Friday, April 17, 2009

Chinese Cuisine

I wish someone would just draw a culinary map of China for me.
Fuchsia Dunlop comes close here in her interview with Leo Carey's "Tables for Two."

An excerpt:
The main dividing line in Chinese cuisine is between the wheat-eating north and the rice-eating south. Beyond that, it gets more complicated. The most widespread convention is to talk of four great regional cuisines.
In the north you have lu cai (Shandong cuisine) or jing cai (Beijing cuisine), which is based on wheat made into a vast array of pastas, breads, and dumplings. The influence of northern nomads is felt in the use of mutton, and typical seasonings include dark Shanxi vinegar, garlic, and chilli. A narrower range of vegetables are used than in the south; cabbage and da cong (a member of the allium family that resembles a rather tender leek). Shandong cuisine, with its expensive dried seafoods and legendary soups, is the haute cuisine of the north and was at the heart of imperial-court cookery. In Beijing, you also find Manchu influences, for example in sweetmeats like sha qi ma, made from deep-fried dough strands bound together with syrup.
In the east, there is huaiyang or weiyang cai (Yangzhou cuisine), the broader school into which Hangzhou cooking falls. This is associated with the refined and cultured lives of the Chinese literati, and characterized by exquisite cutting skills, subtle but varied flavors, aquatic foods like crab and shrimp, and the use of local preserves such as Zhenjiang vinegar, Shaoxing wine,and Jinhua ham. Red-braising is one of the favorite cooking methods of this region.
The western school is chuan cai, or Sichuanese cuisine, notable for its lavish use of chillies and Sichuan peppers, and its bold, complex flavors (like yu xiang wei, fish-fragrant flavor, a punchy combination of pickled chilli, ginger, garlic, and scallion, with a bit of sweet-and-sour). And in the South is yue cai, or Cantonese cooking, with its extremely fresh ingredients, light, bright flavors, precise cooking, and, of course, a thriving dim-sum tradition. According to people in other parts of China, it’s the Cantonese who “eat everything”: they are very adventurous in their ingredients.
Of course, this is still a terrible oversimplification: dig a little deeper and you find cuisines like the Hunanese (xiang cai) and Fujianese (min cai), other styles like Hakka and Buddhist vegetarian, the diverse culinary traditions of the ethnic minorities (highlighted in Naomi Duguid and Jeffrey Alford’s latest book), and countless extremely local specialities. And, of course, there are no real borders between different styles: they are very fluid, with plenty of mutual influences and cross-fertilization.

Sunday, April 12, 2009

Swimming to Cambodia

or just getting there the usual way by airplane, you'll find that there is much to do other than trek the ruins of Angkor Wat, which admittedly is beautiful despite the state it is in today.

Tourism is being a nascent industry in this beautiful country and everyday mainstream media is pointing to newer and newer destinations within.

NYT: 36 Hours in Cambodia

Thai Museum at Angkor

TIME magazine: Beyond Angkor









If you are in Siam Reap and want to take a tuk-tuk ride consider hiring this honest guy by name

Mr. Nem Nak
Phone Number: 012 354 898.

Saturday, December 27, 2008

Forever in M.S.Blue

by Vikram Doctor



MUMBAI:
Vandyke Brown, Titian Red, MS Blue... one of the unexpected achievements of MS Subbulakshmi, the great Carnatic singer, who passed away on Saturday in Chennai, was in being one of the few people to have a colour named after her, and certainly, the only singer. MS Blue was the name given to a distinctive shade of blue, inky yet iridescent and shot through with black and green highlights, that was used in saris woven specially for her by Kancheepuram Muthu Chattiyar, a fan who was also a sari merchant.

There was perhaps an element of business sense mingled with his devotion, because as soon as ‘MS’ started wearing the saris, they became a rage and Chattiyar was besieged by south Indian ladies, who simply had to have an “MS Blue” sari. By restricting his supply, Chattiyar ensured that for m any years a sari in the correct MS Blue shade was a coveted item. We associate fashion trends with fashion designers and film stars, yet Subbulakshmi was setting style long before them. For a singer – and one from as conservative a field as Carnatic music – to make such an impact in visual areas as colour and fashion is an indication of Subbulakshmi’s celebrity status. This term might seem odd for her, since in her modesty, her devotion to her music and, above all, in her refusal to cash in on her talent (most of her fees were given to charity), she seems light years from the money-chasing celebrities we are used to now.

