(Susan Pachikara COPYRIGHT 2011)
We slipped out of the rickshaw and into a zig-zag of commerce being carried out of storefronts, off carts and curbsides. A lemon vendor gave way to a man selling fresh fish. A purveyor of coconuts segued into a woman peddling bananas. We passed concord grapes with skin that rivaled fine velvet and sunset yellow papayas. Hawkers beckoned us to try their lanky beans, which sat within eyesight of ruddy tomatoes and pineapples topped with fountains of green.
The Portuguese who were the first to find a sea route to India brought much of this bounty. Their most pivotal contribution to India, and other parts of Asia, was the introduction of the chili. The spice is so integral to everyday Kerala cooking that nearly every family has a hot pepper plant (and when I was charting out my plot in the community garden, miles away, my mom insisted that I plant hot peppers, which I did.) At the market, we saw an array of chili – red, green, fat, lean.
(Susan Pachikara COPYRIGHT 2011)
As we navigated the bustling market, Iyshakochamma continued sleuthing for the meen chutty. Each vendor directed us to walk a bit further. About an hour into our search, we came to a narrow alleyway. An elderly woman in a faded cotton sari stood in a doorway. Around her feet, sat an army of clay red and charcoal black meen chutties, their straight sides giving way to a slightly rounded bottom. These pots conduct heat more evenly than their aluminum counterparts and are ideal for gently cooking fish. The woman turned over my selection, and tapped the bottom, testing its craftsmanship in front of us. She handed me the pot shrouded in newspaper and we headed home.