In Praise Of.....Sesame Oil

Given the pervasiveness of sesame oil in Tamil domestic life, my love affair with the oil was perhaps inevitable. Though I sadly note that with the arrival of newer oils, the role of sesame oil in daily life has reduced to the point that often it's only use is in the “gunpowder” that accompanies idli-dosai.

Not too long back, before the arrival of “neutral” and light varieties in the country, cooking oil in India was regional….and strongly flavoured. Be it groundnut, mustard, sesame or coconut oil, these oils had strong personalities and given the Indian habit of slathering internals and externals with oil were also olfactory indicators of region of origin. Though coconut oil is used in Tamil Nadu, sesame seemed to be more predominant at our place. In fact we used it even during our weekly oil bath, in the face of what appeared to be an army of advertisers attempting to strongly link coconut oil to beauty in India. Running around in the sun smelling of sesame oil before a cold water bath can be quite a happy feeling.

My mother, in keeping with the times, didn’t always use sesame oil when cooking. We knew enough people, sadly including Tamilians, who didn’t like it’s flavour which ruled out its daily use. Though I too don’t use it when other people are around, when I cook for myself I use no other oil. Even when I can’t be bothered cooking, I have my rice with salt and some sesame oil (along with some ginger pickle – but I will leave ginger for another post). No meal is more simple, cleansing and delicious.

Unfortunately, it is not always easy to get sesame oil here. Often even the Indian stores stock Chinese sesame oil, which is distinctly darker and has a roasted flavour. Last month I located a supply and have been gorging on the stuff. Right now I am frying potatoes in sesame oil and the aroma is, to put it mildly, quite heavenly. In fact I felt such a sudden rush of love for the oil that I felt obliged to make it public. Of course the fact that alone of all traditional oils it boasts many health benefits (perhaps the reason it’s known as nalla ennai in Tamil Nadu) grounds my infatuation in good sense .

I used to make my own hair oil when I lived in India, the ingredients were a mix of my grandmother’s suggestions and my own ideas. I attribute the general good health of my hair to it’s wonderful properties. Sadly it has not been easy to make here as one or the other ingredient is missing (most notably the champa). I am quite sure my greying sparser hair is not just ageing but a result of sad follicles starved of my concoction. Here it is:

One small iron karahi (wok).
Sesame Oil (or it’s more evocative name, gingelly oil)
A handful of red hibiscus flowers, hibiscus leaves, curry leaves, pepper, jeera, fenugreek and dried champa flowers.
And to make Anu’s Oil, heat oil to smoking in karahi, chuck in all ingredients and "cook" till all of it is charred. Cool and filter. Be warned, if the flowers are fresh the oil can crackle. Some of the ingredients darken hair (most notably hibiscus and curry leaves), some provide cooling properties (jeera). The end oil is quite viscous and quite difficult to remove completely from hair with shampoo so it can leave you with that slicked down, old fashioned look ☺ But it will leave tresses thick and black and leave you feeling like the pretty women of old Tamil movies with long, lustrous locks - you know the kind poets would compare to a black cloud.

In Praise Of........Jacarandas

We are a fair way from the beginning of summer, at the moment it is only the wattle that is in bloom colouring the landscape a distinct Australian green and gold. But there is no better time to think of the coming of summer and the brief blooming of jacarandas.

Jacarandas are fairly common in the cities I have lived in here. With their green leaves and mauve, papery blossoms they add a touch of coolness to the summer. For a brief while, the blossoms, the seed pods and leaves float and drift through the landscape and collect on pavements, the flowers staining them a faded purple. For the rest of the year, the feathery pinnate green leaves, similar but brighter than that of the tamarind remain except for a brief spell in winter.

In Brisbane, you cannot escape jacarandas and they are almost emblematic of the city. In November, if you were to be at the Mt. Coot-Tha Botanical Gardens, the city spread below looks like it has been carpet bombed with the distinct mauve/violet tones of jacaranda. They are particularly prevalent at the University of Queensland and there are a host of exam superstitions associated with it given the time of flowering. In Sydney, there were a fair few at Killara where I briefly lived and they mingled with other violet blossoms like the agapanthus that flowered at the same time. The picture above is a watercolour version of a photograph taken in the suburb.

In India they bloom everywhere, particularly in the drier parts like Delhi. In my memory, they are not the large spreading trees here but more delicate and less leafy in nature and to my child's mind they looked like the bluebells of Blyton books. In fact jacarandas still remind me of the intense heat of Delhi afternoons. The kind of heat where people sleep through the afternoon and circles of damp form on the pillow (if one were to employ Marquez speak). But the blooms are too delicate for the Indian temperament, they are often drowned out by the brighter colours of amaltas, gulmohurs, copperpods and palash that flower approximately at the same time.

The blooming of jacarandas does not appear to warrant a ceremony like cherry blossom viewing even though its flowering is as romantic and ephemeral. This time around I plan to take along some lavender tea (to maintain the violet theme) and have my own little reading ceremony under a suitable tree.

In Praise Of.....Insects

The cockroaches have departed for the winter. And it is not yet the season for bogong moths, the only other insects that make their way to my high rise apartment. So I am having an insect free existence at the moment.

The cockroaches came from Brisbane. In Brisbane, they proliferated in the long, hot and wet summer. Brisbane cockroaches are different; they are small, brown, numerous and fly through windows. They don’t lay sacs, merely minute black eggs that are impossible to eradicate. Faced with an invasion, I tried everything from sage to boric acid to supermarket chemicals and kept it under some kind of control. I cleaned and packed each item before leaving. But they did arrive in Sydney, by way of a few eggs in an unreachable light fixture in the microwave. Clever. In the summer, they multiplied but not in any great proportion. Now they, like parts of the population, appear to have departed to warmer climes.

Apart from one occasion when a mouse traveling over my foot resulted in a ladylike scream, I am highly tolerant of most domestic animal and insect forms. Until I went to Brisbane and faced a cockroach plague I had rarely stamped on one; there, I regret to say, I took to stamping them out with some zeal. And because I loathe mechanical and chemical traps, it is not just roaches that have inhabited my house over the years. Still, the zenith of living with animals and insects remains Brisbane where everything from possums to ants lived in my large wrap around verandah. I didn’t mind them one bit and they didn’t mind me either. Apart from the roaches, let’s just say we resided in comfort without disturbing each other’s business.

To have insects roaming at free will in the house can seem a dereliction of domestic duties. People are always calling in pest control on sighting just the one and by definition cleanliness is the absence of insect life. Such an open confession to harbouring insects can therefore be like confessing to bad breath for example and equally detrimental to one’s social standing. Still, I admire their ingenuity. And I admire roaches most of all - their non-stop energy, late night partying, their fuck you to every attempt to control them – indeed one suspects that insecticides are their drug of choice. Yes I stamp on them when they start taking my generosity for granted but I admire them enough to have once penned a poem on them.

I am not sure when eradicating insect life became so important; is it those Baygon ads? Yes you don’t want locusts eating the crops or termites burrowing their way through the foundation of your house or leeches feasting on self (unless you are Demi Moore). But for the most part, domestic life forms are hardly bothersome. When I was growing up it was commonplace to spot centipedes, millipedes, frogs, snails, lizards, spiders and even the odd snake without anyone being unduly bothered. Now there is no everyday natural world to observe because we are so busy stamping it out. Instead we go to zoos to see exotic or “cute” species worthy of our attention and take our children along for good measure.

For the moment, things are quiet around my house. As the weather warms, a few insects will return. Mindful of my social obligations, I will keep them under control. But to the few roaches and moths around, I shall wish good health and cheer.