My Cup Runneth Over

There was a time I would NOT eat drumsticks/moringa and positively detested custard apples.

Just between you and me, I judged people who enjoyed them. I was convinced they had been dropped on their head by their mothers, repeatedly. Hence their mental faculties were irreparably damaged. One sympathized, of course, but one didn’t fret over it too much. It is what it is, one said. And shrugged the matter off.

There are other things I detested, when I was young and dumb. Paneer, tomatoes, coriander, okra, a bunch of other vegetables. As I grew older, my aversion to all other veggies faded. But I continued to turn up my nose at okra, moringa and custard apples.

Six years ago I came to live on the farm. My food preferences had remained intact for over 50 years.

While our house was being built, a plantation expert told us to plant moringa trees around the periphery. He told us we’d be able to make loads of money after two-years. My dad and I were convinced it was a good idea. We gave him the contract and he planted 250 trees.

By the time the house was ready and we moved in, only twelve of the 250 remained. But even twelve were a lot.

The first year moringa fruited, we harvested 84 kgs. I told myself I have to stop being an ass and eat the stuff because it was so good for health. To my amazement, I fell in love with drumsticks. I now can’t get enough of them.

I might have thought nothing of it. After all, I hated tomatoes once. One grows out of dumbness.

But the exact same thing happened with custard apples. Three years ago I gingerly tasted the first custard apple from my homestead. A part of me went into a deep trance only to emerge every season and return to it after having my fill of the goodies.

Why am I telling you this?

Because I just finished devouring three custard apples and I am entranced, afresh.

I now believe I walked through a portal when I moved to the homestead, shedding my old self at the gates before stepping through. Nothing else can explain the 180 degree change.

Why I was daft enough to dislike something that’s pure ambrosia, aka, custard apples? As for moringa, don’t even get me started on it.

Moringa was made for sambhar, rasam and dal. But you add them to any veggies and suddenly the meal becomes gourmet.

Towards the end of the moringa season, the pods on the highest branches become five to six times thicker than normal pods. And some of them are upto two feet long, I kid you not.

You cut them into approximately six to nine-inch sections, roast them over an open flame. Then you open them, sprinkle salt and a bit of lemon juice over the steamy interiors and gobble them. The taste is unlike ANYTHING you can imagine. The seeds are cooked and taste like freshly roasted peanuts.

We can hold on to an opinion for fifty years and mistake its longevity for evidence of its correctness. Sometimes all it takes to overturn it is one really good custard apple.

I have added these two things to the already humongous list of things for which I am immensely grateful. I still don’t like okra though. 🙂

As the King David said, though in another context, “My Cup Runneth Over.”