Happy Friday, Love!!!
How the heck are you? What have you been eating?
As for me, I’ve been filling up on nostalgia and self-doubt. It was a rough week and I delved into a deep hole of re-watching the entire seven seasons of The West Wing and contemplating my life choices. Made some decent meals and fell down memory lane.
All of the nostalgia of the week sent me on a trip into my pre-RECIPE’D archives. When I started, RECIPE’D was the sum total of a few stories about food memories and family recipes that I posted on Medium.com. In the archives, I found this story about my Indian grandmother’s Dhal that quite frankly I’d forgotten I wrote. Upon rereading it, I thought you’d enjoy both the story and the recipe.
So let’s flashback, waaay back!
Dhal-icious: A Meal by My Dead Indian Grandma
This story was originally published on April 22nd, 2019.
I remember walking through East NY, Brooklyn with my father on one of the rare occasions when he’d turned up for his weekend visitation. My sister must’ve been there too but somehow I cannot picture her in my mind’s eye.
We stopped for a moment and I asked him…
What are you?
He puffed out his chest and said: “I’m Black!”
I was confused because I knew full well that my father was a Dougla (half African, half East Indian).
“What about Iris?” — That was his full-blooded Madras Indian mother.
She’s dead!
He didn’t even slow his stride. He just kept walking as though this denial of his mother was a casual thing. Perhaps, it was, for him.
They are both dead now. She died just after my sister and I turned six months old. He died just after my daughter’s first birthday.
Memories don’t live like people do, they always remember you
Iris was far from dead in my mother’s home and definitely not in her kitchen.
My parents met when my mother was sixteen. Her own mother had moved from Trinidad to America to make a better life five years prior. She was being looked after by her siblings. My father came from an even bigger family than my mother with her seven siblings. He was one of eleven and both of his parents were present in the home. I’ve never been quite clear about how all of their children grew up to be criminals and juvenile delinquents.
My grandfather owned his own sign painting business but was a notorious gambler and Iris sold weed on the side to make ends meet.
However, unconventional she was a motherly figure when my mother needed one most. They took to each other like a moth to a flame. My mother was not as dismissive or disrespectful toward her future in-laws as their own rebellious children. I am almost certain that this played a major role in the tight bond forged between my mother and Iris.
My grandmother would give my mother money to go to the city center to run her errands (pay bills, buy groceries, etc.). My mother always did as asked and returned any change to Ma as she called her.
Their relationship was the source of much ire and resentment from my father’s sisters. My grandmother was accused of taking out her belly and putting in straw. She often referred to my mom as her own daughter.
Bonds unbroken
She learned to make the three popular types of roti (Dhalpuri, Paratha (buss up shut), Sada), split pea dhal, all manner of curries and chutneys.
My mother who had been cooking since the age of twelve picked up the recipes and techniques quite easily.
When she made these dishes for us, they were usually accompanied by some story about Iris. It was as if she was paying homage to their bond each time she cooked something that grew out of those days together.
It was also her way of helping us to connect to our paternal lineage.
It was in one such moment that we learned that Iris was disowned by her family for marrying Malcolm — a black man — our grandfather.
A taste of history
I often wonder how and when Iris might’ve cooked these meals for her brood but I remember clearly when my mom did — on Saturdays, sick days, and cold wintry ones.
One of my favorite meals is Dhal, Bhagi, white rice, and saltfish.
I’ve already covered most of the elements of this meal in Sometimes, Less is More but Dhal is so nice, it needed its own post.
All for me, none for you
I don’t remember the first time I made dhal. I’m fairly sure I lived alone then, it’s the type of dish that I don’t like to share but luckily the ingredients are always on hand in my pantry.
Ingredients for Iris’ Dhal
1 pkg of dried yellow split peas
1 onion
1 head of garlic
A pack of ground jeera (cumin)
Trini green seasoning
1 scotch bonnet pepper
1 tbsp of vegetable oil
Salt to taste
First things first, I rinse my split peas thoroughly and then submerge them in a large pot of water.
To the pot, I add a scotch bonnet, two smashed garlic cloves, and a couple of spoons of green seasoning. I never add salt at this point because it delays the softening of peas. Then I put the pot on a medium fire until the peas start to melt.
When I can smash the peas with the back of a wooden spoon, I remove them from the fire and blend until smooth. This job would be ten times easier with an immersion hand blender, but I have a regular old pulse blender and it works just fine.
Once the mixture is smooth, I return it to a low fire and add salt to taste. I leave it to simmer. If I stopped here, I’d have a nice soup base or delicious stewed split peas but NOT Dhal.
The integral step in turning this dish into a traditional Trini dhal is to chunkay it.
The process of chunkaying is literally to add hot seasoned oil.
In a separate pan, I add two capfuls of vegetable, canola, or soybean oil and heat it on a low fire. While the oil heats up, I slice up 3–5 large cloves of garlic or more…I REALLY love garlic. This is done to taste, so if a person — you — aren’t a huge garlic fanatic you can do one or two large cloves.
I then add the garlic slices and a tablespoon of jeera (cumin) to the hot oil and allow them to brown and become coated with the spice. I keep my fire low because I want the garlic to brown and not to burn. When the slices match the color of the ground jeera, I turn off the fire on the dhal pot and add all of the hot oil mixture and the garlic to the dhal, stirring gently until its all incorporated.
Boom! A Dhalicious meal fit for royalty or at least for Iris’ grandkids!
All for the eating
When I make a pot of dhal — and I’ve noticed this of my sister, too — it’s lunch, breakfast, dinner, and snacks in between. By itself, over rice or provision with bhagi or without, it's a meal.
In East Indian culture, there are several varieties of dhal that use different types of peas based on regional tastes and recipes. I have recently experimented with using red and green lentils, a mixture of both with my split peas.
If I’m honest though, in my opinion, nothing compares to the traditional Trini dhal that Iris passed down to my mom.
I love to have a cup of warm dhal to start my day, it’s a hug in your belly. Especially because I start my days at around 4a, a hot cup of something is always a plus but what makes it really nice is the stories I’ve attached to it.
I imagine my mom and Iris sitting and sipping this elixir after an early morning market trip.
I see them sitting at Iris’ kitchen table and chatting about her missing jewelry that Malcolm undoubtedly pawned to fund his gambling habit. Better yet, how Iris had rummaged through his pockets and found enough money to reclaim the jewelry that went missing the week before. I can almost hear them plotting to act as though they have no idea what he’s talking about if he has the audacity to ask about his missing money.
I feel closer to my dead Indian grandmother in those moments. I wonder if she and her son have made amends wherever they are.
Whew! That was an oldie but a goodie! And a long one, but I hope an enjoyable one for you! If you liked, loved, hated and/or despised this issue, do yourself a favor and share it because all things food are better with company!
Whether you are having a great week or a challenging one, remember you deserve comfort—if that comes in a family recipe, a chat with a friend, or sheer willpower—seek it out and embrace it!
Until we meet again,
XOXO,
Mel
Support Our Content Creation:
Cashapp: $mamltd
Zelle: Melissa@agitate-media.com
Follow RECIPE’D on:
Instagram:@reciped_sub
Facebook: @foodandfoodstories