Yet Subbulakshmi was a celebrity and one as consciously created as any other. To acknowledge this does not detract for a moment from her musical achievement. Subbulakshmi had a voice and talent that only come once in a generation, if at all. Yet other geniuses of the Indian arts have failed to achieve her international success, nor managed to set trends within India. “With most Carnatic musicians, unless you are a music lover, you do not have a strong visual association with their name,” says Mani Ayer, the ex-head of Ogilvy & Mather ad agency. “But when you think of Subbulakshmi you can instantly see her face.”

The large eyes, the red tikka mark on her forehead, the diamond earrings and double nose-rings, the circlet of jasmines in her hair, all form a visual signature as strong as any brand. Two men were responsible for this. Subbulakshmi’s husband, T Sadasivam, has a mixed reputation with her devotees, with shades of Svengali for what is said to be his total control over her. Yet this overlooks the fact that this ‘control’ wasn’t exercised for personal gains, but to further her reputation. As advertising manager for the Ananda Vikatan magazine, Mr Sadasivam had the necessary marketing skills. With him in charge of her career and image, she could focus on her music.

The other contributor to the Subbulakshmi image was more exotic. Ellis R Dungan was a Hollywood-trained cinematographer who came to India in 1935 at the invitation of Mani Lal Tandon, a college friend at the University of Southern California, whose family had Bollywood links. The idea was for Dungan to help Tandon with a film for six months, but when that fell through, Dungan started looking for other projects and ended up with the budding Tamil film industry. Six months turned into 15 years during which Dungan directed 17 feature films in Tamil and Hindi. Subbulakshmi’s entry into Tamil films was thanks to Sadasivam who, in 1937, got her to act in her first film, Savitri, to raise money for Kalki, the magazine he was to start with R ‘Kalki’ Krishnamurthy. Dungan’s first Tamil film Sathi Leelavathi (1936) was based on a serial in Ananda Vikatan and through this connection he had met Sadasivam. He agreed to direct Subbulakshmi in Sakunthalathai (1940) and Meera (1945), her last and most famous film, which helped fix her image as a bhakti singer.

Dungan is credited with identifying her saintly beauty and finding out how best to present it. He even went to the extent of making a plaster cast of her face, which he studied carefully to decide what lighting would suit her best. “With Subbulakshmi you had everything: great music, real beauty, a saintly personality, the careful presented details like the red tikka she always had,” adds Mani Ayer. “Perhaps subconsciously, her husband really knew how to market her.”

Subbulakshmi’s musical genius may have passed beyond recovery, but like the ‘MS Blue’ saris, which can still be ordered in Chennai shops, the lessons of her image remain for artists to learn from.

Friday, December 19, 2008

From the TIME website

THE FINANCIAL EXPERT (I 78 pp.)—R. K. Narayan — Michigan State College Press ($3).

India has fascinated many Western writers, but whether they celebrated the white man's burden, like Kipling, or deplored the excesses of imperialism, like E. M. Forster, they were usually outsiders observing from a distance. In recent years, the Indians have been raising novelists of their own, such as G. V. (for Govindas Vishnoodas) Desani, author of the high-comic All About H. Hatterr (TIME, June 18, 1951). Now comes R. K. (for Rasi-puram Krishnaswami) Narayan, a gently satirical fellow and a writer of substance. At 45, Narayan has published half a dozen novels and scores of stories, forming a miniature comedie humaine of modern India.

The Financial Expert traces the rise & fall of Margayya, a proud, overimaginative moneylender who keeps bank each day under a banyan tree. Margayya makes a good living from small loans, but he is not satisfied; he dreams of real wealth. The local priest advises Margayya to woo the gods with a special rite: mix the ashes of a red lotus with milk drawn from a smoke-colored cow. Sure enough, not long after, Margayya meets Dr. Pal, a sociologist who has written a book called Bed-Life, or the Science of Marital Happiness. The first chapters make Margayya blush, but they also make him want to read on. Then the idea hits him: he publishes Dr. Pal's manuscript under the discreet title, Domestic Harmony.

Sales are sensational; Margayya is rich, but still he does not rest content. With his new wealth, he goes into banking on a big scale, offering depositors 20% on their money. The town comes knocking, thrusting its money into his hands.

