Mulling over Mulberries in May.
It is going to be a hot summer. The melons, maltas, and water melons are abundant. Grapes beckon to us in green and intense purple black and apples sit on fruit carts in the streets of Delhi, possibly emerging out of cold storage, but an unusual event nevertheless, because in days long gone by, fruits such as the apple could not be seen once March arrived. In fact, even Delhi's red carrots, that were being sold until last week have also had a long run to the end of April. I still have two red carrots in my vegetable tray in the refrigerator and shall consume them this morning, before welcoming the orange carrots venturing out boldly in the face of the summer heat. Today is the fourth of May. allso the start of the agni nakshatra, my mom announces, as we ready ourselves for an incredibly hot spell.
The mango has been walking the streets of Delhi since February, announcing that this will be a hot season. The Safeda, aka Banganapalli is the most dominant mango , but the Sinduri and the Totapuri and the Turkman, are doing the rounds and recently Hapus or Apoos from Bombay have also joined the fray. The Turkman is a small mango, thin skinned and sweet, with a rich flavour while the Hapus , a little bigger than the Turkman hits high taste and flavour notes in every bite. Even before the other varieties of mangoes hit the streets, the mango captures the imagination and tweaks the tastebuds for the longest season every year.
Of late I have begun to wonder whether large fruits, such as the papaya, the watermelon, the pomegranate and banana( available all year long) the melons, pineapple, pears and peaches, less frequent visitors, have begun to edge out other berries and fruit not only from the carts but also from the cultural imagination?
Fresh fruit of the date palm, grace the fruit carts for a very short time every year, although the ripe fruit, dried and packaged occupies pride of place in carts and stores all year long. The jujube fruit for instance, that Sabari bit into to verify ripeness and sweetness before arranging them on a leaf plater for the visiting Rama. We grew up buying three kinds of ber or jujubes fruit, in three sizes, red and pea sized, rust red and marble sized and the green yellow jujube that was ovoid shaped and turned a rust brown when overripe, and could be enjoyed both fresh, ripe and overripe.. The ovoid shaped ber or jujube, available in shiv-ratri season, could be eaten only after being offered to Shiva. Nowadays humungous jujubes called apple jujubes continue to arrive at markets in spring. The two smaller sizes are hard to come by, although Tamil Nadu markets the most delicious packaged jujube pappads or vadas or paste made from the dried red fruit, which is consumed stealthily by those in the know. For those who have never eaten jujube paste from Tamil Nadu, the jujube pickle made with mustard provides delicious counterpoint and yes, both the jujube papad and jujube pickle win hands down over aam papad.
The maulsari, a delicious tiny orange red fruit with hints of the cheeku, that most people do not seem to have heard of. There are several Maulsari trees in full fruit at the college where I teach, that could with continued attention allow us to harvest abundant fruit. There is also the khirni, a fruit that possibly belongs to the same family as the Maulsari (Mimosops Elegi), and is ovoid in shape but yellow in colour, I have purchased them from a vendor in Chandni Chowk, but the fruit is rarely seen, although the tree itself is supposedly hardy and the fruit is meant to be nourishing, once consumed only by royalty.
This April, we also had two days when phalsa and jamun were sold by street vendors because of the odd rainy weather at New Delhi. Of the two, The jamun has managed to retain its clientele and can be found boxed up in imposing cartons. However, vendors selling both fruit turn up in the month of June. Yet, other perishable fruit, that grow on trees in New Delhi such as the fig and the mulberry seem to be receiving short shrift. Figs sell in carts in parts of Bombay and Kerala, but are rare to access in New Delhi, although the Gular grows in Delhi. Occasionally a stray vendor might sells some wilted figs in transparent package, but such a solitary swallow does not a summer make!
The mulberry, available in small and medium and long sizes and in both deep pink and creamy green colours and a palette that ranges from tart to sour-sweet and nectar sweet finds little mention in our fruit manuals. The Friday haat sells kiwis, dragon fruit and blueberries (all the way from Peru ) routinely, but vendors who stack the mulberry in these local weekly market remain non existent. Occasionally, a desultory vendor walks the crowded street in Sarojini Nagar market selling sad looking mulberries in a plastic carton, There is the lone vendor in green park market who stocks mulberry sometimes. I have seen one man at Connaught Place as well in a year long gone by, but the mulberry is now a less loved fruit and will if we do not watch out, go the way of the maulsari and the khirni.
This is a pity, because the mulberry is a versatile fruit , like any other. Fresh handpicked mulberries can be eaten off the tree or added to salads and sandwiches. They can be bottled as jam or turned into compotes for pancakes and waffles. Mulberry jam is a delicious toppings for cheesecake and additions to muffins and can add great colour and body to smoothies. They are dried and sold as tuth, in the spice market at Istanbul. Occasionally, dry fruit vendors from Kashmir sell dried tuth, that lends itself to a whole range of delicacies.
Recently a friend brought me mulberry candy from Hong Kong, wherein the whole purple fruit had been dried and packaged into delicious bite sized treats. It surpassed the experience of eating dried blueberries, was easier to bite into than cranberries and was softer and more intense in flavour than raisins. All in all a great pick me up, with abundant health benefits, soothing coughs and sore throats, other than being the locavore gourmet and gourmand's dream come true. The mulberry tree in front of my house has fruited through March and April and will soon sign off its innings for the season. It has provided sustenance to scores of birds, both tiny and large. It is the favourite haunt of small children who live nearby, who climb the tree and constantly raid it for its delicious and juicy fruit.
Soon, the fruit will be gone and the children will be off in pursuit of juicier options. At the end of the week, large branches of the mulberry will stretch towards the earth, having descended to feed every child and adult who wandered by and tugged at its multiple arms. These will be lopped off by idle hands and the upper ends of metallic vehicles, as obstructions that must be briskly eliminated. The electricity department will also turn up, with machines, lopping off branches to protect electricity cables, while internet service providers will loop their wires through the uppermost branches of the tree. Meanwhile the enigmatic tree will withdraw into silent meditation and plan for the next fruiting season.
