The staff of life

Do you take for granted your steaming bowl of rice with the fragrance of spices rising from the succulent white grains? Or your sweet cornbread with jalapeno bits blended into the batter? Or your whole-wheat English muffin, toasted, slathered with butter and orange marmalade?

I perhaps take for granted being able to enjoy all those things. It wasn't so very long ago that most people knew only one or two grains for dinner -- rice in Asia; corn (maize), wild rice or quinoa in America; millet, wheat, sorghum or barley in Africa, the Middle East and Europe; and rye and oats in Northern Europe.

And of course, some peoples consumed starch substitutes not technically in the grain family -- potatoes, taro, breadfruit, arrowroot, manioca, etc.

Collingham (Curry, A Tale of Cooks and Conquerors) describes the misery of a group of Indians (India Indians) traveling with a certain European across that vast sub-continent in the early 19th century. Seems their stomachs were used to the grains of their respective home-regions and suffered on other people's staples.

"They were unable to adapt to a different grain and when compelled or induced to try another, their digestions became disordered," the Englishman, Francis Buchanan, reported.

Curry in the Big Apple

I sampled a few more pages of Lizzie Collingham's book this morning, "Curry: A Tale of Cooks and Conquerors."

It is ironic that She begins Her account of Indian cuisine not in Mumbai, or even Tiruchchirappalli (say that ten times fast!), but in New York City. There are probably street signs in India older than New York City. But of course this brash young American metropolis is a gathering place for people from all around the world.

"The area in Manhattan where 1st Avenue intersects with East 6th Street is so overcrowded with Indian restaurants that it is known as Curry Row," Collingham writes.

Yet another reason why I want to visit New York City before I die.

Rebecca lives there. Maybe if She checks in here sometime soon, She can report firsthand about any experiences She might have had on Curry Row.

"Curry," continued

I am really enjoying this book -- so glad it caught my eye in an airport bookstore a few weeks ago. I didn't buy it there, just scribbled down the title, because everything in airports always costs much more than anywhere else. Bought the book at B&N a few days later.

So I have learned from the first chapter what I sort of knew already, but in greater detail: that speaking of India is like speaking of South America. Not a homogenous, stereotype-able bloc but a patchwork of languages and peoples, each cherishing their own customs and culture.

What was historic India is today several independent nations: Pakistan, Sri Lanka, Bangladesh, etc. Scattered across this vast swath of geography are people of widely differing religious practices -- Muslims, Hindus, Jains, Christians, etc, each with their own cultural practices. And within these groups are subgroups with their own differences. And in some cases, groups have mixed to create new groups, such as the fusion of Hinduism and Islam that gave rise to the Sikhs.

India's caste system also determines who eats what and how: a Brahmin and an untouchable theoretically have different diets based on concepts of ritual purity.

Of course, "Curry'"s theme is food and author Collingham points out that despite the huge differences in cuisine from region to region, and the overlay and adaptions from India's various conquerors, all true Indian cuisine is inspired by ancient Ayurvedic principles:

"The idea of mixing hot and cold foods to achieve a sublime blend of the six essential tastes (pungent, acidic, salty, sweet, astringent and bitter) still lies at the heart of Indian cookery today."