Book review

(The Hindu Magazine, June 18, 2011)

The Konkani Saraswat Cookbook by Asha S Philar

The perfect cookbook is easy to use. The perfect cookbook has lovely pictures that whet the appetite and culinary ambition, inspiring people to try the recipes in it. The perfect cookbook is made of the right paper; that is easy to write on, easy to read even through various identifiable and anonymous stains of spices, oils and the occasional singed hole. And the perfect cookbook has pages that stay open to a page; that can be turned with the handle of a ladle, wiped clean of spilled stock or coconut milk and put away without any worries that a damp volume could cause a whole shelf of books to catch fungus. Along the way, the perfect cookbook makes cooking simple, fun and not too stressful, with delicious results.

Unfortunately, Indian food being the genre it is, and publishers of Indian cookbooks interested more in a mass buyer base and low prices than the contents, very few Indian cookbooks handle any of the above-mentioned issues to any degree of satisfaction, making them in general very difficult to like...for me, at least.

This one has its moments, though not enough. It is exciting because the food is usually found in a home kitchen rather than a public eating space, and the recipes may vary from kitchen to kitchen, cook to cook, eater to eater. As with any recipe book speaking of food that is not familiar or comfortably classifiable, everything is subjective and a little tinkering works better than following every instruction faithfully. Fortunately, the organisation of the recipes was immaculate; from breakfast to festival menus, food segued smoothly through the day...and the year.

Once the aspiring cook (myself) of Konkani-Saraswat cuisine untangled the minor mysteries involved — since here usli equals upma, both of which are rather different in the Tam-Bram repertoire, some translation and de-confusing had to be done — and got past the phonetically graphic imagery of Mashinga Saang Ghalnu Kholmbo, it was fun to work on. Goli Baje, which sounded like a song from a Hindi movie, was a fritter that developed interesting shapes in the hot oil and tastes fabulous with a more western yoghurt dip. Gradually, things got more familiar with the Ravey Unde earning demands for more, the level of the Tomato Jam falling faster than manna from heaven and the Batate ‘High Jump' causing its fan club to leap up to catch the last, slightly crispy morsel of sautéed potato. The seafood, for which the Konkan region and the Saraswat kitchen are so well reputed, were highly spiced, redolent with the sweetness of grated coconut or coconut milk and ideal with thick buttery roti or a heap of fresh, hot, ghee-laden rice.

Does this book meet all the requirements for a perfect cookbook? No, but for its sheer ‘home food' value, for the little notes that the writer adds as helpful hints at the end of some recipes, for the effort and the involvement that has gone into it, the book is a treasure worth owning. Also, perhaps by the end of it, the user can figure out just what Konkani-Saraswat life is all about!