My family always celebrates Onam. We make it a point to all
be together, to the extent that we may delay celebrations so that no one will
be left out. Which is what happened this year; we postponed the feast from a
Wednesday to a Sunday so that my brother-in-law could join us after he returned
from a work-related trip.
Every Onam (or any feast, for that matter), my mother
painstakingly creates each dish from scratch. She doesn’t use any pre-mixed
product of any kind. She cooks all of the ten or twelve dishes by hand, usually
taking the entire morning. As her children who have lived and watched her work
throughout our lives, we have learnt that she will accept only a limited amount
of help. Beyond that line, she will consider your presence in her kitchen as
unwelcome. She won’t be mean-spirited about it at all, she will simply suggest that
you help in other ways since she’s “got her methods for the cooking.”
And so today, I cut the vegetables. A lot of raw bananas
were involved (as I always say, never try to separate a Malayalee from bananas
or coconuts -- no pun intended). And a lot of yam was involved, too. I had forgotten how they itch
and cause rashes on your hands. I spent about thirty to forty minutes trying to
calm my irritated skin.
My brother bought the ten banana leaves: one for each person
and then two more, just in case. He set all of the leaves neatly around the
dining room floor. Not at the table, since traditional Kerala feasts are eaten sitting on the ground.
Family arrived one at a time, everyone contributing in their
own way. Sister brought dessert (paayasam), Brother-in-Law brought his appetite
for all of the fish available in the house today. Sister and I served all of
the dishes in small quantities to every leaf. Cousin brought his camera to
document all of the madness.
The food was perfect. A completely traditional Kerala Sadhya
can have as far as thirty-six dishes, but ours was ten in all, not counting the
rice and paapad. This was the first year that I managed to finish everything on
my leaf. But even with just a spoon of each dish, I nearly didn’t eat all of
it. A few people managed to have second helpings of rice. Don’t ask me how they
did, I have no idea. I can only tell you that I looked on in bewilderment.
But the best part of it all, over and above everything else,
was the fact that this was a family meal. Yes, it was a feast, but it was also
just a simple meal. Our family is close-knit, and being together always leads
to fun and silliness. There were fights over who could get the last piece of
fish, over if we really had to give away the last of the Tamarind-Ginger achaar
to my sister, over her stealing the banana chips off my leaf. There was teasing
as Brother-in-Law finished his first helping of rice before everyone else did
theirs, as Mamma herself sneaked in an extra piece of fish for herself. There
were today, as there always are, laughs all around.
As I type this out, not quite out of my food daze yet, I
look forward to next Sunday when the family congregates again. No matter what
the occasion, even if there is no occasion, I know we’re going to have a
wonderful time together.
