Miss Adventures

My staple during this hot Turkish summer has been kisir, what some call Turkish Tabbouleh. It’s not really a salad, but it makes the perfect cold side for stuffed peppers or karniyarik (another Turkish dish I’m making a lot lately).

I learned this recipe from my maid, but you can also find a perfectly good version in Claudia Roden’s Arabesque. Her book shows kisir served in traditionally in lettuce leaves, but you can easily leave it in a bowl if you feel like skipping the presentation. (more…)

There are a ton of books, both fiction and non-fiction, about Turkey and the Middle East. While most of them are useful in learning about the region’s history and culture, few hold my interest for more than a couple pages. That’s not the case for the following three books, which I am reading or have skimmed heavily (and plan to read when I get around to it).

Birds Without Wings. This novel, by the author of Corelli’s Mandolin, is set in Turkey during the population exchange. It gives a good overview of Greek/Turkish relations and also has a moving personal story.

 

 

 

The Root of Wild Madder: Chasing the History, Mystery, and Lore of the Persian Carpet. Part of the dance that is a visit to Turkey and the Middle East is the browsing (and possibly purchasing) of carpets. You sit, drink tea, and let carpet sellers unfurl dozens of colorful rugs in front of you. This book, which focuses more on Iran, the home of the Persian carpet, is a good primer on the history and production of carpets in general. I’ve yet to find a similar book that is specific to Turkey. Another book I like in this category is Tribal and Village Rugs: The Definitive Guide to Design, Pattern & Motif.

 

From the Holy Mountain. William Dalrymple has penned many excellent historical/travel books. This one’s subtitle is “A Journey in the Shadow of Byzantium,” and the author travels through parts of Turkey, Lebanon, Syria, Israel, Jordan, and Egypt in search of the roots of Christianity. I am also keen to point out Mr. Dalrymple’s latest nonfiction work, The Last Mughal, which looks at the events that led up to the downfall of India’s last emperor, Bahadur Shah II. In case you didn’t know, the Mughals of India had roots in Turkey and the Middle East. So, in many ways, I feel like I’m following in Dalrymple’s footsteps…but perhaps in reverse.

As I come across more good reads about Turkey, I will add them to my Amazon store. In the meantime, I hope you enjoy these suggestions.

All I have ever heard about the great Indian mango is true – it is the ripest, freshest, and one of the most enjoyable fruits ever. Forget the scrawny, stringy tasteless Mexican mangoes that we have to settle for in the U.S. Mangoes are the real deal here – and there’s more than one kind.

Eight long months we have been waiting for mango season. In the meantime, we have had plenty of fruits to make us happy: papaya, oranges, sweet limes, pineapple, grapes, watermelon, cantaloupe, tender coconut, and guava. I like papaya in doses (not dosas!), but it can go gelatinous fairly quickly if you cut it and put it in the fridge. Fresh pineapple has been a godsend, and I still try to have it every day if not every week. It was a joy to discover that watermelons were at their peak here in November and December; cantaloupes have also been quite good for some months now. Around Christmas, a Goan co-worker introduced me to Guava cheese, a traditional yuletide snack that’s basically just equal amounts of guava and sugar boiled and blended together, then hardened and shaped (sometimes into triangle wedges so as to attain a cheesy resemblance). And limes and sweet limes are around all the time for making fresh/sweet lime soda, a local specialty that’s so much more light and refreshing than a lassi.

Unless, of course, you’re talking about a mango lassi.
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Admittedly, I haven’t been the healthiest of eaters since arriving in Bombay almost a month ago. I’ve eaten well, of course, but I’ve also drawn a complete blank about what I used to eat back home. You see eggplants, tomatoes, and spinach at the market, but your context changes. At the moment, eggplant parmigiana seems impossible to make - where do I get mozzarella? where do I get good e.v.o.o.? Basil?

It’s all available here. In fact, I know it is because I had pureed white bean soup with porcini mushrooms and a slice of snapper on a bed of polenta with tomato coulis at Indigo last week. It is one of the most expensive - and trendy - restaurants in Mumbai, but we still only spent about 20 bucks per person, including drinks.

I’m also feeling lost because my kitchen tools haven’t arrived yet. I’m missing a good sharp knife, a blender, my stand mixer, TONGS. What did I ever do without tongs? It’s useless to buy those things here because I really don’t want to duplicate. So, for the moment, cooking is difficult.

Of course, what do I care? One of the pleasures of living in India is having a maid. Ours cooks for us every night (if we want her to), and she does it well. My problem is figuring out what her repertoire is. At first, she made only very mild, very bland dishes, such as roast chicken and vegetables. Then, we told her that we also like Bhartiya khana - Indian food - so she has stuck to that. Frankly, it’s quite amazing that I come home to a freshly prepared Indian meal every night. There’s always daal, rice (yellow or white, but always perfectly cooked), and typically a vegetarian dish or two. I’m especially fond of the peas and paneer. But I’m ready for some variety - and am longing for the dog-eared cookbooks that I used to consult each night.

