Moongre

 From a distance, these look like green beans.

They aren't.

 Up close, they are skinnier than beans and have a radish flavor.
I had no idea what they were and so had to do some research.

Looking up green bean that tastes like radish did little good.  But when I finally had the Hindi name, moongre, I found what I wanted to know:  they are radish seed pods.

What does a person do with radish seed pods?  Well, there aren't a lot of recipes.  The choices seem to be to eat them raw or make moongre alou ki subzi.
Which I did.
Not bad.  But I'll probably pay better attention next time so that the vegetable man brings me beans and not moongre.

Home delivery is my favorite

Why I love delivery...

Almost anything can be delivered here.

I love that.

I love that the vegetable man comes down my street, but I don't have to go down to him. I love that he will come up four flights of stairs and bring the tomatoes to me.
I love that I can order hummus from the mall and they will bring it across some serious traffic to get it to me.
I love that I have a collection of menus from restaurants who will bring dinner to my door.

I love that I can leave my ravioli at the grocery store and they will bring it to me--as long as I order some milk and crackers as well.

Ya.
That's right.

I went to the grocery store after eating at a restaurant and--as required--left my "shopping bag" full of leftover ravioli in the care of the guard at the door.
And then I completely forgot it.
When I remembered it at 8:30pm, I called the store and asked them to deliver me some milk, a few crackers...and was my ravioli still there with the guard? Would they, please, bring that, too?
It took some convincing. They wanted to bring the order in the morning. But it happened. By 9:30pm, I had my milk, crackers and ravioli.

Nice.
I love delivery.

Exotic vegetables

I bought exotic vegetables.
I didn't know I was shopping in the exotic section of the produce, but that's how my receipt listed my purchases.
What did I buy?
Zucchini and yellow summer squash.
I found them amongst the asparagus and broccoli--the produce that gardens and farmers markets where I'm from are full of this time of year.
Irony.

Bitter gourd

My neighbor wanted to share with me. What did she want to share? Some bitter gourd, also known as bitter melon.
Whatever you want to call it, it looks like a bumpy cucumber and it tastes...bitter. Awful bitter.

But she'd fried it to death and I almost couldn't make out the bitterness--it did catch up to me later, though, and stay with me for hours.
She explained all the bitter gourd's good health properties to me. Good for thinning the blood, diabetes, something something.
And she sent some home with me.
Hm.

I tried to convince someone else to eat these treats for me. You know, a cultural experience and all. Eat the bitter gourd to say you've tried it.
I was unconvincing.

My neighbor waved at me from the balcony today and said to come over. I wonder what she'll have for me to try next.

Indian Bitter Melon Resembling a bumpy cucumber, Indian Bitter Melon is much smaller than Chinese Bitter Melon, only 4 to 5 inches in length. The grooved yellow-green to dark-green skin holds a fibrous, seed-filled core. The lighter the color, the milder the taste. Its slightly sour flavor becomes quite bitter upon ripening. This bitter or quinine flavor is often combined with garlic or chili. It is used in soups, curries, stir-fry, or can be steamed and braised.

Indian bitter melon

Peppers in the road

We were driving along and I was lost in thought when the auto driver did some crazy stunt driving, swerving around in the road. He was making an attempt to grab a bag of something out of the middle of the speeding traffic.
The motorcycle behind us screeched its brakes and went around us, scolding loudly.
The driver decided it was too dangerous and he pulled over. Still a dangerous maneuver--he, himself, ran out into the middle of the traffic and retrieved a bag of peppers, which he stowed inside the auto.

And we drove on.
Whoa.

I hadn't seen where the peppers came from, but apparently the driver had, and in a matter of moments he was yelling to another driver to come up next to him.
At the upcoming stoplight, the other auto pulled up beside us. "Have you got them?" the driver breathed.
"Yes, yes, they're safe," my driver handed the bag full of red and yellow peppers to the other, whose auto was full of vegetables.
"Oh," he sighed, "Thank you, thank you. Meherbani. You have done a good thing for me." He touched his forehead and chest in deepest gratitude.
"Yes, yes, take care. You have many vegetables there. I went out and got these for you."
"Thank you, thank you, brother," the other driver pulled out a cigarette, lit it and inhaled deeply to settle his nerves. "These ones are hard to find. I was going back for them."
My driver nodded, "I saw. I saw."

The light changed and again we drove on.
And for the rest of the ride, the driver alternated between whistling and singing.
Yes, it was a good deed.
Well done, sir.

Avocado lament

My avocado is gone. I accidentally gave it away.

You see, I asked the vegetable man if he had broccoli, and he had to go to the market special just to get it for me. Broccoli is out of season and expensive, so he then checked back with me to see if I really wanted it before he brought some. When he did, I showed him the avocado and asked him if he knew of them so that he could find those for me, too.
He understood the avocado was a gift for him and he took it away with him.

Sniff.

Now that I think about it, isn't an avocado a fruit? So I guess I'm asking the wrong guy anyway.

I had big plans for that avocado.

Aw man.

Language barriers: boo.

Subzi call

Each subzi wallah (vegetable seller) has their own distinct call. They come through the neighborhood every morning with their vegetable laden carts--tomatoes, carrots, cucumbers, normal things and others I can't identify.
Women come out on the balcony and yell, "Ho, how much are your tomatoes?" And in a bid for a lower price they add, "Oh, they don't look very good."
The vegetable selling lady shouts that the cauliflower has come, and other things I cannot discern.
But the snack man: he has a bell.

Shopping sights

I went out shopping and I saw a whole range of interesting sights.


A typical view of the houseboats.

Where I bought my vegetables.


Cloth for a new suit.

What is the fake horse doing in the mall?

Is it the real Pizza Hut?


And, yes, shepherdesses with their sheep.