Toddy Shop Dishes-Thottu Kootans
I have very fond memories of my holidays visiting my hometown during our summer vacation...we kids(who were born and raised in the Gulf) would make friends with most of the children of the village.
At times, we were like museum exhibits for them (back then in the seventies)
as we were not well versed in our mother tongue and if at all we did utter a word or two, it would be accented and they would wait for us to speak, to laugh at how we communicated. Learnt a lot of nice ways to interact through gestures,but they were always there to correct our pronunciation!
Even the clothes that we wore, very normal cotton or chiffon frocks etc would create some sensation amongst the kids...the only time I experienced what a ramp walk was probably like ! :)
Ok!let's get back to the story...so with these kids as our companions we would wander about our yard or some neighbours' yards and locate Paranki Mavu(Cashewnut Trees)
I used to be amazed as a child at the fruit with the cashew sticking out at the bottom. These kids taught us how to at times dump the fruit or suck on it, a sticky affair indeed! and we would make a small bonfire and they would throw all the cashewnuts into the fire and all of us would sit around, would stoke the fire as well as move the nuts about, until it blackened...and then while it was hot and charred, took it off and smashed it with a stone or pebble and oh yummy a nice aroma emanated and sight of a toasted nut would be there inside!
No school could teach one these! One had to experience such things back then...
We would compete with one another who would collect the most nuts ,or ate the most and the works. Three decades have gone by, a few of those kids might be in and around, I know one or two passed away :( but would never recognize their faces even if I had to brush shoulders with them now somewhere...childhood playmates! The recipe follows in a couple of hours...
I think I perfected my mother tongue after I got married and settled down with the husband.
At times, we were like museum exhibits for them (back then in the seventies)
as we were not well versed in our mother tongue and if at all we did utter a word or two, it would be accented and they would wait for us to speak, to laugh at how we communicated. Learnt a lot of nice ways to interact through gestures,but they were always there to correct our pronunciation!
Even the clothes that we wore, very normal cotton or chiffon frocks etc would create some sensation amongst the kids...the only time I experienced what a ramp walk was probably like ! :)
Ok!let's get back to the story...so with these kids as our companions we would wander about our yard or some neighbours' yards and locate Paranki Mavu(Cashewnut Trees)
I used to be amazed as a child at the fruit with the cashew sticking out at the bottom. These kids taught us how to at times dump the fruit or suck on it, a sticky affair indeed! and we would make a small bonfire and they would throw all the cashewnuts into the fire and all of us would sit around, would stoke the fire as well as move the nuts about, until it blackened...and then while it was hot and charred, took it off and smashed it with a stone or pebble and oh yummy a nice aroma emanated and sight of a toasted nut would be there inside!
No school could teach one these! One had to experience such things back then...
We would compete with one another who would collect the most nuts ,or ate the most and the works. Three decades have gone by, a few of those kids might be in and around, I know one or two passed away :( but would never recognize their faces even if I had to brush shoulders with them now somewhere...childhood playmates! The recipe follows in a couple of hours...
I think I perfected my mother tongue after I got married and settled down with the husband.
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