Winter flavour

It is winter somewhere in a small town in northern Punjab! Ah.. what would I not give, to enjoy the foggy mornings, the warm sun, the sharp bite of cold wind, an unlimited supply of ginger tea and a walk in the golden mustard fields! Thanks to Yashraj films and Bollywood romance, I think many of us can visualise the passionate? meeting of the hero and heroine amidst the gently swaying mustard plants with golden flowers 

( Kajol and Sharukh, may be!). 

I keep imagining the bite in the air, the cold wind on the face and the typical winter colours, vegetables and fruits. Sometimes, the present merges with the past and one smoothly flows into the other.   I can experience the cold seeping through every pore of my being, and inhale the aroma of hot, spicy and colourful mixed vegetables - carrots, peas, potato and cauliflower. 

Winter in Punjab is incomplete without 'Sarsoon da saag and Makki di Roti'! Associations of smells and images stay etched deep in our memory. I think of that foggy winter evening more than 35 years ago; our one year old daughter all bundled up, when we travelled all the way from Chennai to meet, and stay the night with a close friend of my husband in Delhi Cantonment. I got to experience the Jat hospitality that evening, with Makki di roti and sarsoon da saag. Whenever I think of winter and sarsoon ka saag, it brings to mind the excitement of a new beginning and the love and attention I enjoyed then. 

So here I am, some forty years later, feeling the same excitement and enthusiasm for meeting and connecting with all things around me! Thanks to my ecosystem (our domestic help with the fond memory of the farming during her younger days,  is a major player) which nurtures me with greens, flowers, butterflies, bees and birds, the little patch of soil I have in my city apartment, has yielded mustard leaves and a kind of local palak. 

  

The growing bond:

From the day, I recognised the mustard plant, every morning, she would draw my attention to herself and at some deeper emotional level a silent conversation(?!!) started. Like a chant, I would hear 'sarsoon da saag'. 

a conversation would then begin:

Me: Saag? I don't know how to cook that. Do I need to pluck your leaves and make that?

Sarsoon: What else? My golden flowers bloom in anticipation of your cooking, and that is my ultimate purpose.

Me: Please don't mind my saying this, but A has a sensitive palate and that strong bitter taste of your leaves may not be to her liking. 

S ( stretching tall): Don't you remember that winter night at Capt. Ravi Mohan's place? Aren't you raring to go at it, breathe in the unique flavour, feel the texture of the leaves and experience the sensation of bringing together the diverse greens and spices and let them tell their story?

Me (with a grin): You all have one uncanny intuition! I will do that and thank you for nurturing me and my family.

So with love and care, our help, Saraswathi plucked mustard leaves and the other green similar to palak and stored the bunches. 

Now, I looked up the recipe for making the saag and I learnt one important thing. People do not cook mustard greens alone but blend it with palak and bathua (another green which is a typical winter crop). It is known as pigweed, goosefoot or melde; it is botanically Chenopodium album. This dark green is a close cousin of palak, amaranth and beetroot. All the information is fine but what do I ask for in Mylapore market (south Chennai)? it is referred to as 'Chakravarthi keerai (keerai is any green and chakravarthi means the same as in Sanskrit or Hindi).This is a rare commodity in the market and I found another variation of the green or a local cousin called ';Paruppu keerai'.

All these gathering information  and search for the green took two days and I decided to seek that lady in the corner of Madaveethi. I have been seeing this woman selling greens since the time in late 80s of last century! Just in front of the Indian Bank, before we enter the Maadaveethi, she spreads her ware almost every day. (Is it the same woman or different woman - only the greens remaining constant? she does not seem familiar to me unlike the sales person in the Khadi shop or the groundnuts shop owner. Ah...the irony of the highly perishable green being the constant!)

Does going to the market, walking around the temple tank, taking in all the sights and sounds require any extra push and encouragement? I love those fluid moments of being alone with myself, yet being part of the dynamic community. So, I launched this operation - with the definite end goal but the details were left open and flexible. 

(I can hear the voice of my mentor (Bhavana) looking deep into my eyes and asking about 'chunking down'.!!)

I had planned on entering one street around the tank and walking around to go that greens corner. I picked a few items on the way,  admired a flower vendor's colourful heap of flowers kept in  one aesthetic disarray. I engaged in a good-natured banter with her to get a picture of her flowers and of course her. Then entered the street where the Kapali temple is located. Once again, the bells of evening arathi beckoned me and I went in. ( This is the flexible component!). It was a time of deep connection. 

I came out of that road to the other side of the tank and walked till the end of the road and there she was, sitting with her spread of greens. I could see two bunches of paruppu keerai and I got one, and got back home. 

The sole focus
of my cooking the next day was cooking all the three greens with, ginger, garlic and green chilly and adding a 'seasoning of mustard, jeera and onions. I needed to blend the cooked greens in a mixer to a coarse consistency. 
I left for my class and when I came back, all I listened to was my daughter A raving about the saag. 

The next morning, my friend, the mustard plant nodded at me with her tiny little golden flowers. I smiled at her and provided water to her and all her friends there.