My earliest memories of tamarind are as a teenager, sitting on top of a bus in South India, plucking the fruit from the tree overhead with my classmates and friends. Ah, those were the days, footloose and fancy-free for the most part, but there we were, plucking the hard brown fruit, snapping them open and sucking on the sweet and sour flesh and spitting the seeds out (or at each other). Ever since then, and being a good Indian, I’ve loved tamarind in all its forms.
read more »
November 16, 2011
