Annapurna’s Bounty by Veena Gokhale

“Unity without monotony, diversity without disorder — that is the secret of a perfect menu.” This anonymous French proverb, apparently common in culinary schools, could well be the guiding principle of Annapurna’s Bounty by Veena Gokhale, journalist, novelist, ngo worker, literary entrepreneur and, now, author of this creative and original book. Combining many different forms of myths, stories, folktales, and other, more realistic narratives, largely set in India, Gokhale spices these—literally—with a rich array of carefully detailed recipes selected to illuminate a component of the preceding story.

Like the stories, the recipes wonderfully balance unity with diversity. Uniformly vegetarian or vegan, they are also uniformly rich with spices—primarily coriander, cumin, and turmeric, but almost as commonly, garlic, ginger, pepper, cardamom, and, intriguing for western readers, asafoetida. Other surprises, though—fenugreek, mint, garam masala, rosewater, goda masal, curry leaves amongst them—add intriguing variations. The impact of the recipes is deepened by the fact that not only does the author linger in her descriptions over each stage of the cooking and serving, but also, for those new to subcontinental cooking, she adds helpful notes.

The stories themselves are likewise uniformly fragrant with colourful details of cooking and food. The most hypnotizing is an elaborate banquet, beginning with “crispy sabudana wadas, savoury tapioca fritters with flecks of green chili” and ending only a full, mouth-watering, page later. The differing roles that food plays across the stories reveal much of a universal human drama. Whether alleviating famine, offering generous nourishment for the devout, demonstrating hospitality, crowning a celebration, or providing medicinal power, food is more than incidental.  When one narrator says, “My grandmother has announced prayer time, followed by supper,” and adds, “I know I will find comfort in both,” his words point to the very core of the book.

The linking of “Supper” and “prayer” in this quotation is a reminder that, as much as India is famed for its food, it is also famed for its spirituality. More to the point, the conjoined principles of unity and diversity are nowhere more evident than in the way that so many different religions and religious figures are woven through the stories.  As we might expect of a book centred in India, some whole stories are alive with such important Hindu gods as Krishna and Shiva. However, in the course of the ten narratives the author embraces the full variety of Zoroastrians, Muslims, Jains, Buddhists, and Sikhs.

More important, Gokhale repeatedly sews the narratives with words of deep spiritual purpose. Thus, for example, a follower of Siddhartha Guatama in one story says, “Attachment to the notion of permanence, in any shape or form, can only cause suffering,” while in another Shiva says, “Only consciousness matters.  Spirit. Soul. Mind.  Everything else is of no importance.” Perhaps, though, amongst the range of such assertions, it is Guru Nanakji, founder of Sikhism—whose “vision was vast, his consciousness all-encompassing”—to whom Gokhale gives most weight. He not only profoundly influences a Brahmin friend, but speaks with elevated authority when he says, amongst other things, “share what you have with others, and love all living beings. Then salvation will be yours.”

Beyond this range of specific religious principles, though, Gokhale repeatedly gives unifying moral heft to her stories by underlining the principles of wisdom and knowledge.  In “Parvati Bai and the Bandits”, for example, the astute Parvati halts  threatened violent attacks not with counter-violence, but with respectful gestures—and delicious food.  Likewise, in “The Emperor Who Loved Mangoes”,  Moghul Emperor Akbar shows a wisdom reminiscent of Old Testament Solomon, in bringing true justice to two neighbours feuding over a mango tree.  In “Three Grains of Mustard”, a woman deranged with grief, is brought gradually to accept her loss through the wisdom of Siddhartha and the task he gives the woman. 

In her “Afterword,” Gokhale reveals the way in which she “started reimagining” her stories, combining research with, among other things, “beloved stories I had encountered as a child”. It is within one of her stories, “Land of Milk and Sugar”, though, where she most memorably shows the power of her multi-hued book.  Here, the first person narrator, orphaned and a stranger in a strange land, sees  “all human experience intertwined”, so that “we gain something from every story, whether it is ancient or of our time, commonplace or fantastical. These skeins connect past, present, and future, spreading across worlds earthly and celestial”.  

It is the two principles about which this narrator speaks, that strike most to the heart of the book—the huge variety of experiences on the one hand and, on the other, the linking connections amongst them. Like the best gourmet chef, she has discovered the “secret of the perfect menu.”

Theo Dombrowski

Born on Vancouver Island, Theo Dombrowski grew up in Port Alberni and studied at UVic and later in Nova Scotia and London, England. With a doctorate in English literature, he returned to teach at Royal Roads, UVic, and finally Lester Pearson College in Metchosin. He also studied painting and drawing at Banff School of Fine Arts and UVic. He lives at Nanoose Bay. Visit his website here.