By Caitlin Coe
By popular demand from our subscribers,
we are proud to present the first installment of "The Readable
Feast," a monthly column written by Borders' own roster of resident
foodies. Each month, we'll introduce you to you one of our favorite
titles, explain why we love it, and why we think you will, too. This
month, Borders's Caitlin Coe offers her perspective
on the new narrative Climbing
the Mango Trees by Madhur Jaffrey. 
If you are at all interested in the wonderful
world of food and cooking (which clearly you are since you're
sharing your time with me here), you're aware that the genre
of the year is the narrative: those sometimes whimsical, very
personal, and often surprisingly frank looks behind the scenes
of our favorite chefs' kitchens.
A few notable titles that come to mind are Heat by Bill
Buford (who doesn't love hilarious stories of Mario
Batali's rather, um, "blue" commentary
on particularly picky guests?) and Anthony Bourdain's The
Nasty Bits. Then came The
United States of Arugula, David Kamp's
exploration of American gourmet tastes, which finally allowed
us "foodies" to stand proud and proclaim that,
yes, we really do prefer yellowtail sashimi and Kobe steaks
to fish fingers and fast-food burgers.
And now, thanks to Madhur Jaffrey, a new narrative has gotten my taste buds
all a-flutter: Climbing the Mango Trees.
What are generally most enjoyable to me in narratives are those stories that
are either completely unique or extremely familiar. Jaffrey manages to capture
both. Common events—going to a new school, learning to swim, even getting
the chicken pox—are interlaced with the influences of amazing food while
growing up in the Indian cities of Kanpur and Dehli. She offers a personal
perspective on a delectable cuisine that was considered an exotic oddity as
recently as 50 years ago, and is now considered a common option for take-out—especially
around my house!
From her first days as a child, food was a part of Jaffrey's soul—the
name Madhur even means "sweet as honey." And while many American
children were basking in the gloriousness that is the peanut butter and jelly
sandwich, Jaffrey was offered fare a bit more challenging for the palate. Dishes
such as urad dal (prickly okra with split peas) and rogan gosh (goat with cardamom),
were among her favorites, and she describes them with richness, fondness and
enthusiasm.
As a child growing up in Los Angeles, for me visiting family or friends meant
being treated to various takes on barbecue, the ever-popular roasted turkey,
or 84 different kinds of salad. The word "brunch" clearly led to
omelets and bacon. Jaffrey, on the other hand, experienced her aunt's "monsoon
mushrooms," rare and delicate mushrooms that grow only during monsoon
season and are cooked to perfection with a simple combination of local spices
over a charcoal fire. Sundays were reserved for pullao, a type of rice dish
reminiscent of risotto, but featuring a meat stock rich with cumin, cinnamon,
cardamom, cloves, bay leaves, fennel seeds, black peppercorns, coriander, ginger,
and onion. And perhaps best of all, Jaffrey's sweet tooth demands that she
describe in yummy detail her favorite Indian desserts. Personally, while I've
never passed up the offer of a good apple pie, I could bathe in the cardamom-infused
rice pudding dish kheer, and was rather tickled to know that without such milky
treats, "India would just wither away."
Climbing the Mango Trees is a culinary journey in the best sense of the phrase;
we are left with a true understanding of what an Indian childhood was like,
and a deeper appreciation for the food that clearly played such a huge role
in Jaffrey's upbringing. Indeed, through her eyes, we are forced to think about
and appreciate what foods played such a role in our own childhoods. Preferably
while dining on a lovely plate of saag paneer. |
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