandwich.

Enjoy.

I held the camera over kajal-ed eyes, pierced noses, suspicious eyes and lascivious grins.

As I walked the slums and villages of Sultanpuri, Jaffarabad, Kutti, Duburi and Mohali, I refrained from smiles and introductions before pointing and shooting. I wanted to catch them off guard; capture their instincts towards a stranger, the “other,” who even with a Fab India kurta and old jeans, didn’t belong.

I got what I wanted.

I snapped up the condescending curiosity in their eyes, expressions of disquiet inquiry, scared-lamb stares, anger, glares. But it was the children who hurt me most. They stared at me, some stopped in their tracks—the camera holding their gaze like a headlight.

Some ran around me; skipping, giggling. Joined hands and trapped me in a circle of soft arms and soft smiles. “Photo, humara bhi lo”

Some were shy. They peeked from behind peeling walls. Hid under hemp-ed cots. Looked on from behind older siblings. “Upar dekho, mujhe dekho, wahin ruko” and I clicked.

Their happy abandon hurt me more than their fear did. I bent down. I went on my knees. I was voyeaur, creator, documenter; my camera, a plagiarist.

This entry is based on a photography assignment for an NGO which took me to Delhi, Jharkhand and Orissa.

I went to the Grill Room expecting the new Tapas menu to delight me, and was rudely reminded of rule number one in restaurant critiquing and (as they say) in life: Have No Expectations.

When the ceramic blue boat plates of tapas finally arrived, I knew something was wrong. I judge a dish by its cover (so bite me), and what I saw didn’t bode well.  

There were miniature bullets masquerading as Fish Croquettes, slimy green roundels supposedly imitating Hariyali Kababs and misshapen red bones served as Santa Fe Chicken.

“Let’s duck out while the waiter’s off getting the beer,” my taste buds screamed, while I tried my best to drown them saliva—which was hard to summon, considering the way the food just sat there and stared right back at me.

I told myself that running off at this point would just be cowardice (since I know and enjoy Fusion 9 cuisine: the first Maya and Shankar restaurant before they opened the Grill Room) if not mildly displeasing to my current dinner companions—who went on chatting and laughing as if nothing was wrong! The cheek.

The last straw: Tepid Beer!

As I resigned myself to a dolorous evening, I started to day-dream. In the spirit of the true fusion of The Geek and The Foodie, I had researched tapas and talked to a few people before going to try this Spanish contrivance.

Apparently tapas first came into being after Spanish King Alfonso X fell sick after drinking on an empty stomach. Too bad he didn’t have access to Vogue’s and Cosmo’s regular “how to” articles, which advise our shockingly addicted race to chomp down on fiber and starch before, while, and after drinks. Alfonso quickly decreed that all taverns needed to serve snacks with drinks, thereby earning the title of “Alfonso the Wise.” 

When the long-awaited bottle of Fosters finally arrived, it was tepid. Excuse moi, but when the very basis of serving tapas is to have an accompaniment to one’s drinks, I didn’t think that asking for chilled beer was asking for too much!

According to the vast and all-encompassing experience of my dear brother (who traipses all over Spain and Italy, and whom I passionately hate because of this fact), tapas is served on small slices of bread or crackers in most Spanish pubs. Having a bread base for these spicy snacks makes it easier to soak all the lovely Olive Oil that is drizzled on them by the chefs!

Though olives and cheese feature most prominently in authentic tapas tradition, tapas may take almost any form, and needn’t be Spanish in flavor. In fact, in the Philippines, UK and North America, some of the local favorites like cured beef flavored in soy sauce, fried baby squid, or even pork kababs have been adopted into tapas and are served in easy-to-eat size.

 So although I appreciated the addition of typical Indian hors d’oeuvres to the tapas menu, the Hariyali Kababs that I tried just didn’t do the trick.  The southwestern marinade that gives Santa Fe chicken its name and fame was simply not at its flavorful best, and the Fish Croquettes came striped with something akin to mustard sauce.

The problem: Good menu, no-so-good execution.

As always, the net came to my rescue in the form of a cool Spanish website, which not only has interesting historical tidbits about tapas, but also some exotic recipes. Check them out at: http://www.arrakis.es/~jols/tapas/index2.html

Well, at least there’s one good news: Before I flounce off to Spain in search of true tapas, there’s another Hyderabadi restaurant (Zara) waiting for me. I better have better luck this time!

