Cardiologists advise patients to avoid daily pickle, yet ‘Avakkai’, Andhra Pradesh’s famous green mango pickle continues to be close to my heart and palate as well. Every region, I suppose, has one foodstuff stored either in salt or vinegar; or just bone dried. The idea is to keep food unspoiled over a long period of time to be served either on a regular basis or during droughts or weddings or say when an unexpected guest arrives late after mealtime.
Summer is ideal for making Avakkai as the time is relatively germ free. Secondly, the supply of mangoes peaks by then, or will be arriving in droves at the markets. I remember my summer vacations in the coastal village of my mother. As children we were allowed only as new recruits among ‘Avakkai gangs’ where elders would be cutting the mangoes or mixing it with powders. A special knife attached to a wooden pedestal would be used to cut raw mangoes, as pieces had to be cut in their right proportions, that too in one stroke.
After the cutting is over we used to peel off the remnants of the seed, not leaving even a thin layer in the insides of the seed. Next, the fun lay in using a seashell that was previously ground to leave a hole in the centre, to act as a tool in shaving off finely the outer skin. This ingenious hole-blade was used for making a different preparation called ‘Maagai’ (Yummy…it goes well with curd rice).
My grandmother was the natural chef de cuisine; those times she wore a special dress probably for hygienic purposes on the ritualistic day of Avakkai making. A separate room that was out of bounds for children existed for keeping Avakkai filled porcelain jars of different sizes. The ingredients: red chili, turmeric, and mustard, salt, et al were hand pounded. Others in the family would be busy peeling off garlic or preparing jaggery for other rarer varieties.
The other day I had to go out with my wife on my annual hunt to buy the best of raw mangoes just for our now nuclear family. We hadn’t got far as we came across the desired shop around the block. We bought the mangoes at seven rupees a piece.
For cutting them to pieces suitable for pickle making, a fellow nearby charged us one and half rupees per mango. That price we acquiesced to without demur as we have no special knife at home. A co-buyer hailing from another southern state admitted he too was a naturalised Hyderabaadi like me. He lamented what good was this buying of mangoes and the allied ingredients at exorbitant prices when we could get readymade stuff in the stores, albeit at almost the same cost. Then he elaborated his motive for buying mangoes: without going through the yearly ritual of ‘Avakkai making’ and his wife had to explain to the neighbours why they hadn’t ‘put’ Avakkai this time. His next gem was a familiar gripe of my own: having made Avakkai we are bound to distribute some samples to all kith and kin, including NRI relatives either to boast how well we are good at Avakkai making, or we just can’t refuse their veiled indents.
That night I had a nightmare: Our health minister came out with a statutory warning: ‘Avakkai may be injurious to health; known to build up cholesterol leading to plaque formations in vessels, increase BP due to high content of salt and can also cause ulcers in digestive track for its hot chili’. Besides, I saw warning posters all around in Avakkai Red, ‘Do not make Avakkai at home’.