[Continued] Chapter 1: Food As I Knew It (1982-2008)
My earliest memories of chai are not of drinking it, but dunking in it.
Through all the years, if there was one thing that never changed between my parents, it was their morning chai ritual. We weren’t typically a part of this, but on some days when they felt generous, we did get to dip our ‘parle g’ biscuits (Indian glucose biscuits) in their morning cuppa. Such days were special. We got to witness their affection, in form of a sugar cube shared between their two cups, and also got a chance to eavesdrop on them discussing our fates.
My mother grew up in a more affluent and protected environment than my father. He comes from a simple middle class family, is a self made man, and has discovered his way around scrumptious street food. He introduced us to the unmatched pleasures of road trips, eating under the stars, staying in less than posh motels (because all you need is a bed, a can of baked beans and toast) and of course savouring a perfect chai from a roadside vendor. They differed on many fronts, but bonded over their common need for chai.
In the summer of 1999, we took a family road trip from Bangalore to Goa. Southern India is predominantly a coffee drinking part of India. Aad while you definitely can find tea, it was not quite the way my parents liked it. So while my brother and I were excited about beach gear, my mother went shopping for a travel kettle. Packed and ready to go, we were proudly armed with cucumber sandwiches, potato rolls, chips and a kettle for chai. But where would we plug this thing? We didn’t stay in fancy hotels that were equipped for tea making. My dad took care of that - it was well clarified before checking into any motel or guest house that we would either have access to an electric socket somewhere on their premises, or the staff would boil water in the kettle for us every morning. Talk about being resourceful.
My mother was never a swimmer. She was scared of water and never quite learned how to swim. So throughout this trip, I have a vivid memory of the morning swims with my brother and dad, while she sat a short distance away and stirred lovingly into the cups of tea, that truly seemed to complete their holiday.
Fast forward to 2005, when my parents moved back to Delhi. As they settled into a new life and new home with very few belongings (shipping took forever those days), that same kettle served them well for the early days or chai making.
Strangely, I am predominantly a coffee drinker, but chai has remained central to my life till date. And when I do have it, it can be nothing short of perfect. The aroma itself brings back memories of times of laughter, holidays, dad meeting my now husband, and being pregnant.
Today I share with you the recipe of that very cup that took many iterations to master. The cup that moulded my relationships and introduced me to feelings. A cup of chai that is forever family.
Ingredients (makes 2 cups)
1.5 cups water
1 cup whole milk
3 cloves, crushed
2 green cardamom, crushed
2 teaspoons fresh ginger, grated
3 teaspoons Indian black tea leaves (use the loose tea, not tea bags)
2 teaspoons brown sugar (or to taste)
Plenty of patience
Method
Bring the water, sugar, ginger, cardamom and cloves to a boil. Add the tea leaves, and boil for another minute of two, till the colour gets intensely dark. Slowly add the milk, and bring to another boil. Make sure you’re watching or the tea might boil over.
Reduce heat and let the mixture simmer for 10-15 minutes, till it reaches a dark caramel colour, stirring once every 3-5 minutes. Use this time to bring out your favourite cookies, grab a book, and get ready for the tea-of-no-return.
Once ready, cover the tea for a few minutes to let the flavours infuse. Strain into cups, and enjoy piping hot, preferably with a loved one.