Now Margayya is vastly rich: the money lies stacked in piles throughout his house. He becomes a specialist on the subject of interest on capital, which seems to him "the greatest wonder of creation, [combining] the mystery of birth and multiplication." All goes well, except that his only son, once a charming little fellow, now becomes sullen and spoiled. Egged on by the worthless Dr. Pal, the boy tries to get more & more money from Margayya; when Margayya resists, Dr. Pal spreads a rumor that Margayya is a fraud. In a matter of hours, the bank is bankrupt.

But Margayya still keeps his bounce. When he .cannot persuade his son to take up the old spot under the banyan tree, he decides to go back to the tree himself and start all over again.

Novelist Narayan tells his story with an abundance of good nature. Let the philosophers of history ponder the formal gravities of the meeting of East and West, he seems to be saying. For a man with a novelist's eye, there is also plenty of warmhearted comedy in the situation.

Click to Print Find this article at:
http://www.time.com/time/magazine/article/0,9171,935375,00.html

Friday, December 12, 2008

From The Hindu

Letter from a young widow to a widower

The following short essay, written in the form of a letter, appeared in a Gujarati journal in November 1864. Although anonymously published, the author was known to be Narmad (Narmadashankar Lalshankar 1833-1855), a versatile figure - poet, essayist and historian of 19th Century Gujarat. Written in the assumed persona of a 16-year-old widow and addressed to a "sheth who has recently lost his wife", the letter highlights in a provocative manner some of the contentious issues in the reform movement. Dandiyo, the journal which carried this piece was edited by Narmad.Translated and introduced by TRIDIP SUHRUD, National Institute of Design, Ahmedabad.


What is to be done with this letter which was found on the street? The sender has not given her name, and hence it cannot be returned to her. We do not know of anyone called Jivan Sheth, so it cannot be reached to the addressee. Oh, it looks like a love letter. The norm is that one should not read love letters meant for others. But this is an open letter. Such ungracious love of the uncultured should be condemned. No, no, friends - wait: this says something good. There may be a possibility here to rectify an injustice. Let us read it aloud (Dandiyo reads it):

"My Jivan Sheth,
You, the high and mighty do not know me, a pitiful creature, but I know you well. I know it is not seemly that I, a poor woman should take the initiative and write to you as if I have known you all your life. Also it is not proper that in the very first letter I should spout wise words as if I am a member of your household. But to tell you the truth, just as the selfish are blind, the lustful are eager and the proud keen, I have become like this.

My Jivan Sheth, what has happened is very sad indeed. Your deceased wife, the Shethani was a good human being. She was not proud of her wealth and position. Although she was not literate or smart, she did understand the duties of a woman. It was not time for her to die - so many women go through pregnancies safely and give birth. But thank god she was already the mother of four or five children. There could not be a greater good fortune for her than to have you light her pyre.

Those who are left behind have to bear the sorrow. Is it not sad to see four or five young children pining for their mother? And you loved her so much that despite all your wealth, her absence makes you poor and humble. I am younger to you and hence it is not right for me to console you, but I look at you differently. Such things go on in the world. May I request you not to be overwhelmed by grief and urge you to do something soon for yourself and your children.
My Jivan Sheth, you are not old - you must be barely 32. To my eyes you appear even younger. You might hesitate now to get emotionally involved with someone again, but for the sake of your children and for your own morals, do you have any option? If not immediately, in a month or two you will take a step in that direction.

Jivan Sheth, do not get angry. I am a woman and I am proposing to you a marriage alliance. You will probably doubt my morals. But I do this as an expression of true love, and freedom that comes with education, combined with the fear that someone else might get you. I make this request to you my Krishna, like Rukmini.

My Sheth, I am a beautiful woman of 16 and I believe in the reformers. You might give up your reformist practice out of fear, but I will never give it up. When the Shethani died, apprehensive of social criticism you gave many gifts to the temples. You even allowed women to gather in your house to weep and beat their chests to express their grief. I would never have done that. If we allow these things how can we count ourselves among the reformers? Anyway, let that pass. What do you think of my proposal?

