Closing the Pages of "Another World"

Over the past few months I have identified and grown closer to my Asian routes; it has been entertaining, educational, but above all something that I feel quite passionately about following the conversations I have had with my family. In analysing the literature of the cookbooks that Granny has left behind and researching the topics that arise from different food-stuffs, I feel it has brought me closer to knowing more about my Granny and made me more aware of issues which are imbedded in Asian culture.

The most important features of my blog are: the memories (however inaccurate) my Father has of Granny's cooking, the traditions and stereotypes that we inadvertently have about food and where they are sourced, and the different adaptions of  dishes depending on who you are, and where you are in the world. Unfortunately I have not been able to write individual posts on all the different dishes from around the world that my family cooks; by now you may imagine dining at the Beeley household is similar to being on an around-the-world-flight where each night is like stopping off and samply the cuisine of a major town or city, but I assure you that is not the case! My family has varied tastes and whilst my Mother is probably the best and cooking curries and making rice cakes, my eldest sister, Miranda, has perfected the English roast, and at the other end of the spectrum is me where my forte lies in baking and desserts! Possibly that's the reason why studying Eastern cuisine and vegetables has been so interesting to me.

I strongly recommend that those of you who are interested in the versatility of vegetables and the ethnic origins of dishes from the East purchase Madhur Jaffery's book Eastern Vegetarian Cooking (1983). It covers a wide range of basic cookery and even sample menus, from which you can create different combinations of multiple course dinners, and her recipes credit the countries that they derive from. I have grown a very stong attachment to this book, surprisingly not for the lists of recipes but the note on the inside of the front cover:

 

"To Dearest Vi, With Love, From Margaret." - 25/06/84

 

It is this note from my Great Auntie Margie that I envisage my Granny cooking from this book and I hear her speaking in the same tone as Jaffery, who concludes her introduction with the incentive that I started with:

 

"I hope this book will open up another world for you and that you will have as much fun with the recipes as I did." xii

 

...don't worry Madhur I did.

 



Food Stereotypes: Are you what you eat?

"It's bad luck to run out of rice"

 

 

In my very first blog post I mentioned Edward Said and his theory on Orientalism, the West's ongoing fascination with the East based upon romanticised images of it; in addition to the aforementioned Said identifies prejudices and maintains that the Western study of the East was for the purposes of imposing imperialist constraints, where the Westerner is supposed to know more about the Orient than the natives. This theory goes beyond literature and politics and effects the way we judge foreign foods; I have since then thought more about this and come to realise that there is a stereotypical nature that we have developed with a multitude of foods, not just from the East. For example, we associate meat with men and children with sweets. In regards to the East we mainly associate rice and spices with parts of Asia and the Middle East; in Eastern Vegetarian Cooking (1983) Madhur Jaffery begins her chapter 'Rice and Other Grains' by asserting this association:

 

Rice originated in Asia. Emotionally and nutritionally, Asians have depended upon it ever since for their sustenance. For many Asians, a meal without rice is quite inconceivable, and an invitation to dinner often translates as an invitation to 'eat rice'.

There is something about this soothing, ingratiating grain that is quite addictive. While it has character, fragrance, and texture, it does not obtrude. It seduces without ever having to exert itself.

But it has to be cooked well first. That is the reason I have devoted quite a few pages to basic methods of cooking long-grain rice, Japanese rice, glutinous rice, brown rice, and Persian-style rice. 134  

 

Jaffery's tone exudes the romanticised image that Said identifies in Western literature, and it is interesting that she should adopt this tone because, despite being a native Indian, she has since her late teens lived in Western society, thus she can (theoretically by Said's terms) be seen to be under the influence of Western influence. Having said this, she is not wrong - from personal experience rice is very important, even emotionally as she states. Although many modern Asian households vary their diet and don't eat it day in day out, there are traditions and even superstitions that arise from their ancestors dependance on it; for example my Mother has brought me up to believe that it is bad luck/ a bad sign when your rice supply runs low or completely out. Furthermore, the stereotype of Asian foods spans as far as the presentation of products, packaging and restaurants - customers expect all aspects of Asia to be colourful and fulfil their exotic fantasies by being overly ornate, to the extent that they become cheap imitations making 'authentic' culture a joke.

 

 

The assumption that Asians live off of rice is wrong and highlights an ignorance on behalf of those in the West that believe it, whilst some stereotypes are valid there is a blurring where it can now be percieved to be racist. As Said theorises in Orientalism (1978) Europe's dominance over Asia and it's rewriting of it's past from the assumption that they are collectively subaltern has instilled certain views of how it ought to be presented, earlier narratives of the East that remain unchanged and difficult to alter. Colonial literature and early literature on food has been unashamedly open about discrimination, depite heralding from a different time, we are now more acutely aware of the preoccupation of such branding.