 To see your tapas experiences on this blog, email me at nirati.agarwal@gmail.com

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Commentary:

I’ve noticed, in photography and in life, a skewed perspective may sometimes offer a revealing glimpse into something too beautiful, too big to grasp.

In a first-ever community service sentence in India, Kumar, a technician working for Dell, has been asked to sweep the grounds of a government hospital in Hyderabad (Gandhi Hospital) for one hour every day for one month for plucking and pulling at the dupattas of two women walking in Gautamnagar in Hyderabad.

To read more, click here: http://www.deccanchronicle.com/hyderabad/techie-gets-‘sweeping’-order-962

A unique sentence against Eve Teasing

When the Judge refused to grant bail the first time, Kumar’s side righteously pleaded that he would loose his job if he were arrested. The kindly judge then granted bail (after two sureties of Rs.10, 000 each) and this, rather inimitable, punishment.

Apart from the novelty of the sentence, lets all marvel at the fact that these women actually went to the police station, complained, filed an FIR, and got results. Ostensibly, the Indian Penal Code contains two sections (Section 298, A and B, and Section 292) that outline legal reprisals for harassment of women. Most women, however, believe they will be laughed out the station by the ever-helpful, ever-so-sensitive police. Guidelines for filing and following through with an FIR when you are a victim of what is lovingly referred to “eve teasing” can be found on The Blank Noise Project website: http://blog.blanknoise.org/2005/04/i-was-eve-teased-taking-legal-action.html

If you are still unsatisfied with the Penal code, and want to take matters into your own hands (and fists), you have two options. A traditional nani ke zamane ki tarqeeb would be to carry tiny vials that contain red pepper or cayenne pepper powder in your hip Louis Vuitton or that latest yellow clutch and fling the sting on the unsuspecting roadside romeo. 

And if you want to go hi-tech, use mace.

‘Spike,’ ‘Venom,’ ‘Cobra,’ ‘Chilliguard,’ and, rather predictably, ‘UR Safe,’ are the catchy-yet-dangerous brands of pepper spray now available at your neighborhood kirana ki dukaan in India.

After the Sri Ram Sena and Bajrang Dal samaritans rightly threw those flighty females on their bottoms for inappropriate dressing and drinking, pepper sprays have been given a new lease in the recession-rocked subcontinent.

Since those call-centre girls aren’t going to stop drinking vodka-sprite and those apers of the West aren’t going to stop their aping, the Sena and Dal people are going to have to deal with Oleoresin Capsicum sprays as well as moral decrepitude. 

To read and view a video on the Mangalore attack that has prompted rise in sales for pepper sprays, click here:

http://www.ndtv.com/convergence/ndtv/story.aspx?id=NEWEN20090081494

The Economic Times reported a 300% rise in sales for sprays as of March, 2009 as a direct result of the Mangalore attack. Although a recent entrant in India’s self-defense market, sprays are legal under sections 96, 97, 102, 105 and 106 of the Indian Penal Code. 

Internet research reveals that pepper sprays have had a long and illustrious history. Pepper powder was first used in China to blind enemies, then throughout the world to repel animals including bears, tigers, and apparently, Neanderthals. Fitting.

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My first encounter with delicious Japanese food began with Teriyaki Bowl—an Americanized Japanese joint right in BYU’s cafeteria (my undergrad university in Utah). As I experimented with J-food in Provo, Salt Lake City and New York, I moved away from westernized spicy-chicken rice bowls to fall deeply and irreparably in love with delicately fried tempura, lettuce with Japanese mayonnaise, and of course, Japanese sushi.

Although Japan has its singular and unique food, its cuisine has been influenced by Korea, China and Portugal through trade and religion. Buddhism turned the Japanese into a predominantly sea-food eating nation barring meat like monkey and cattle from daily meals.

After the influence of the Tang and Heian dynasties, Japanese food in its modern avatar contains spices like miso (fermented soy, rice or barley), vinegar, soy sauce, dried seaweed (aonori), shredded ginger (beni shoga) and fish flakes( katsubushi); and is served grilled, simmered or steamed.

Ebisu’s fare is less complicated—it has Okonomiyaki (Japanese pancake) and Yakisoba (noodles) in vegetarian, seafood and chicken varieties. The most impressive thing about my Yakisoba preparation was the flavorful and aromatic sauce. Curiosity got the better of me and I researched to find out just what makes the sauce so hot and so caramel-ly.

