Well, here I am at 100 posts! The subject of this one has never been in doubt.

While I have shared some thoughts in the past few years about how my maternal grandmother indulged and encouraged my love of cooking, I think this is the perfect time to reflect on some memories of her, away from her busy kitchen.

By the time I really became aware of my grandmother, Balia Mama, (Big Mama, as a cheeky older cousin had decided to address her, and we all followed suit) years of ill health had taken a toll on her physically. For all that delicious food she cooked to feed the hearty appetites of the extended family, she hardly seemed to eat anything herself at all. A piece of unbuttered toast and a cup of a nutritional drink like Sanatogen or Horlick’s. A cup of milky coffee with a Marie biscuit or two. The smallest portion of soup in the evenings. That seemed to be her diet.

It always made me a little sad to see her eating so frugally, while around her, the vast quantities of food she had prepared so lovingly, were polished off with great gusto. And yet, she was up the earliest in the household, on her feet all morning, with brief breaks to sit down and read the papers, or to sip some tea. She refused to sleep in the afternoons, sitting, instead, in a straight backed chair near the kitchen, catnapping a little before setting about preparing something for tea.

When the dining table was cleared between meals, she would set up her letter writing paraphernalia – a glue bottle, a stack of “inland letter” forms, stamps, letter pad, envelopes – then put on her glasses, and with a big black pen, proceed to run off letters to absent children or grandchildren. Receiving a letter from her while I was in boarding school was a wonderful thing. Not just for the comfort of home it represented, but for the succinct, unintentionally droll manner in which she would summarize what she considered newsworthy events. Her large, rolling script would eat up the three sides of the inland letter forms, and she’d sign off with love from B. Mama. She never did get over addressing me in letters as “Shailini”, but I didn’t mind in the least!

Grandmother was generally a quiet person, going about her work, speaking only if she thought it absolutely necessary, which wasn’t often. She was serious, but not stern. Completely at odds with this persona, were her occasional lapses into fits of infectious laughter. When something tickled her funny bone, she would heave silently with laughter that would leave her gasping for breath, tears of mirth streaming down her face. It was a rare and delightful glimpse of an unexpectedly carefree, girlish side of her.

I’ve often wondered what it might be like to observe her at work in her household when she was younger. There were little clues around the house of an artistic side – embroidered hand towels, candlewick cushion covers, bits of fabric patterned in a medley of complicated needlework – skills, no doubt, acquired at St Joseph’s Convent in Mercara under the strict supervision of  nuns.

And there was her garden of course. Walking and climbing stairs became difficult in her later life, but when she could still manage it, grandmother loved to be in her garden. Early in the day, it was the kitchen garden at the back of the house, for some dewey fresh and fragrant jasmine for the prayer room. Mid morning, a trip to pick some fresh beans, or cucumber and tomatoes for a salad. In the late afternoons and early evenings, you’d find her tending to her beautiful rose bushes, or overseeing the watering, and trimming the many gorgeously coloured bougainvillea bushes that lit up the garden.

If I saw an active kitchen as a child, it certainly wasn’t anything close to what my mother recalls from her childhood. Her accounts of my grandmother’s daily routine back then, leave me with an even deeper respect for her. And so, too, for all those homemakers like her, to whom we owe a debt of gratitude for their part in making our lives comfortable, nourishing us in body and spirit, and for helping create these memories that sustain us.

I never had an opportunity to cook anything for my maternal grandmother. I won’t count the endless bowls of  artificially flavoured custards that I would enthusiastically stir up with milk and sugar, feeling terribly accomplished for having “cooked it from scratch”! Despite being diabetic, she gamely sampled them to humour me. Bonus points if there were no lumps!

I know that she enjoyed mutton, and preferred things simply spiced. What would I choose to cook for her today? I think some braised lamb or mutton would be in order. And since she was no stranger to a little innovation a slight departure from that too.

So, here it is, for grandmother, with love and gratitude. Two versions of a pepper fry. I hope she’d approve. 🙂

Nalla Malu Chops Barthad

Peppery braised mutton/lamb chops

• 4 lamb or mutton chops
• 2 cups finely sliced or chopped shallots
• 1/2 tbsp fresh ginger paste
• 1/2 tbsp fresh garlic paste
• 1/2  tsp turmeric powder
• 1 tbsp coriander powder
• 1 – 2 tbsp finely ground black pepper
• 2-3 tbsp oil
• 1/2 tsp kachampuli
• Salt to taste

Marinate the chops with the ginger and garlic paste and a little salt. Set aside for 30 minutes.

Heat the oil and fry the onions until they begin to turn deep brown.

Add the chops and fry quickly until the ginger and garlic no longer smell raw.

Add the dry spices and stir for a minute.

Add salt and a cup of hot water, then cover and cook (or pressure cook) until done.

Stir in the kachampuli ( or add a squeeze of lime juice at the time of serving) and cook for a couple more minutes.

Tomato pepper chops

A little variation

• 4 lamb chops
• 1 cup birishta* (crisp fried onions)
• 2 tbsp tomato paste (concentrate)
• I/2 tbsp fresh ginger paste
• 1/2 tbsp fresh garlic paste
• 1/2 tsp turmeric powder
• 2 tbsp whole coriander
• 1 tbsp whole black peppercorns
• Salt to taste
• 2-3 tbsp oil

Marinate the chops with a mixture of the tomato, turmeric, ginger, garlic and a little salt. Set aside for 30 minutes.

Crush the peppercorns,coriander, salt and birishta roughly and mix together.

Press the chops into the above mixture to coat them. Don’t worry if the covering is a little uneven.

Heat the oil in a wide, heavy based pan and fry the chops on medium-low for 3-4 minutes on each side.

Drain on absorbent paper and serve immediately.

*Use good quality store bought, or make your own by deep frying onions until browned and crisp. If using store bought, taste for salt before adding any as these are sometimes salted in the frying process.