In India, "chai" just refers to tea (always served with plenty of milk and sugar), whereas "masala chai" is the chai we think of in the US, spiced with cardamom, cinnamon, anise, etc. Recently a friend gave me a pod of cardamom and told me to chew the little round seeds inside before taking a sip of chai. I did and the tea had the most fantastically fresh and spicy, almost minty taste.
A few weeks ago, Martin and I were hiking through some tiny village and stopped for a cup of roadside chai, brewed on the spot. As we were drinking it, Martin asked, "Did you see how much sugar he put in this?" I answered, "Yes, and do you taste how NOT sweet it is compared to most chai here? Imagine how much sugar is normally in it!" If you look at the pictures I've linked to on Martin's blog, you'll see the place where we got the full-of-sugar but not-so-sweet chai.
At home I always carry a refillable water bottle. Here in India I don't, unfortunately, because I rarely have access to safe water to refill it. Whenever I do, I just refill a disposable bottle. While I was staying at Amma's ashram, I realized what I should be carrying is a reusable CHAI cup! Restaurants and most roadside chai-wallahs serve you in a glass glass, but not on trains... it's little paper or plastic cups that get tossed out the window. When I've finished my chai and am sitting there holding the empty cup-- because there are no garbage cans-- more than once I've had it plucked from my hand and flung in the gutter or along the tracks with the rallying cry "It's India!" I always object. Now I hand the chai-wallah my nifty second-hand, stainless steel cup and they fill it up. Most don't even give it a second look. I wondered if they would find it weird, like most of the cashiers in Bradenton did when I moved home and brought along my canvas grocery bags. It's really cool how in a few years the attitude has changed and all the registers have reusable bags for sale!
Some of the hotels... er, I mean, restaurants in India serve "Chinese" food, but, creative spellers that they are, the signs always read "Chinees" or "Chinease" or "Chiness". Only once have we seen it spelled correctly, on a street vendors cart (Chinatown Chinese). Once I spotted a sign that said "Chainese" and, incredulous, asked Martin, "How did they get an A in there? I know they never spell it correctly, but an A???" He pointed out that here the pronunciation makes perfect sense: chai-nese.
The top three best cups of chai I've had in India: Crown Family Restaurant in Palakhad (when we went to see my Kathakali teacher perform); a tiny roadside stall with a sweet old man and lady, Martin and I were hiking between villages so I am not even sure where we were; the Vegetarian Refreshment Room at the Kozhikode train station (in my reusable cup!).
The coolest cup of chai I've had in India was made with green tea, coconut milk, fresh ginger, and jaggery (a natural sweetener made from dried palm sap). If you're reading carefully, I bet you can figure out who made it.
I think I may be addicted to chai, Indian style. My favorite chai still tastes more strongly of black tea than of sugar, but the longer I'm here, the sweeter I like it....
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I love the last sentence of this post. Its hard to live a life of privation and sweet yummy things can make a person oh so happy. I had this funny moment the other day when I saw my reflection in the mirror in spin class. The spin classroom is right downstairs from the cafeteria kitchen where a number of rather rotund people work and eat. As I was making myself crazy sweating on the spin bike, the cooks walked back and forth. I could see their reflections in the mirror as they eat their burgers and made fries. If you've never tried spinning next to a grill you should know that it is hard, real hard. More than once I've wanted to pry myself off the bike and dive into a vat of ketchup. The worst part is that they are the ones who are happy and smiling and I've got a horrible grimace on my face because the work out hurts so much. So I ask myself why? Am I more virtuous for sweating rather than enjoying a burger and rounding out my hips? Does this make me a better person? A tongue dancing to the flavor of ice cream has as much music in it as the average spin class.
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