Yesterday was a walk down memory lane for me. After 45 years, I had the chance to visit a flour mill to grind Indian spices, creating the powder needed for making Sambar and Rasam. I accompanied Lalitha, a true master at this craft, who personally oversees the quality and mix as the spices are ground in the mechanical flour mill. The spice blend consists of Red Chilli, Coriander, Turmeric (uncrushed), Pepper, Cumin, and Fenugreek. What makes it unique is the secret ratio of these, and the dry roasting, which varies from family to family or community, preserving the distinct taste and aroma of our cooking.
This experience transported me back to my Karaikudi days 0f 1970s,when it was my responsibility to walk a mile under the scorching sun to get the job done. I would carry two containers in both hands, filled with the ingredients. Interestingly, when I returned with the freshly ground flour, both my mom and grandma would often complain about the fineness of the spice or the rice wheat flour, claiming that I didn't monitor the grinding process closely enough, and the flour miller hadn't done a good job. Of course, this was my perspective as an 11-13-year-old kid. It's one of the very few instances where my mom would openly express her dissatisfaction, as she was not one to vocalize her feelings easily.
As I accompanied Lalitha yesterday, essentially working as a "porter" due to her wrist issues, these memories came flooding back. I couldn't help but notice that the flour mill we visited, just a couple of miles from home, was almost a mirror image of the one in Karaikudi. It's fascinating how, after 45 years, so little has changed. This experience made me reflect on how some things remain consistent, regardless of the passage of time. It's a testament to the enduring nature of certain aspects of life, like in-process quality checks, which still happen much the same way as they did 100 years ago. It serves as a reminder that not everything can be managed remotely, no matter how modern our world becomes.
Karthik
8th Nov 23.
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