Turmeric-Leaf Sweets
A Grateful Heart, day 21
It is in November that new turmeric roots are sold in our shops. That’s when they are harvested, and the first crop of them, before they are sun-dried, are golden brown and filled with goodness of all kinds.
Wash and peel them, then cut, or grate them. In a clean glass jar or bottle, combine these with lemon juice and/ or pieces of lemon. If required, slit intensely spicy and skinny green chilies length-wise from tip to stalk, and put them in, too. Add salt to taste. Your winter dose of immunity is ready.
Each of these tubers has a little point, which is the beginning of a prospective root. Cut off a small bit, along with the protuberance, and plant it in a pot. Take care of it. It needs both sun and shade. It also needs a lot of water. It is a very hungry plant. When the leaves emerge, rub a bit of it, between your fingers and smell it. It is mild, subtle, but intense like any good perfume should be. When the morning breezes and nighttime winds blow, there is a fragrance of distilled turmeric wafting in the air. Breathe it in. Touch the leaf. Sniff it. Forget, for a while, if you will, who you are, and where, and try and be part of the elements.
When I have about ten turmeric leaves, I cut them close to their stalk, wash them well, wipe them dry and keep them aside. I make a dough of rice powder, mixed with a tiny pinch of salt and a tiny pinch of powdered cumin seeds. Then I mix together jaggery powder and freshly grated coconut. I take the leaf and spread a layer of rice paste, then cover it with a layer of jaggery powder, and another of grated coconut. I fold it. I prepare ten of these, and I steam cook them.
Within five seconds the aroma that wafts from the cooker fills the kitchen. It is the smell of jaggery and cumin, coconut and rice: and overlaying all those, like the haunting cry of a cuckoo in woodland, is the faint whiff of fresh turmeric, growing stronger and stronger.
In ten minutes, my healthy sweet, created out of the season’s bouquet, is ready to be consumed.
And every one of my senses is completely engaged in savouring it.
I try not to take these small things for granted: hunger and thirst, love and good food, and the company of someone who will eat what I cook with every evidence of enjoyment.
And my soul is awash with gratitude.
This is a response to the monthly prompt for the month of November, initiated by Ravyne Hawke, for her beautiful publication, Promptly Written. Today is Day 21.
