A pickle after my own heart


It’s always nice to make a discovery in a new neighbourhood. Especially when it comes with a handwritten label, is good for 6 months from packaging and is filled with spices, vinegar and dried prawns.

I grew up with the smell of dried fish in Bombay. The smell of Bombils hung out to dry never once marred the air of romance on Bandra’s Carter Road. ‘Prawn baaji’ was and still is reminiscent of Mum’s flair in the kitchen.

This particular bottle however, isn’t everyone’s cuppa tea. The smell of dried prawns is overpowering. The sour and salty flavours make each bite even more jarring. It’s an acquired taste no doubt, but a pinch of prawn pickle does wonders to a meal of daal and rice or a hearty soup during a cleanse. It also goes well with a slice of warm bread and butter. I love it so much that I’m eating it as is even as I type.

It is just what I needed to make an already perfect Sunday even better. My plan for next week is to find out more about the maker of this beautiful little preserve, where it comes from (something tells me the makers live just around the corner) and what other varieties I can get my hands on.

Until then, have a happy new week!

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