Crumpled Chillies

Guavas are in season and I end up buying them in bulk. I tell myself I’ll eat them in time, while they’re still firm and just on the edge of ripening. The kind you slice and sprinkle with salt and red chilli powder. That first bite is crunchy, sharp, a little fiery, and always hits the spot. But guavas ripen quickly. One day they’re perfect, and the next they’re too soft for the salt and chilli. That’s when I run to my mom. She know the only way to make sure the fruit is not wasted is to turn it into a sabzi with a tangy, spicy, slightly sweet sauce to hold it together. It goes well with rotli or thepla. I am asked to wash and chop up the ripe guavas and set them aside. In a pan, as the oil heats, cumin seeds are sprinkled in with some hing. The goes in the ginger garlic pastes. After a minute the guavas are mixed in, followed by red chilli powder, turmeric, coriander-cumin powder, salt, and a little sugar or jaggery. Everything is gently tossed together and then covered for about f...

Winters in Bombay are almost a myth but what signals the season are the vegetable markets bustling with winter goodies — green garlic, yams, sweet potatoes, and my favourite, amlas, or Indian gooseberries. My mother would buy kilos of fresh amla and I would shriek with joy as we sat down to clean and sort the winter produce. I wasn’t interested in the cloth bags she brought from home, packed with vegetables. I was only after the amlas, rushing to bite into their sharp sourness. She would nudge me right away and say, wash them before you eat. So I gathered all the amlas into a container and washed them under the sink tap. I was taught only once how to handle amlas for preserving and I knew the steps perfectly. After each amla was washed carefully, I would let them dry on the windowsill. Then I grabbed a kitchen napkin and thoroughly wiped each amla dry. When they were all dried, I needed my mother again to find me an old glass jar. She would reach into the depths of the kitchen cabinets...