 

Below I have included a list of links to articles based on sterotypes constructed through food:
Why is meat considered manly?

Do your food products have racist roots?

The Gendering of Food: You are what you eat!

 

Granny's 'Devil Chicken'

"You've got to find Granny's 'Devil Chicken'... Your Uncle Phillip would eat so much of it, he'd make himself sick!" - Craig William Beeley (my Father)

So far I have tempted you with stories about my heritage in relation to food, given you some insight in to the dishes that have withstood time and carried on being cooked throughout the generations, and introduced you to my late Granny Beeley; but of all the things worth mentioning to you about my Granny and eastern cooking, it is notably her 'Devil Chicken':

Granny's 'Devil Chicken' is one of those mysterious dishes that's bragged about, to the extent that you you can't help but be cynical and assume that the day you eventually do taste this amazing food, it will be an anticlimax from everything you had previously heard about it. Through out this assignment, whenever I've intermittently interviewed me Father about his memories of Granny's cooking he always raves about this dish; as far as he can tell me it concerns slowly cooking a chicken marinated in some sort of spiced mango glaze, and she'd serve it with mashed potato and green beans.
The recipe for this legendary dish has been something of a fickle obsession of mine, whilst I carelessly dismiss it whenever my Father brings it up in conversation, I secretly daydream about the ingredients and harbour a desire to try it, much like in Mapp and Lucia (1935) where Elizabeth Mapp is determined get Lucia's recipe for 'Lobster á la Riseholme’ but legitimately she can't. So, with Google at hand, I spent a good few hours searching this dish only to come across a recipe for 'Devil's Chutney', which is a simple condiment made of: onions, sugar, salt, sugar, and vinegar, this is commonly served as an accompaniment to coconut rice (so I've read). This research proved to be exactly what I had initially said to you about the anticlimax of some legendary dishes -
I told my Father about the 'Devil's Chutney' recipe and that I couldn't find a recipe for mango chicken, or a devil chicken, or chickens smothered in chutney, or any other description "...oh maybe that's it then..." He said. I have previously mentioned how my Father's memories of Granny's cooking are somewhat doubtful accounts, this possibly being the most disappointing one of all. I contacted my Uncle in an attempt to find out more, but alas all he could tell me was that "it was very good" and that he remembered the taste of "sweet chilli and mangoes".

Why is this story relevant I hear you say, if not at least mildly entertaining? This story serves as an example of the connection we make between food and memory; over time we cling to the thought of food as opposed to the reality of what it is and without a reciept of ingredients we can only ponder what we taste  - in this case, because 'Devil's Chicken' has never been cooked by anyone but Granny and no one can find the elusive recipe, my Father and Uncle have clung to their initial memories of it and made it out to be the Holy Grail of chicken dishes instead of seeing it for some simple chicken, in a marinade of something involving ketchup. Quite ironically, if you type "memory and food" in to Google search engine a number of links and scholarly articles are listed promoting foods that are supposed to improve your memory, which can be seen if you click on the link below. (Maybe my Father and Uncle should try a few of them!)

https://www.google.co.uk/#hl=en&sclient=psy-ab&q=memory+and+food&oq=memory+and+food&gs_l=hp.3..0j0i22i30l3.44459.47461.5.47627.15.12.0.3.3.0.233.1749.0j9j2.11.0...0.0...1c.1.8.psy-ab.S5SUk7vLqKE&pbx=1&bav=on.2,or.r_cp.r_qf.&bvm=bv.44770516,bs.1,d.d2k&fp=4224c9abb9e60957&biw=1366&bih=643

Homely Anglo-Indian food: Pish-Pash

 