Ebisu’s Vegetarian Yakisoba beckons... To make your own, try this link: http://www.otafukufoods.com/recipes/yakisoba/howtocook.htm

Turns out the Otafuku Yakisoba sauce is the eastern version of the Worchester sauce where fruit and vegetable purées (tomato, onion, orange, apple, dates, garlic and celery) as well as sugar, salt, vinegar and loads of other mysterious spices commingle to make this noodle sauce a sheer delight. By the end of the meal, I blew my nose twice, cried exactly two tears, and patted my satisfying-convex tummy.

 Ok, I admit it: I asked for the dish to be made extra spicy—it was an option on the menu card, al right? I have yet to try the Okonomiyaki, and maybe this time I’ll live on the edge and give the non-vegetarian a try! 

One of the two Japanese restaurants in Hyderabad, Ebisu disappoints in that it isn’t a dine-in. It occupies a permanent stall in the Cinemax food court and instead of sitting on hard-backed steel in the cafeteria, I recommend carting the food away to be enjoyed on the comfort of your own hard-backed chair.

EbisuVerdict: I say, try it.

MoneyMatters: The cheapest dish is Rs. 150 and the most expensive is Rs. 350.

Write in with comments on Ebisu and your own experiences with Japanese cuisine.

To read other blog entries and posts, click on Archives or Recent Posts. 

Commentary:

With her clunky gold anklet, her large red bhuttu, her hiked up saree, her glass bangles, and her stiff fingers, she came in to thresh rice and I couldn’t resist. 

I saw her and was immediately reminded of Thota Vaikuntam’s portraits of Telangana women.

When I stepped off the boat onto American soil, apart from other epiphanies that made themselves known unto me, the most alarming was that a salad could be a full meal. Once the light bulb near the space above my head dimmed, I quickly began ordering Caesar salads, Chicken Taco salads, and Jamaican Jerk salads. Chicken or Fish was the common factor in these salads, making them full meals but rendering them un-vegetarian. So in order to make a protein-enhanced vegetarian salad, here’s my cold summer salad with red kidney beans.

 Enjoy, oye!

The Bean n’ Green Summer Special is served cold on fresh cabbage leaves

 Recipe:

             Soak about half a cup of red kidney beans in water for 15 minutes and then cook them in a pressure cooker or a boiler until they are semi-soft. While they’re cooking, peel the onion, separating its layers and dice into large square pieces.

            In a pan, add a little olive oil and sauté the onions. While the onions are cooking, dice the green bell pepper, carrot and baby corn into cap-sized pieces. Feel free to add other veggies like broccoli, yellow and red peppers, tomatoes and courgettes to the mix as well.

            When the onion has softened and achieved the transparent look, add the bell pepper first, and then the carrots followed by the baby corn to the pan. After one minute, add half a cup of water, cover the pan with a lid, and cook on low to medium flame to soften and steam the veggies.

            In another bowl, add 2 tablespoons of honey, 2 tablespoons of vinegar, 3 teaspoons of ground mustard seeds (you can also use 2 tablespoons of Dijon mustard paste) and salt and pepper to taste. Add these ingredients to 1/2 a cup of coriander (or parsley) and grind it into a paste.

            Add the dressing to the sautéed veggies in the pan. Cook for about a minutes and add the kidney beans. This mixture then needs to sit in the fridge for 2–3 hours or in the freezer for ½ an hour.

            About fifteen minutes before serving, gently remove fresh cabbage leaves and wash them in salt water. This will kill the germs and make the leaves crunchier. You can line a salad bowl with cabbage leaves and spoon the cold veggie-bean mixture in or you can divide the mixture, spoon it onto each leaf, fold and serve in the PF Chang’s istyle.

            If you are serving it in a salad bowl, you can add more coriander as a garnish. The salad looks lovely either way and what’s more, it tastes better!

HealthWise

Red Kidney Beans are a fibre-rich food providing virtually fat-free protein. They are especially beneficial for people battling diabetes or those who want to achieve weight loss since the high fibre content in these beans reduces the urge to snack or feel hungry right after a meal. They also reduce cholesterol, high blood pressure and risk for heart attacks because of their folate and magnesium content. They are also a good source of minerals like iron, phosphorous and molybdenum.

 Mustard seeds are not only supposed to be cooling for the body, but also a good source of omega three fatty acids, magnesium, fibre, typtophan and selenium. Translation: mustard seeds alleviate asthma, arthritis and skin allergies and are believed to prevent cancer. These seeds are also useful during menopause and help lowering blood pressure and preventing heart attacks.

For recipe queries, please write in!

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