Veranda Tales-Onionology
Storytelling has been an integral part of my life since childhood. I grew up listening to stories during the hot summer evenings and nights with my cousins. Mothers and grandmothers would gather all of us children for story time. It was usually pitch dark except for a very faint light coming from the flickering candle. Power cuts were as frequent as the hot and humid summer days. We all spread out on a cool concrete floor or bamboo mats on the veranda intently listening to fascinating stories about kings, queens, princes, princesses, and peasants alike. Stories about love, life, families, and people entertained and taught us life skills. These stories transported us to distant worlds, strange yet familiar. Often the same story told by two people sounded different as storytellers added new twists and turns adding their personal style and flair to the stories.
Storytelling wasn’t limited to summer evenings and bedtime. I was surrounded by adults who didn’t pass up an opportunity to share their wisdom using the art of storytelling. These rich vibrant oral traditions include songs, poems, stories, and సామెతలు (Sametalu are proverbs in Telugu). Men and women sing songs as they work in the fields, grinding grains and spices and doing other daily chores at their homes. Stories are often used to teach important life lessons, interpersonal skills, and survival skills. These stories and the time spent listening to them made our lives richer leaving an impression on me. This series is all about reliving those memories as I share these stories.
ఉల్లి చేసే మేలు తల్లికూడా చెయ్యదు (Ulli melu talli kuda cheyyadu)
On a recent trip to Chicago, I saw so many trucks full of onions on Interstate 80. Some trucks were carrying just one kind of onion, while others were loaded with large bags of reds, whites, and yellows. I am guessing they are from the summer crop of onions from California. I was so tempted to roll down my window and ask the truck driver where these onions were from. As I was passing truck after truck packed with onions, I was wondering what would happen if onions decide to escape rolling down the highway. Highway would be covered with onions of all colors., shapes and sizes.
Having grown up in an onion loving family, I start cooking by cutting onions first, unless I give into my laziness and choose to leave onions out. Most of our family recipes are made with onions. నాన్న (nanna is father in Telugu) loved గోంగూర పచ్చడి (Gongura pachadi) with rice and fresh onion pieces. గోంగూర (Gongura) is a variety of the roselle plant and its leaves are used in several dishes in Andhra Pradesh cuisine. I inherited his love of గోంగూర పచ్చడి (Gongura pachadi) and eat it like he did with onions. I pile up my plate with tons of roasted onion pieces and a little piece of Tandoori chicken when I go to an Indian Restaurant. My children make fun of me and ask me to leave a few onions for other diners.
Onions are an integral part of a lot of cuisines across the world. It is hard to imagine salsa or raita without diced onions. Cuisines that don’t use onions pay tribute to the mighty onions with onion rings and blooming onions.
The mighty onion has been used in Asia for at least 7000 years. Onions are rich in chemicals that can protect our hearts, lower risks of some cancers, and help our bodies make insulin. My ancestors must have known these benefits for a longtime considering the number of sametas that are popular among Telugu speakers. ఉల్లి (ulli is onion in Telugu).
These sametas refer to ఉల్లి (ulli) and వెల్లుల్లి (vellulli is garlic in Telugu) as both of these offer several health benefits. After hearing about all these benefits and comparing the benefits of an onion to that of ten mothers, I am beginning to wonder why there are no temples built for onions in India. However, onions provided romantic advice for women trying to choose between two suitors. They would carve out their names on separate onions and the onion that sprouts first reveals the suitor who was worthy of her affection.
Onions are forbidden for some groups of people in India. According to mythology, Sage Durvasa was known for his short temper and anger. He invited several sages to his house for a meal. The sages got lost on their way to Durvasa’s house. They were very hungry and found onions and garlic growing along their path. They didn’t know what they were, but since they looked edible, they dug them up and ate them. After consuming onions and garlic, a feeling of satisfaction and warmth came over them. They forgot all about the lunch and went back to their homes.
The following day they remembered that they missed the luncheon at Sage Durvasa’s house. They were afraid that Durvasa would be angry at them. They immediately went to his house without getting lost. Sage Durvasa asked them to take him to the place where they found onions and garlic upon hearing their experience. He then set down a rule that ascetics should not eat onions and garlic as experiencing satisfaction and warmth was considered unbecoming of an ascetic or sage.
According to another mythological story, after devas and asuras completed the Kshira Sagara madhanam (churning of Ocean of Milk), amrit, elixir of immortal life emerged. Devas and asuras fought over who should get the elixir. Lord Vishnu disguised as Mohini convinced asuras to allow him to distribute the amrit and started giving it out to only devas. One of the asuras disguised as a deva managed to get amrit and take a sip. Before amrit made it down to his throat, Vishnu severed his head. The head became Rahu and the torso turned into Ketu. The blood drops dripped down into the ground and became onion and garlic. As a result, these two root vegetables are forbidden for followers of Lord Vishnu.
I love both onions and garlic and use them generously in my cooking. As I write this story, I am beginning to think that I have to make sure my children don’t hear these sametas. If they do, all their hugs that should come my way might start going to a bag of onions.