Jivan Sheth, I am not after your money. But I am eager and hopeful that I can make you and your children happy. I also hope others follow your example and give new life to women like me.
When women like me get the opportunity to start anew, much of the misfortunes of our society will disappear. Noble acts require great and courageous people to perform them. Only the great have both money and influence. Others emulate their example. Therefore do not be afraid of what people might say at this point of time. Consider the immortality you will achieve by giving a new lease of life to a widow.

My Jivan Sheth what more can I say to the wise? Losing an opportunity is like suffering a loss.
I do not consider it wise to reveal my name at this stage. But if your heart also surges with similar feelings, and you want to perform this good deed, write a letter to Dandiyo. I shall eagerly await your response."

Salutations from a beautiful, virtuous, but a widowed woman.

This series is co-ordinated by Meenakshi Mukherjee.

Tuesday, November 11, 2008

from the nyt

October 7, 2008
A Dead Language That’s Very Much Alive
By WINNIE HU
NEW ROCHELLE, N.Y. — The Latin class at Isaac E. Young Middle School here was reading a story the other day with a familiar ring: Boy annoys girl, girl scolds boy. Only in this version, the characters were named Sextus and Cornelia, and they argued in Latin.
“I can relate, but what the heck are they saying?” said Xavier Peña, a sixth grader who started studying Latin in September.
Enrollment in Latin classes here in this Westchester County suburb has increased by nearly one-third since 2006, to 187 of the district’s 10,500 students, and the two middle schools in town are starting an ancient-cultures club in which students will explore the lives of Romans, Greeks and others.
The resurgence of a language once rejected as outdated and irrelevant is reflected across the country as Latin is embraced by a new generation of students like Xavier who seek to increase SAT scores or stand out from their friends, or simply harbor a fascination for the ancient language after reading Harry Potter’s Latin-based chanting spells.
The number of students in the United States taking the National Latin Exam has risen steadily to more than 134,000 students in each of the past two years, from 124,000 in 2003 and 101,000 in 1998, with large increases in remote parts of the country like New Mexico, Alaska and Vermont. The number of students taking the Advanced Placement test in Latin, meanwhile, has nearly doubled over the past 10 years, to 8,654 in 2007. While Spanish and French still dominate student schedules — and Chinese and Arabic are trendier choices — Latin has quietly flourished in many high-performing suburbs, like New Rochelle, where Latin’s virtues are sung by superintendents and principals who took it in their day. In neighboring Pelham, the 2,750-student district just hired a second full-time Latin teacher after a four-year search, learning that scarce Latin teachers have become more sought-after than ever.
On Long Island, the Jericho district is offering an Advanced Placement course in Latin for the first time this year after its Latin enrollment rose to 120 students, a 35 percent increase since 2002. In nearby Great Neck, 36 fifth graders signed up last year for before- and after-school Latin classes that were started by a 2008 graduate who has moved on to study classics at Stanford (that student’s brother and a friend will continue to lead the Latin classes this year).
Latin is also thriving in New York City, where it is currently taught in about three dozen schools , including Brooklyn Latin, a high school in East Williamsburg that started in 2006. Four years of Latin, and two of Spanish, are required at the new high school, where Latin phrases adorn the walls and words like discipuli (students), magistri (teachers) and latrina (bathroom) are sprinkled into everyday conversation.
“It’s the language of scholars and educated people,” said Jason Griffiths, headmaster of Brooklyn Latin. “It’s the language of people who are successful. I think it’s a draw, and that’s certainly what we sell.”
Adam D. Blistein, executive director of the American Philological Association at the University of Pennsylvania, which represents more than 3,000 members, including classics professors and Latin teachers, said that more high schools were recognizing the benefits of Latin. It builds vocabulary and grammar for higher SAT scores, appeals to college admissions officers as a sign of critical-thinking skills and fosters true intellectual passion, he said.
“Goethe is better in German, Flaubert is better in French and Virgil is better in Latin,” Dr. Blistein said. “If you stick with it, the lollipop comes at the end when you get to read the original. In many cases, it’s what whets their appetite.”
Latin was once required at many public and parochial schools, but fell into disfavor during the 1960s when students rebelled against traditional classroom teachings and even the Roman Catholic Church moved away from Latin as the official language of Mass. Interest in Latin was revived somewhat in the 1970s and began picking up in the 1980s with the back-to-basics movement in many schools, according to Latin scholars, but really took off in the last few years as a language long seen as a stodgy ivory tower secret infiltrated popular culture.
