It's Bharli Wangee, Mate !

My friend, Shruti Nargundkar of Melbourne, on a recent visit to the land of her birth, and childhood, lugged back a few traditional vessels to her modern Australian Kitchen. One of these , called Langdi, (see picture below) , goes back a long way and is typically used whenever you make Bharli Wangi, or spicy stuffed baby aubergines/eggplant/brinjal.

Do read her memories and her recipe here

Long after the aubergines disappear, the real fun starts. Wiping and scraping of all the spicy goods stuck to the langdi, with a no-nonsense mixture of rice and ghee, which is then imbibed and licked off , with a great sense of satisfaction......

Bharli wangees often inspire poetry . Once in Marathi. Then again in English,  for the aubergine types. :-)

All photographs by Shruti Nargundkar.


 

लंगडी, रोवळीताई, परात अम्मा , फिर्कीताम्ब्याताई आणि कढईबाई , माळ्यावरच्या अनेक पंचवार्षिक वनवासानंतर अचानक प्रगटल्या, आणि कुणा एका माहेरवाशीण लेकीला बघून भाकरी , भरली वांगी, मसाले भात कढी वगैरे चे दिवस त्यांना आठवू लागले. हट्टाला पेटून लंगडी परदेशी गेली, तिला अगदी अंबेजोगाईहून मलबार हिलला गेल्या सारखे वाटले … चकचकीत सफेद प्लेट्स , पारदर्शक नक्शीवले बाउल , पदार्थ न चिकटणारी पातेली, आणि काट्या चमच्यांचा संसार . अचानक एके दिवशी ती ओट्यावर आली, आतुरतेने शेगडीवर गेली, आणि छोट्या छोट्या भरलेल्या वान्ग्यांबरोबर तीळ ,खोबरे , दाणे आणि कांद्यात अगदी रमून गेली. चुलीवरचे दिवस, मधूनच फडक्यांनी हलवलेली लंगडी , खाली आडमुठेपणाने चिकटलेला मसाला, सगळ डोळ्यासामोर तरळले जेवणे झाली , मंडळी उठली, आणि आवरा आवर करता करता लंगडीला नेहमीचा जुना भास झाला … थोडासा भात तिच्यात घालून चापून चोपून मसाला पुसून माहेरवाशीण डोळे मिटून तृप्त मनाने घास घेत होती. इकडे माळ्यावर पराताम्मा आणि कढइबाई अगदी कृतकृत्य झाल्या

Traditional langdi vessels along with those with wide brass expanses, and slopes and threaded adorned necks, rushing down from a family loft to welcome home a prodigal daughter from Down Under. And the incorrigible langdi, tagging along with the daughter on her way back. A bit intimidated by a world of china, crystal, forks, spoons and vessels shooing away sticky food, she took her time to emerge. On the stove one day, immersed in deep conversation with sesame, groundnut, coconut and onion minions, wandering in and out of the sizzling baby aubergines, she dreamt of her days on a mud stove, someone holding and shaking her using a cloth, and some spices defiantly sticking loyally to her. The meal over, folks left to clear up and she thought she felt something. That took her back many many years.... The prodigal daughter, was wiping her remaining sticky spices, with a decent dollop of rice and ghee, and imbibing it all licking her clean, with single minded devotion.... Back home, all her friends from the loft, now in retirement, sort of nudged each other and couldn't contain a smile..... The Langdi had arrived Down Under !