This article is from the source 'nytimes' and was first published or seen on . It last changed over 40 days ago and won't be checked again for changes.

You can find the current article at its original source at http://www.nytimes.com/2013/05/15/dining/taking-a-curry-cooking-class-in-kerala.html

The article has changed 3 times. There is an RSS feed of changes available.

Version 0 Version 1
The Rickshaw Driver’s Curry The Rickshaw Driver’s Curry
(about 2 hours later)
Kumily, India — One of the best parts of traveling, at least for me, is bringing back a food story, a new ingredient or a recipe. My family journeyed last year from the verdant tea plantations of Myanmar down to the Cardamom Hills of Kerala, in southwestern India. Our driver, Janaki Raman, who had proved himself by dodging many a cow on the winding mountain roads, asked whether we might like to go to a local cooking class. Kumily, India — One of the best parts of traveling, at least for me, is bringing back a food story, a new ingredient or a recipe. My family journeyed last year from the verdant tea plantations of Munnar down to the Cardamom Hills of Kerala, in southwestern India. Our driver, Janaki Raman, who had proved himself by dodging many a cow on the winding mountain roads, asked whether we might like to go to a local cooking class.
“The instructor is a rickshaw driver who teaches cooking at night,” Mr. Raman said. Game for almost anything, my son and I rode to a residential area abutting Periyar National Park to find a ramshackle house and, on the cement deck outside, a handful of tourists in their 20s peeling carrots and snipping beans.“The instructor is a rickshaw driver who teaches cooking at night,” Mr. Raman said. Game for almost anything, my son and I rode to a residential area abutting Periyar National Park to find a ramshackle house and, on the cement deck outside, a handful of tourists in their 20s peeling carrots and snipping beans.
Kerala cooking is filled with cardamom, pepper, cashew nuts and mangoes, which seem to grow in every backyard. Grated coconut chutney accompanies almost every meal, and every market sells different kinds of graters. The one my fellow classmates and I used was called a cherava, a sharp serrated oval blade firmly attached to the elongated end of a small stool. The method was to sit on the stool holding half a coconut and grate it over the blade in a circular motion.Kerala cooking is filled with cardamom, pepper, cashew nuts and mangoes, which seem to grow in every backyard. Grated coconut chutney accompanies almost every meal, and every market sells different kinds of graters. The one my fellow classmates and I used was called a cherava, a sharp serrated oval blade firmly attached to the elongated end of a small stool. The method was to sit on the stool holding half a coconut and grate it over the blade in a circular motion.
Our teacher, Sheril J. Sukumaran, halved the coconuts with a cleaver, spilling the coconut water into his mouth before handing the halves to whoever was at the cherava. He and his two sisters showed us how to mold paratha, an Indian bread made in the south from white flour, and fry it on a hot grill over the gas burners near a clay oven. And they demonstrated the general principles of making a curry using green beans, okra and red beets. The vegetables were cut first, then the spices were added to hot coconut oil.Our teacher, Sheril J. Sukumaran, halved the coconuts with a cleaver, spilling the coconut water into his mouth before handing the halves to whoever was at the cherava. He and his two sisters showed us how to mold paratha, an Indian bread made in the south from white flour, and fry it on a hot grill over the gas burners near a clay oven. And they demonstrated the general principles of making a curry using green beans, okra and red beets. The vegetables were cut first, then the spices were added to hot coconut oil.
“When the mustard seeds are dancing in the oil and you hear them pop,” Mr. Sukumaran said, “you can add the onions, chiles and beans, okra or whatever fruit or vegetable you want.” Plucking a pineapple off a nearby plant, he said, “Let’s try this.”“When the mustard seeds are dancing in the oil and you hear them pop,” Mr. Sukumaran said, “you can add the onions, chiles and beans, okra or whatever fruit or vegetable you want.” Plucking a pineapple off a nearby plant, he said, “Let’s try this.”
We loved the resulting pineapple curry. But the harrowing trip back to our hotel, with Mr. Sukumaran at the controls of his auto-rickshaw? Not so much. The ride was included in the price of the cooking lesson: 500 rupees, or about $9.25.We loved the resulting pineapple curry. But the harrowing trip back to our hotel, with Mr. Sukumaran at the controls of his auto-rickshaw? Not so much. The ride was included in the price of the cooking lesson: 500 rupees, or about $9.25.