Harry Potter books use Latin words for names and spells, and at least two have been translated into Latin (“Harrius Potter et Philosophi Lapis”), as have several by Dr. Seuss (“Cattus Petasatus”). Movies like “Gladiator” and “Troy” have also lent glamour to the ancient world.
“Sometimes you need to know Latin to understand that part,” said Adrian McCullough, 10, a sixth grader in New Rochelle who plans to reread the Harry Potter books now that he is learning Latin.
Marty Abbott, education director of the American Council on the Teaching of Foreign Languages, said it was possible that Latin would edge out German as the third most popular language taught in schools, behind Spanish and French, when the preliminary results of an enrollment survey are released next year. In the last survey, covering enrollment in 2000, Latin placed fourth. “In people’s minds, it’s coming back,” she said. “But it’s always been there. It’s just that we continue to see interest in it.”
Ms. Abbott, a former Latin teacher, said that today’s Latin classes appeal to more students because they have evolved from “dry grammar and tortuous translations” to livelier lessons that focus on culture, history and the daily life of the Romans. In addition, she said, Latin teachers and students have promoted the language outside the classroom through clubs, poetry competitions and mock chariot races.
In Scarsdale, N.Y., where Latin enrollment rose by 14 percent to 80 this year, the high school sponsors a Roman banquet on the Ides of March during which students come wearing tunics and wreaths in their hair. Seniors serve bread, olives, roasted chicken and grapes to younger students, and all of them break bread with their hands. Dr. Marion Polsky, the Latin teacher, said that former students still send her postcards written in Latin and that at least three have gone on to become Latin teachers.
Here in New Rochelle, the district introduced a Latin class for sixth graders last year and is now adding a second Latin class for seventh graders. Richard Organisciak, the superintendent, said the district had spent $273,000 since 2006 to promote foreign languages including Latin. Last month, the district also started a dual-language English-Italian kindergarten and a Greek class at the high school; it is considering offering Chinese next fall.
The high school principal, Don Conetta, said he had encouraged more students to study Latin, though he acknowledged that he was hardly “a stellar student” himself in Latin and came to appreciate its value only later in life.
“If my Latin teachers could hear me now,” he said. “I took three years in high school, and four semesters in college, and I can’t remember the first line of Cicero’s orations.”
Students like Ciera Gardner, a sophomore, started Latin three years ago with two friends who have since dropped out because of the workload. But Ciera, an aspiring actress, said that she had persisted because Latin would look good on her college applications and that in the meantime, it had already helped her decipher unfamiliar words while reading scripts. “It’s different,” she said. “Everyone says ‘I take Spanish’ or ‘I take Italian,’ but it’s cool to say ‘I take Latin.’ ”
Max Gordon, another sophomore, said that he had learned more about grammar in Latin class than in English class. And he occasionally debates the finer points of grammar with his mother, Kit Fitzgerald, a video artist who studied Latin, while washing dishes after dinner.
“In some ways, it’s really frustrating,” he said. “I’ll hear someone say something that isn’t grammatically correct and I’ll cringe.”

Saturday, October 25, 2008

Rushdie Forever

From his collection of Essays " Imaginary Homelands"


A KISS BEFORE READING
I grew up kissing books and bread.

In our house, whenever anyone dropped a book or let fall a chapati or a "slice," which was our word for a triangle of buttered leavened bread, the fallen object was required not only to be picked up but also kissed, by way of apology for the act of clumsy disrespect. I was as careless and butterfingered as any child and, accordingly, during my childhood years, I kissed a large number of "slices" and also my fair share of books.

Devout households in India often contained, and still contain, persons in the habit of kissing holy books. But we kissed everything. We kissed dictionaries and atlases. We kissed Enid Blyton novels and Superman comics. If I'd ever dropped the telephone directory I'd probably have kissed that, too.

All this happened before I had ever kissed a girl. In fact it would almost be true, true enough for a fiction writer, anyhow, to say that once I started kissing girls, my activities with regard to bread and books lost some of their special excitement. But one never forgets one's first loves.
Bread and books: food for the body and food for the soul -- what could be more worthy of our respect, and even love?

It has always been a shock to me to meet people for whom books simply do not matter.

-- From "Imaginary Homelands."