A whole corn on the cob, carefully undressed from its lime green robe, one robe at time to reveal the glistening yellow kernels like little sapphires, gently grilled on a charcoal fire till it pops and then rubbed with lime juice and biit noon, served to you instantly to be consumed right there and then; that was all I could think of as I walked past the sweet corn station in the supermarket. The sight of the corn on the cob instantly brought back hauntingly delicious memories of gastronomic delights of years past. That familiar but distant smell of corn being grilled and then to hear it pop, and instantly infused with the charcoal smell filled my head and it was enough for me to reactively grab a few into my trolley.
The eager anticipation of the change of seasons, for example, from summer to autumn. Waiting to sample your first bhutta (sweet corn) when you went out with your parents on a Sunday evening to Victoria Memorial and after you had a turn on riding the colts for a few rounds on the vast expanse of the gardens, a treat of sorts. Growing up, the transition to autumn was signalled by the sudden influx of numerous road side vendors all vying for the same custom with a product they all thought was singularly theirs. More tangibly, it was when coming back from school in the late evening after extra academic credit classes, you would see a few corn cobs in the kitchen pantry that papa would have got from the markets on his way back from work. You knew, you just knew, all you wanted then was a grilled corn on the cob.
The change of seasons while traditionally marked with changes in weather and customs, to me, surprisingly enough - not, was all about what I was going to eat then. Some how without realising it, you knew the seasons had transitioned by what papa bought from the markets at that time. You were eating lichees, the obiquitous tormuj, jamun, peyaras, kathals, taal (the young palm fruit) in plenty and then all of sudden their quantities in the daily shopping bag reduced drastically (thanks to golden prices) and replaced by the early oranges, apples, plums and pears. While initially, it was disheartening as it meant, it was a whole year until they re-appeared, but it was tinged with a slight sense of anticipation with what the new season brought in tow.
So, fast forward to the present with the perennial availability of fruits, veggies, meat, fish etc, you no wonder tend to muddle everything up into one. With no clear distinction in availability or seasonality, you tend to forget the tastes and smells that you would have normally associated when you were a kid. Not surprising is it then that most adults when asked what they miss the most, tend to recollect food related moments from the years past as being the most distinct or impressed memories from the yesteryears and the ones they would recreate most. Is, dare I say, convenience to blame or is it just a general apathy that has taken over us when it comes to matters related to food. I do not intend to focus this post towards the currently hip, and misunderstood, seasonal bashing, but it is about trying to make sense as to when, even I, a person who for the first 18 years was tuned to the seasonal fluctuations of food as if it was not just second nature but, just what you did, to someone who gets irritated, first when in the middle of winters why there aren't any tomatoes available and then secondly, complain why they taste like cardboard. not to mention, the ensuing complaints of the increasing prices of food.
Have we become so bereft of being patient to drive us to a point where it always has to be a case of sunshine and lilies and everything silly? Has it always got to be a land of milk and honey? I wonder...
So, fast forward to the present with the perennial availability of fruits, veggies, meat, fish etc, you no wonder tend to muddle everything up into one. With no clear distinction in availability or seasonality, you tend to forget the tastes and smells that you would have normally associated when you were a kid. Not surprising is it then that most adults when asked what they miss the most, tend to recollect food related moments from the years past as being the most distinct or impressed memories from the yesteryears and the ones they would recreate most. Is, dare I say, convenience to blame or is it just a general apathy that has taken over us when it comes to matters related to food. I do not intend to focus this post towards the currently hip, and misunderstood, seasonal bashing, but it is about trying to make sense as to when, even I, a person who for the first 18 years was tuned to the seasonal fluctuations of food as if it was not just second nature but, just what you did, to someone who gets irritated, first when in the middle of winters why there aren't any tomatoes available and then secondly, complain why they taste like cardboard. not to mention, the ensuing complaints of the increasing prices of food.
Have we become so bereft of being patient to drive us to a point where it always has to be a case of sunshine and lilies and everything silly? Has it always got to be a land of milk and honey? I wonder...
