The other day, I had been to the mill to purchase nuts and dried fruits. The Arab world has a strong culture of dried fruit consumption and the Indian diaspora living here has also adopted a similar way of living.
When I entered the store, I was greeted with the usual colourful array of nuts and dried fruit laid out, in tantalising heaps. There were roasted, smoked, salted, spiced nuts of every kind – shelled/de-shelled, trail mixes of almost every permutation and combination and rich offerings of dried, sliced fruit. I even caught sight of rich coconut shavings, an assortment of candies and gobstoppers and an entire section dedicated to rice and wheat crackers of all shapes and sizes. It was a very well-stocked store and rather fancy, with artisanal chocolate kept at the POS counter.
As is my habit, I naturally levitated towards the cashews and looked greedily at the salted pile. The macadamias also looked very enticing as I happened to glance over them.
I asked the assistant to give me a taste of the plain cashew nuts, the ones without any flavouring. She happily obliged and I munched on one of the two kernels she offered me. I allowed my tongue to enjoy the taste and texture of the nut. I have always loved cashews and find them very versatile. You can add any spice to them; they adapt to it very well. I began thinking about it. They do not have a distinct flavour or texture to them, unlike a walnut or an almond. One cannot easily mask the subtle bitterness of a walnut or the faint sweetness of an almond. But the cashew essentially has an extremely bare taste and pairs excellently with a range of flavours.
As I stood there happily munching on my nuts (I also asked for a taste of the salted macadamias), people thronged the shop. Most of them purchased coated almonds, smoked cashews, roasted pistachios, fanciful trail mixes and dried apricots. There were very few takers for the plain dried fruit offerings. The unsalted almonds, walnuts and such – stood solemnly in their piles, probably untouched since morning. They were strategically placed at the lesser noticed corner of the spread. After asking for a couple more tastes, I settled on the smoked cashews. The barbecue flavoured ones were far too pricey. That’s another thing, the spiced or coated nuts were so very expensive relative to the unsalted ones. It was ridiculous. After paying at the POS counter and giving one final look of longing to the Swiss-made milk chocolate treats that were kept there, I walked out.
It is so in life too, isn’t it. We live in an era, wherein originality is often confused for commonality and people throng towards that what is polished, made up, pleasant. Catered to their tastes. You want an almond that tastes like chocolate? You got it. You want a cheddar flavoured cashew? No problem. Craving for an almond that tastes like beef jerky? Smoked almonds coming right up! No one wants the stark bitterness of a walnut, the odd aftertaste of an almond, the tough chewiness of a dried fig, the simple plain mouthfeel of a cashew or the irritating endeavour of having to deshell a pistachio before enjoying the pleasant treat that lies within.
On my way home, I pondered over this thought, while quite hypocritically, munching on my smoked cashews. I guzzled down at least a hundred grams of it, it was addictive and while I was chewing on one, my hand was already reaching down in the packet for the next. Before long, my father gave me a look of worry and confiscated the packet. I pouted all the way, on the ride back home. When I reached, I changed my clothes and as I was doing so, I emptied my pockets. I found to my surprise, a plain, single almond. I had asked for it as a sample and had forgotten to eat it. I popped it into my mouth. I allowed my teeth to chew on it ever so slowly, carefully aware of my mouth feel. My tongue explored the various flavours finally enjoying the faint sweetness of the aftertaste. I took my own sweet time and I kid you not, I felt more fulfilled and satiated from this one almond, than I had while I was devouring the cashews. And that’s what originality does to you. It satiates you. Fulfils you. Grounds you. Teaches you what life is, without the thrills and the frills. The simple act of consuming a plain, unsalted almond taught me so much!
I vowed there and then, to always purchase the plain nuts, henceforth.
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