Pish-Pash is a simple traditional Anglo-Indian dish that gets its name from the overcooked consistency of the rice, as though it were a rice porridge or a rice stew, this is normally given to children or those who are unwell because it is easy to digest and very nutritious. When I was very young, we used to be looked after by Granny for a few hours each week and, depending on the time of day, we would be given this to eat for lunch or dinner because it wasn't something that required much effort and it was something which my Father and Uncle would be given when they were young and living in India.
Some contemporary recipes for this dish include dhal, which is made from lentils, but the way it Granny always made it using: rice, milk, chicken or lamb, potatoes, cauliflower and maybe some carrot. There are mixed reviews about this dish within my family, whilst my Father and brothers love it for its place as a comfort food, my eldest sister, Miranda, hates it for its likeness to baby food (apparently), I recall liking it very much when I was young but as I have grown up this dish has barely been made and lost its place as a family favourite.
Despite this, my Father does mention it from time to time in a bid to get it made, but I feel it has been replaced by an alternate dish, very similar in terms of ingredients. My comfort food is a clear chicken soup that my Mother makes and serves with rice - for a number of winters my Mother cuts up a whole chicken (or cooks several drumsticks) in a pot filled with chicken stock and whole, peeled carrots and potatoes. She lets this simmer for several hours without stirring, but checking on the heat in regular intervals to make sure that it isn't sticking to the pan or boiling over. After about 3 or 4 hours you have a rich, clarified soup with the most tender pieces of chicken falling off the bone, and soft vegetables that you can cut with a spoon! This is served over separately boiled rice with a ladleful of the clear soup. I'd like to think of this as my mother's take on a more bearable version of pish-pash!

A Classic: Pinakbet

Pinakbet is a dish native to the Philippines, a dish that I despised as a young girl for the incorporation of aubergines, okra and bitter melon, which if were to be left out, wouldn't be an authentic pinakbet at all. In all honesty I was a "lazy eater" as a child (as my family remind me all too often) and there were few dishes that I would willingly eat, making dinner an stressful meal time where I would sit with my siblings and typically not be permitted to leave the table till I had finished everything on my plate. Rather regretably I was picky and sought to dispose and conceal all food items that I could without getting in to trouble. I would disect meals, pretend to fall asleep with cheeks stuffed with rice or potato, and hide strange vegetables in tissue before throwing them in the bin. The irony is that I was always found out and forced to eat the food I then loathed or served another punishment like no dessert, but what I now realise about what I had previously dreamed of - that I could throw away food and never have to eat them again -  is that there is no escaping classic/ popular dishes because you they are exactly that! They never cease to me made, or enjoyed, or forgotten because they are entrenched in a culture.
In Eastern Vegetarian Cooking (1983) Jafferey includes a variation of the recipe and a little background on it's origins:

PINAKBET
(Mixed Vegetable Stew with Aubergine and Long Beans)
Philippines

(serves 6)

 

This popular Filipino stew, eaten in the president's palace as well as in the poorest homes, consists of aubergine, long beans (also called asparagus beans, the kind that are about a foot long and are found in Indian Chinese grocery stores), okra, fresh broad beans, and bitter gourd, all stewed quickly with onions, garlic, and tomatoes. In the Philippines, a salty fish past provides the final flavouring, but I have left that out and substituted a little soy sauce instead. The Filipinos use the slip, 6-in/15cm-long, pinkish perple aubergines that are found in many Oriental grocery stores. On the West Coast of America, I have heard them referred to as 'Japanese' aubergines. If you cannot find them, use slim white aubergines, or small Italian aubergines. If none of the above can be found, use the familiar-sized oval aubergines cut into 1-in/2.5-cm-thick and 2.5-in/6.5-cm-long 'fingers'. They may disintegrate a bit but the taste of of the dish will not be greatly changed. You may easily substitute ordinary green beans for the long beans and frozen large broad beans for the fresh kind. If you cannot find better gourd, leave it out, though that would really be a pity. That slight bitterness gives pinakbet its special kick.

About half of a 6-oz/180-g bitter gourd
3/4lb/340-g slim aubergines
1.25-1.5-tsp salt
8-10 whole okra
16 long beans of 5 oz/14-g green beans
2 fl oz/1/2 dl vegetable oil
4 five-pence-piece sized slices of fresh ginger
2 cloves garlic, peeled and cut into slivers
1 medium-sized onion, peeled and chopped
1.25 lb/560g ripe tomatoes, chopped
4tsp Japanese soy sauce
3/4lb/340g fresh or frozen broad beans*
*If the broad beans are frozen, leave at room temperature until you can  separate them.