I’ve always thought that variety was the spice of life….here, it’s more like spice IS the variety.
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So again I find myself in the right place at the right time with the launch of the newest tome of nonfiction on Bombay entitled Maximum City: Bombay Lost and Found. It’s a book I read about in the September Vogue before leaving, so I was sure to go to the book reading and signing at the Kemps Corner branch of Crossword in Bombay.

Judging from my first glance at the first chapter and from the readings at the event, I know I’m going to enjoy this book, even if it does mean investing some serious time in reading all 560 pages.

Suketu Mehta, the author, invited two actors to read passages from his book tonight. And, despite some uncomfortable moments caused by beeping cell phones and a rush hour traffic jam outside the thin windows, the readings went quite well. Kitu Gidwani and Rahul Bose did the honors.

Some passages I enjoyed included the one on India being the “country of the ‘no’; the Powertoni chapter, which highlights the 1992-1993 Muslim-Hindu riots and was the original kernel for the book as an article in Granta; and a long chapter, not yet sure of the name, that looks at the Bombay underworld and the Hindi slang that goes with it. “Uska kam kiya,” for example, can mean “I killed him” or “I worked for him,” among other things. Looking forward to reading that passage closely.

Mehta told the crowd of about 50-100 people (there are so many people in this city that my crowd number perspective is kind of warped) that it took him 2.5 years to research the book and 3 to 4 years to write. After a question from an audience member asking Mehta, whose family moved to New York City in 1977 and who returned only several years ago to live and do research, confessed that it is possible “to go home again,” but one must leave first to gain perspective. He likened “staying put” to a frog in a pot of boiling water: it notices changes, but only gradually.

With that, I’m thinking that I may be writing more and more about Washington, Rome, and some other places that are long gone but still on my mind. In the meantime, I’ll be putting together some more tales about Ganesha - great pics are on the way!

Okay. So I did it. I haven’t been here more than three weeks, and I got this outrageous craving for a burger today. I think it’s because I was emailing my former colleagues at the Diner and it got me thinking back to the hundreds of burgers I ate and/or served while there.

I hate it. It’s terribly American - aka gauche - of me to order a burger in the land of the Holy Cow. And, for god’s sake, it’s Friday. Then again, I’m not Hindu, nor am I Catholic. And, my many attempts at pure veg eating have failed because of my weakness for hot dogs and cured meats.
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Saturday I went to see the 10:30AM showing of Fahrenheit 9/11, and I cried and cried throughout the entire two hours. I don’t know if that’s what Michael Moore was going for when he made the movie, but it really hit me like a ton of bricks, starting with the scene when you hear - not see - the planes crashing into the towers until the scene when Lila Lipscomb visits the White House.

A note to the heartless woman who thought the latter scene was staged: that poor Middle Eastern lady has lived under that yellow tent in front of White House for years. I’ll go down and snap a pic of it some time this week. That scene really angered me.

Anyhow, the film is definitely worth seeing.

Last night, I had the pleasure of watching the New York Yankees trounce the Baltimore Orioles 10-4. So the Yankees bought their talent – isn’t that what professional baseball teams are supposed to do? Alex Rodriguez’s salary is indeed bloated, but after seeing him belt two homers – and drive in half of the Yankees’ runs – I certainly feel like he was worth every penny. He made me a believer.

I’m sure he made a number of Orioles fans believers, too, even if they didn’t like the score. Last night was the highest attendance EVER at Camden Yards. 49,696 people came to the game. And though it was a great night for a ballgame, I’m pretty sure that many people showed up on a Tuesday evening just to watch A-Rod play.

Baseball is back, and early attendance records can back me up. For this reason, but not for this reason alone, I’d like to advocate the relocation of the Montreal Expos to Washington, DC.
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I’ve desperately been trying to think of how to redesign my personal web site and came across this helpful site. The Web Style Guide lays out the whole process, giving you tips on design, editorial style, and graphics.

Now if I can find a web site on overcoming procrastinating tendencies…

Zucchini is in season right now, and soon there will be so much we won’t know what to do with it. I could probably eat zucchini everyday. It’s so versatile - grill it, sautee it, fry it up. Yesterday morning, I took to frittering it.

I modified this recipe from the May 2002 issue of Bon Appetit. It was a special “Mediterranan” edition, and I think these fritters were inspired by recipes from the Greek island of Samos (maybe Syros). At any rate, the recipe needs to be tested again, as the fritters didn’t come out perfectly. Some solutions follow:
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