‘How?’
‘I’d asked Maravan to put it in his food.’
Andrea looked at her wide-eyed. ‘So you wanted to kill him?’
Makeda nodded. ‘As a representative of all those others like him.’
Andrea sat down on the soft grass beside the path. Her pale face had become even paler. ‘I bet that stuff caused his heart attack.’
Makeda sat next to her and smiled. ‘Definitely not. Maravan didn’t mix it into the food.’
‘What makes you so sure?’
‘He gave me back the pills. Very discreetly that evening.’
‘Thank God!’
They sat there for a while, looking out at the sea warmed by the Gulf Stream, and the clouds gathering in the west.
‘Maybe there is a higher justice after all,’ Andrea said thoughtfully.
‘Absolutely,’ Makeda replied.
50
On a platter were mango halves and pineapple boats. He had separated the mango halves very close to the core, cut diamond shapes in their dark-yellow flesh and turned them inside out. The tender flesh of the fruit now looked like a shell of sharp-edged cubes.
He had left the stiff, decorative leaves on the pineapple boats. With a sharp knife he had cut away the softest and sweetest part of the flesh from the scaly skin and sliced it straight across. This left small blocks of pineapple, which he pushed alternately to the right and left across the boat. Neither preparation was original, but they looked pretty and could be eaten by hand.
Maravan was in his own kitchen. It was early morning; it looked like rain – a cold, grey day. The dustcart had noisily emptied the bins. Once again an uncanny silence descended on the block of flats in Theodorstrasse. It had been quiet ever since the day when the Sri Lankan government had announced the defeat of the LTTE. Journalists, independent observers and aid organizations were refused entry to the war zones. There were no reliable news reports. Only rumours. Terrible rumours about 10,000 civilians killed, people starving or suffering from an epidemic, about war crimes on both sides. Those with relatives in these areas waited apprehensively for news or signs of life; those who had heard good news did not dare celebrate, out of respect for those who had heard bad. And everybody was burdened by the uncertainty of what the future had in store – for the people in Sri Lanka and those here.
Once again, however, other events ensured the drama was kept off the front pages. The top news story affected everybody. There had been an outbreak of swine flu in Mexico and the world was gripped by the fear of a pandemic like the one which had raged after the First World War, claiming millions of lives.
The evening before, Maravan had made a thick batter of rice flour, coconut milk, sugar and a little yeast, and allowed it to ferment overnight. Half an hour ago he had added some salt and baking powder. Now it was time to coat the small, hot, semi-circular iron pan with a little coconut oil.
He put it back on the heat, dropped in two dessertspoons of batter, took the pan by its handle from the cooker and let its contents run to form a layer at either side. He cracked open an egg and poured it into the middle of the batter. Then he returned the pan to a low flame and covered it. Three minutes later the edges of the hopper were brown and the egg was cooked through. He kept the egg hopper warm in the oven and started making the next one.
When he brought the tray with the aromatic hoppers, coconut chutney, tea and fruit into the bedroom it was still dark.
But Sandana’s voice sounded clear and awake when she said, ‘So, when are you going to cook me a love menu?’
‘Never.’
Maravan’s Recipes
Maravan’s recipes are partly inspired by Heiko Antoniewicz’s wonderful cookbook Verwegen kochen: Molekulare Techniken und Texturen (Matthaes Verlag). In the following collection of recipes, Antoniewicz has simplified the preparation and, where we thought necessary, allowed the dishes to be made with less elaborate kitchen equipment. The amounts specified for the Love Menu recipes are for a ten-course meal for two people. Those for the Promotional Menu are for four people.
The Love Menu
Mini chapattis with essence of curry leaf, cardamom and coconut oil
Urad lentil ribbons in two consistencies
Ladies’ fingers curry on sali rice with garlic foam
Poussin curry on sashtika rice with coriander foam
Churaa varai on nivara rice with mint foam
Frozen saffron and almond foam with saffron textures
Sweet and spicy spheres of cardamom, cinnamon and ghee
Glazed chickpea, ginger and pepper vulvas
Jellied asparagus and ghee phalluses
Liquorice, honey and ghee ice lollies
Mini chapattis with essence of curry leaf, cardamom and coconut oil
Mini chapattis
65g wheat flour
40ml lukewarm water
1 tsp ghee
Work the flour and water by hand into a very smooth dough, kneading for about 8 minutes. Cover the dough with a muslin cloth and leave to rest for 1 hour. With floured hands make marble-sized balls of dough. Sprinkle a work surface with a little flour, flatten the dough balls and roll them into thin rounds. Just before serving, dry fry them on both sides in a hot cast-iron pan until brown.
Essence of curry leaf, cardamom and coconut oil
100g coconut oil
9 fresh curry leaves
1 cinnamon stick, coarsely ground
Put all the ingredients for about 1 hour in a rotary evaporator at 55ºC. For the essence you can use either the distillate from the upper flask or the concentrate from the lower one. Maravan mixes the two. Drip the essence onto the chapattis using a pipette.
Urad lentil ribbons in two consistencies
200g dal lentils
150ml milk
50g yoghurt
70g rock sugar
2g agar agar
Leave the lentils to soak in the sugared milk for at least 6 hours. Blend to a fine paste. Spread half of this onto a baking sheet, cut lengthways into strips, and dry in the oven at 50ºC. Remove from baking sheet while still warm and twist into the desired shape.
Mix the other half of the paste with agar agar and heat to 90ºC. Stir in the yoghurt, then also spread thinly onto a baking sheet. Leave to cool and cut into strips of the same width as the others. Intertwine with the dried spirals before serving.
Ladies’ fingers curry on sali rice with garlic foam
Ladies’ fingers curry
10 tender okra pods (ladies’ fingers)
2 green chillies, finely chopped
1 medium onion, finely chopped
¼ tsp fenugreek seeds
½ tsp chilli powder
½ tsp salt
5-8 fresh curry leaves
50ml water
50ml thick coconut milk
Wash the okra and leave to dry or pat with kitchen paper. Cut into 3cm pieces. In a saucepan mix the okra, chilli, onion and all the spices thoroughly. Add the water and cook until almost all the liquid has evaporated. Stir and add the coconut milk. Cook for a further 3 minutes. Reduce the liquid on a low heat.
Sali rice