Encounter
I’m in the throes of a one-sided love affair the spouse heartily approves of. Before this opening sentence leads to any misinterpretation, allow me to clarify: since 2019 or thereabouts, I, along with most of the rest of the world, have given my heart, taste buds and entertainment options to all things hallyu. Korean drama, Korean food, BTS translate to my entertainment, eating, energy. My rational mind tells me this perfection is somewhat manufactured, and of course Korea has its share of problems, but hey, if JCW or Suga want to give me killer smiles and amazing music, why on earth should I resist? This hallyu phase of my life is actually the subject of another piece of writing that I intend to finish as soon as my latest k-drama reaches a bittersweet ending and certainly before BTS’ Jin is discharged from the military.
Today’s piece, though, is about something far more real than k-pop idols or k-drama oppas. It’s about food and the mysterious connection therein to the hearts and minds of complete strangers. Korean food plays a key role in k-dramas. Japchae, gimbap, tteokbokki, pajeon, bulgogi, ramyeon, kimchi – these are dishes lovingly depicted in shows, bringing characters together, offerings of peace in the midst of drama, comforting and cajoling, while also promoting Korean cuisine to viewers, causing us to salivate over the strangest ingredients: seaweed soup, bracken, perilla leaves. Additionally, ARMY worldwide will identify with the strange fascination I have with JK’s breakfast menus and Yoongi’s endless appetite.
This isn’t about Korean food though. It’s about a more local meal – neer dosas, drumstick sambar and coconut chutney.
A few days ago, my yoga teacher asked me if I knew how to make neer dosa. Now, in spite of having lost my South Indian accent, I am still considered something of an expert on all things south of Pune by my SoBo friends. Once my childhood friends from Ernakulam and Madras have stopped sniggering, I’ll continue….
I’ve been a cultural misfit all my life. Not Parsi enough, not Gujarati enough, not Malayali enough, certainly not Tamil enough…like my favourite comfort food, I’m a bit of a khichri. Still, I can make decent sambar, the dosas aren’t half bad, the chakkavarathi is to die for and I made a mean nellikai thokku once. So, funny as it seems, I’ve become a bit of an incongruous expert on all matters southern.
Anyway, the question was about making neer dosa. This stumped me. I don’t like neer dosas and I have no clue how to make them. I rarely order them in restaurants, preferring appams or parottas to sop up the mutton stew. I was about to say sorry, can’t help when my yoga teacher threw in the clincher. She had two South Korean friends visiting, and they would love a cooking demonstration of neer dosa and sambar. All the comfort and music I had been given so generously through hallyu for the last few years demanded that I deliver on this request in spades. Two foodie friends and YouTube were roped in, the spouse bravely agreed to be the test subject and Project Neer Dosa was on. The batter is simple enough to make though the amount of water needed seems a bit alarming. It’s a much thinner batter than regular dosa batter and only experimentation helps to get the proportion right. That, and a hot pan. Making a neer dosa is also trickier: getting that lacy effect and cooking it until done but not dried out takes about twenty dosas to figure out. There was only one meltdown and a few moments of panic the evening before. The spouse heroically ate his way through soggy, undercooked, mushy dosas until we got the hang of it. Remembering that Koreans are super polite and would probably not object to under par dosas was only slightly reassuring. Just in case, I asked my yoga teacher to bring along some regular dosa batter as a back up plan.
I needn’t have worried. The morning was a lovely experience of very similar yet distinct cultures, a lot of namaste-ing and bowing, hesitant ‘annyeonghaseyo’ and ‘gamsahamnida’ and instant bonding over favourite k-dramas, hindi movies and BTS biases. We headed straight into the kitchen and I was charmed by how naturally the two ladies, Satt and Jin, made themselves at home. Language was not a barrier at all, though communication was a bit halting at first. Then we figured out each other’s accents and actions and we were off and cooking.
The two guests were super friendly, eager to learn and just so easy to host. They rolled up their sleeves and plunged into the whole neer dosa and sambhar conundrum, navigating their way through unfamiliar ingredients with aplomb and a lot of laughter. Drumsticks were prodded, as were all the lentils in my store cupboard, and curry patta sniffed at most appreciatively. We experimented with cooking times, techniques and temperatures, finally producing pretty light and tasty neer dosas. The sambar and coconut chutney were thoroughly enjoyed. Though I checked if spicy was OK, and got enthusiastic yes nods in answer, the sambar podi from back home proved a bit too much for unsuspecting taste buds. I toned it down with a little tamarind pulp and a pinch of sugar (heresy, I know, but international relations were at stake here) and the milder result was polished off. My lovely young yoga teacher (or Saem in informal korean) also tried her hand at making neer dosa and has promised to learn how to make kimchi from Satt and Jin. I can’t wait to eat it!!
We sat around my kitchen table, eating with our fingers, trying first one, then another person’s efforts at cooking the dosas. We talked about home made masalas, current favourite k-dramas and Saem made our guests laugh by revealing that we do yoga to the sound of BTS hits.
We parted afterwards with many hugs, smiles, a mandatory round of selfies and promises of future cooking sessions. I’m so happy to have met these lovely ladies from a country I’ve learnt so much about in the last few years through hallyu. But I had a far more important thing to learn: South Korea presents its very best side through hallyu, and why not? But the cosmetic perfection of its actors and idols, the glamorous cities and quaint villages, the perfectly presented food – all this can become a bit overwhelming and seem unreal after a while. Meeting Satt and Jin, cooking with them in my kitchen – this reassured me that ordinary folk like us are pretty similar, no matter what country we come from. Love, friendship, food, music: we bond through these basic emotions. All the borders and other artificial barriers might make politicians and tycoons happy. The rest of us only need a simmering pot of spicy drumstick sambar, some ethereal neer dosa and fresh coconut chutney (or their equivalents) to open our hearts and minds to each other.
For bringing a slice of Korea into my home, for giving hallyu a real life make over, Gamsahamnida, dear Satt and Jin! Gamsahamnida, Saem!
Note:
1. Hallyu: Korean wave – the exporting of Korea’s cultural economy by way of pop music, TV dramas, movies and even cuisine.
2. JCW – Ji Chang Wook, a
popular Korean TV actor .
3. Suga/Yoongi: Min Yoon-gi, a member of popular boy band BTS; a rapper who also goes by the moniker Agust D.
4. JK: Jeon Jung-kook, the youngest member of BTS.
5. Jin: Kim Seok-jin, the oldest member of BTS, first of the seven to join the Korean military for mandatory duty. Not to be confused with my Korean guest, also named Jin.