Prawns Jeeraen Meeri

Prawns Jeeraen Meeri Curry (Pic by June Carvalho)

JEERAEN Meeri in Konkani literally means cumin (jeera)-pepper, so there are no prizes for guessing that the masala for this prawn curry employs both these spices alongside red chillies. However, I cannot fathom for the life of me as to why this curry is named after jeera and pepper, considering the minuscule quantities of both in comparison to the red chillies, but that's how it has been and no one seems to have felt the need to question that.

For those who don't like coconut in their food for health or taste reasons, this is a good option. The onion, garlic and tamarind ground together with the spices yield a fairly thick gravy.

When cooking prawns in a red curry, we generally use them in combination with any one vegetable such as diced vegetable marrow (called Mangalore cucumber or vellarikai), potatoes, bhindi (okra), or bottle gourd (lauki). Here I have used bhindi. Peas, potatoes and cauliflower team up well with prawns when cooked in a yellow or green curry.

What you need for 1/2 kg prawns:

12 Byadgi (dry red) chillies
1 tsp cumin seed
6 peppercorns
1 onions
1/2 tsp turmeric powder
A lime-sized ball of tamarind
12 bhindi
2 onions, sliced and fried golden
1 tbsp  oil 

Wash well, shell and devein prawns. Wash and wipe dry the bhindi and cut into 2" pieces. Lightly fry in a tablespoon of oil till they're no longer sticky.

Grind the first six ingredients (colour-coded red) with a little water to a fine paste. Put the paste into a cooking pan with two cups of water. Add salt to taste and drop the lightly fried bhindi in. Cook for about two minutes, then slide in the prawns. Bring to a boil and when the prawns are cooked, sprinkle the golden fried onion. Stir. Allow to simmer on slow flame for 5 minutes before serving with rice.

Mackerel Curry

Mackerel Curry (Pic by June Carvalho)

NOTHING fishy about this spicy-sour fish curry from Mangalore, which is like everyday fare for the people of the Karavali region of coastal Karnataka. Here I have used mackerel, but the gravy is the same for other oil-rich fish like sardines. Other varieties of fish like ladyfish (kane), silver fish (bili meen), mullet, shetka etc., call for a slight twist in the masala and occasionally the use of coconut milk, finished off with onion golden fried in coconut oil.

Once upon a time, in the not-so-distant past, the masala used to be manually ground to a smooth, fine paste in a huge, round grinding stone (called vaan in Konkani), a very necessary piece of equipment in all kitchens before convenient electrical grinders rendered them nearly obsolete. 

In both my grandmothers' smoke-blackened traditional kitchens, fish curry was always made in a well-seasoned clay pot or chatti (called kundlen in Konkani) on a wood-fired stove. The taste of the curry cooked thus, was unbeatable, with a certain smoky and earthy flavour that's hard to describe or replicate in modern kitchens.

The following day, the left-over curry if any, was called kalchi kadi meaning "yesterday's curry". Kalchi kadi was a simple delicacy in its own right after it was thickened in the pot over a wood fire. Only those who have savoured it along with a plateful of red boiled rice porridge (kanji) as a mid-morning filler will know what it means to relish kalchi kadi. Kanji with kalchi kadi might sound like poor man's fare, but was eaten across the board.  As children, though, we cooked up all sorts of excuses to avoid eating it at 11 am, having already had breakfast at 8 am and knowing that lunch would follow on the dot of 1 pm, the eagerly awaited tea and snacks at 4 pm, not to mention dinner at 8 pm...but that's exactly how leisurely and languid life was some 40 years ago, centred mainly around food...and fresh fish.

When I had temporarily moved to Sharjah to work for a couple of years, I had made it a point to carry a couple of those clay pots exclusively for cooking fish curry and maintained and handled them with the level of care normally reserved for fine porcelain! The clay pot seen in the picture, however, is the type used in Kerala.

This curry is best had with red boiled rice, with a piece of fried fish and a vegetable on the side. Mackerel curry always tastes better the day after it's prepared.

My spouse, known for his simple but wholesome food tastes, will easily forgo the most lavish five-star banquet just for a plateful of rice and fish curry. He feels like a fish out of water if he hasn't had seafood once in a couple of days...for him, seafood everyday would be the equivalent of sheer bliss!

What you need

for 4 big mackerel:

1/2 a coconut grated
8 Byadgi red chillis
1 tbsp coriander seeds
A small pinch of cumin seed
4 peppercorns
1/4 tsp turmeric powder
1 onion
2 flakes garlic
A lime sized ball of tamarind

3 green chillis, slit lengthwise
1/2-inch piece of ginger chopped
Salt to taste


Clean and cut each mackerel into three pieces - the head, the middle and the tail.

Grind the first nine ingredients to a fine paste using a little water. In a cooking pot, pour half a cup of water and add the slit green chillies and chopped ginger. Put the paste and salt to taste, adding enough water to make a gravy of medium thick consistency. Bring to a boil and drop the fish in. Bring to another rolling boil and switch off heat.

Mussels and mussels...alive alive-o!

FISHERFOLK are engrossed in separating clumps of freshly picked mussels at the Kundapur waterfront, on the Konkan coast of Karnataka. (Apr 30, 2012). The scene brought to mind the popular, old Irish song Molly Malone, in which Molly the fishmonger, plies her trade through the streets of Dublin, singing "...cockles and mussels, alive alive-o." This catch was indeed as alive alive oh as it could get. The asking price? INR 400 for 100 mussels.

(Above & below): It's a scenic walk along the Kundapur waterfront, although some careless litter here and there acts as a scene spoiler.