Cut the half bitter gourd in half lengthwise, and remove all the seeds. Cut the halves into strips with 1/4tsp salt and then stand them up in a bowl for 20 to 30 minutes. Rinse the strips.
   Trim away the stem end of the aubergines and cut them into 2-3-in/5-8-cm lengths. You should now have tube-like pieces. The Filipinos cut gashes at both ends of the tubes this way: hold the tube so it is standing on one end. Make a lengthwise cut down the centre but stop when you reach about halfway. Stand the tube on its other end. Give the tube a quater turn and make another lengthwise cut down the centre again stiopping about halfway. Your gashes should resemble a cross, with one side of the cross at one end of the tube and the other at the other end. The two gashes should never meet.
   Trim away the okra caps and points. Cut the gashes on it just as you did for the aubergine.
   Trim away the ends of the long beans and cut them into 3-in/8-cm lengths.
   Heat the oil in a 4-qt/4.5-l pot over a medium-high flame. When hot, put in the ginger, garlic, and onion. Stir and fry for about 2 minutes. Add the tomatoes. Stir and cook for 4 to 5 minutes or until tomatoes have softened. Turn the heat down a bit, if necessary. Add 16 fl oz/ 1/2l water, the soy sauce, 1 tsp salt, the bitter gourd, aubergine, okra, long beans, and broad beans. Stir. Cook for 15 to 20 minutes on medium to medium-low heat. You should keep the pot at a vigorous simmer. Stir the vegetables gently throughout the cooking period (the Filipinos prefer to shake the pot and toss the vegetables every now and then). The liquid should reduce and become thick and all the vegetables should be tender. Check the salt. Add more if you need it. Remove the pieces of ginger.

In contrast to Jaffery's vegetarian version of this dish it is commonly cooked with salty meat, such as bacon or gammon, and my family being big on meat could not bear to be without it especially in this dish. My mother cooks it the Illocano way with meat, where you put all the ingredients in to the pot at once and cook slowly, she isn't particular about the type of aubergine or where you get the beans from either.A packet of vine beans are generally the same and she uses tinned tomatoes, and she always says "Keep an eye on it, make sure it doesn't stick to the pan, but don't stir it!" No, you couldn't stir it because you'd risk breaking down the meat and vegetables and end up serving a pulp on top of rice that I certainly wouldn't have eaten as a child, let alone any adult.
To this day my mother still cooks it as well as my older sisters and I have grown to like eating it (minus the bitter melon!)

Some Short Stories: Farming, Jam and Tea

As many food writers illustrate, dining (and meal times) are more than part of a daily routine, and as I have observed over the years, it is is an important social opportunity for people to come together. In my family it's not only an opportunity to gabble about the day but to reminisce and tell stories as well; here are a selection of the most interesting and repeatedly told stories that I remember about my family in relation to food:

The Tea Plantation
Not many people have 'tea time' as a meal time of its own, but my family have been loyal to this tradition all my life. This story is frequently told by my Father whenever he hears my sister or my Mother go on about herbal teas, and it was at 'tea time' where I first heard this story:
According to my Father my Great Grandfather, who served in the army as a senior warrant officer, owned an assam tea plantation in Asansol,India, supplying Liptons red label tea, until the tea plantations were nationalised by the Indian government following the country's independance from the British Empire in the 1950's. As far as my father can recall, Great Grandfather bought the plantation with his demobilisation money having served thirty years with the army from childhood.
Whenever I see "assam tea" on a cafe menu or down the coffee and tea aisle at Tesco I always think of this story!

The Family Farm
My Mother comes from an agricultural background, which I didn't realise until a few years ago when I enquired about what her releatives did (career wise) when I was trying to find a job myself. Her father was a respected farmer who owned a considerable amount of land in the Tarlac province of Luzon, the Philippines. The land was used to farm rice and sugar cane, which they rotated farming with the seasons. I had initially thought that they had an animal farm because there was a lot of talk of having pigs, but it turns out nearly everyone in the Philippines has a pig! Though farming may not seem like much the amount of land that my Grandfather owned ensured that his family were one of the 'well-off' families in their village.
Some of my relatives in the Philippines still farm rice but many of them have moved in to more modern jobs and have moved to the cities. The withstanding connection I have to rice and the Philippines is the way in which my Mother taught me to cook rice and measure the amount of water using my fingers - a technique that all Filipinos know!

Great Grandmother Dotty and her sisters
Another story that my Father still speaks of, his version of this is a bit dubious but nonetheless he seems very sure of it!:
Apparently my Great Grandmother Dorothy Austen-Pickering (Dotty) and her sisters were well-known in their local area for their delicious cakes and condiments. Dotty and her sisters were Anglo-Indian, the daughters of a British officer and a local Indian girl they grew up in an army children's home, Southern India (possibly Madras/ Chennai but dad isn't quite sure). Dotty was the youngest of her siblings and they started their little venture when she was in her late teens; together they made cakes, jams and a special tomato ketchup to supplement the army widows pension left to their mother.
Dad likes to go on about cakes recipes with white pumpkin in whenever I ask about her, but like some of his other memories about food, I question whether it is white pumpkin that he's trying to remember!

What I like about all these stories whether they be whole truths or only part is the oral exchange of recipes and stories, the idea that the things I do today are connected to what a great relative bought or started years ago.