Fish, Jackfruit And Ice Apple (Nungu)

Summer holidays remind me of the hot sun beating down on my head while I played outside when the rest of the world would be taking shelter from the heat. I would wake up without having to be prodded, take a bath, and escape before my parents assigned me tasks. And then I would be out of their sight until it was time for dinner or a quick bite for lunch.

This would be a usual holiday routine except when we visited my grandma (aaya) on my mom's side. We lived in Delhi, and we would take a train GT, also known as Grand Trunk Express, to Chennai. It is a long trip taking about 35 hrs 15 mins to reach from its source to the destination.

My aaya lived in a small town called Tanjore in a one-room apartment which housed her and one of my aunts. My family and them would crowd into that one-room apartment. Looking back, I wonder how we managed, but it was a highlight at that time. My aaya had so many boxes and tins that I could explore. She also had old calendars that I could rip off and let my imagination fly as a kid. She always made sweets and snacks that I enjoyed in advance.

The best thing about the visit was the food. My aaya was an excellent cook, and being the only grandchild then, she would cook everything I liked. One of my favourite dishes was the fish fry. And I remember accompanying my aaya to the fish market, which was an exciting and scary trip at the same time. I would hold onto her hand tightly and embrace all the fishy smells and noises. As a child, the fishes would be at my level, and it was frightening to look at them lying dead - it was as if they were intently staring at me. My aaya would haggle for the price, examine the fish for freshness by poking, and we would make our way back once she was satisfied.

Once we got home, I would sit on a red brick outside our flat while my aaya descaled the fish. Then I followed her into the kitchen, where she cut the fish, marinated, and fried it. And she had this special blue tin tiffin box for storing fish, so only one dish smelled of fish. She would take the fresh pieces out, take the bones out of them and give them to me. I would gorge on them until I couldn't move anymore. I remember my uncle teasing me that if I weren't careful and swallowed a bone - the fish would start growing in my stomach. Even though I laughed it off, I always had the thought in the back of my mind of what if it turned out to be true. Aaya would store in the tiffin box, and I would enjoy for it a couple more days.

Summer in India is also the fruit season, especially jackfruit and nungu (Ice apples). Jackfruit is a fantastic fruit, if you weren't aware - when they are fully ripe, they are huge. You can eat the yellow fruits and make curry out of the seeds. You can also scrape the meat inside jackfruit to make a curry. The only issue is picking the yellow fruits from the flesh is a pain as it is sticky. My aaya had the patience to sit down, use oil, and take the fruits from the flesh. And all this while I sat next to her, she would give me one or two fruits after taking the seeds off. I remember my mom and aunts complaining about the special treatment I got. My aaya was a woman of few words, and she ignored those comments and never stopped pampering me even after I wasn't a child anymore.

Last but not least is nungu which is called ice apple in English. They are found in south India and are good for digestion, and are a natural coolant. It gets rid of toxins and helps maintain the body's natural temperature. We would have one of our known contacts bring them over and cut them at our flat so that we could eat them fresh. They are delicious but a pain to eat - you have to put your thumb inside to scoop the flesh. My aaya would patiently teach me how to do it until I had my fill.

Here is a link to a youtube video that describes how to get nungu from the tree and eat it.

My aaya was a strong woman - her husband passed away at a young age. And she brought up four girls and a son on her own. She was very frugal - lived life the organic way. She had a garden where she grew vegetables. She had a close friend with whom she would hang out and show all her gifts. Anything new I got for her she would store away for safekeeping. She was very practical and ate fresh food - avoided snacks. And I remember she complained about the AC being too cold for my wedding. She walked barefoot everywhere. I remember my mom telling me that my aaya had a lovely voice and had put me to bed singing lullabies when I was a kid. I am glad I had so many summers where I tasted her satisfying cooking and spent time with her.

My aaya passed away a few years ago, but her memories have only strengthened. And every summer when I go back home, it is nice to revisit those memories and fill my emotional coffers. I am grateful to have these experiences with my aaya, which will last forever that leave the wonderful taste of Fish, Jackfruits and Nungu.