Food, family, and festivities – Childhood memoir by Madhur Jaffrey

A significant number of us thrive on nostalgia. Most of us are dissatisfied with our lives. We await something better – money, fame, job, family, health. The list can go on and on. Our memories give us hope and happiness. No matter how hard our past has been, we find that the present is worse. Logically, it means that the future isn’t going to be a rosy garden; we would rather enjoy the present. Childhood memories are even more special. They remind us of who we were before life happened. I digress. 

I am here to talk about food. I am neither a cook nor a foodie. But I love reading and watching anything food. Give me a recipe book or a Netflix series I can read or watch in one sitting. Well, someone needs to cherish culinary creativity. That someone seems to be me and the likes. Therefore, it was apparent when the prizes for the South Asian Heritage Month event were being decided that I looked for cookbooks. I googled for books by Asma Khan, Pushpesh Pant, and Meera Sodha and stumbled upon Madhur Jaffrey’s memoir. After a bit of research, I selected the book. Simultaneously, I bought a Kindle edition as a personal copy. Engrossed in her words, I was a fan of Madhur by the following day.

Gifted are those who can remember their childhood – Madhur Jafferey is one of them. “Climbing the Mango Trees: A Memoir of a Childhood in India” delves into Madhur Jaffrey’s idyllic childhood in 1940s Delhi. The book elegantly captures the essence of the memoir-with-a-focus-on-food genre, seamlessly intertwining narratives with culinary references that evoke a blend of life and emotions. Set within the bustling household compound, family meals were a cherished tradition, bringing together a dynamic mix of parents, aunts, uncles, cousins, siblings, and the authoritative presence of Babaji—the beloved paternal grandfather who oversaw the lively gatherings. Growing up in a joint family enriched Jaffrey’s childhood with vibrant interactions among numerous cousins, though a subtle sense of solitude lingered amidst the bustling familial embrace.

Jaffrey’s spirited demeanour, characterized by tomboyish traits and deep sensitivity, found refuge in theatrical pursuits during her formative years, preceding a successful stint in film and television before embarking on her illustrious journey as a revered cookbook luminary. The depiction of family’s relative affluence is vividly portrayed through descriptions of opulent daily feasts crafted meticulously by household staff complemented by the women’s culinary contributions. These sumptuous spreads featured an array of courses, accompanied by a medley of chutneys and freshly prepared flatbreads like parathas and pooris. Preceding the grand dinners, a customary prelude akin to the French l’apéro unfolded, featuring drinks and light snacks to set the tone.

As the extended family gathered around the expansive dining table, conversations and laughter flowed, occasionally transitioning into melodic performances or poetic recitals that persisted until Babaji’s contentment signalled the end of the night’s festivities. Against the backdrop of Indian history’s rich tapestry, Jaffrey’s narrative intertwines with the era of British colonial rule, Gandhi’s emergence, and the tumultuous period of Independence and Partition. Amidst the turbulence, Jaffrey reminisces warmly on introducing diverse and tantalizing foods in Delhi, shared generously by peers from various religious and ethnic backgrounds, enriching her culinary experiences and paving the way for iconic dishes that would later resonate in Indian restaurants worldwide.

The book has led me to read more from Madhur Jaffrey and possibly write about food. However, the gem of recipes towards the end of the book is yet to entice me to the kitchen to experiment with my culinary skills.

This post has been written as part of #BlogchatterFoodFest organised by Blogchatter.