The summer after my dad, an Air Force pilot, received the Vir Chakra (bravery award), my grandfather insisted we visit him so he could show his  son’s medals off to his cohorts in the village where he had retired. My grandpa was very proud of his progeny and, to our great embarrassment, was not modest about it. He would flaunt us to all and sundry. He was especially proud of his grandkids: he would line us up like the kids in “Sound of Music” and we would all stand there in teen akwardness, squirming, as he embellished our achievements to his friends.

We traveled for over 2 days by rail and car to reach the arid little village deep down south. It was sweltering hot and dusty. The only water source in the village was the Kaveri river, which flowed in fits and starts depending on the rain fall. The house where my grandfather lived did not even have a ceiling fan. It was a typical village house, with its “thinnai” (concrete bench in front) where all the old, toothless, pan-chewing, retired cronies of my grandfather would gather to gossip every evening. The only amusement that my sisters and I had during that visit was the large swing that graced the living room. Each of us raided my grandfather’s huge library of old books and would drape ourselves on the swing, lazily reading all day long. We weren’t allowed to go the river on our own, and we had no friends there, so we spent each day reading, or bickering with each other, if we got too bored.

My grandfather had a cook who prepared the meals so we did not even have the distraction of helping in kitchen to keep us occupied. The cook made standard fare for each meal: rice, sambar, and vegetables. Even the vegetables that were available in that little village that summer were standard fare: potatoes, tomatoes, green chilis and “kovakkai” (also called “Tindora” or “Ivy Gourd”). Only these vegetables could withstand the extremely hot climate and survive with very little watering. So, it was Kovakkai for lunch nearly every day.

If we complained about the lack of variety, my grandpa would regale us with long, imaginative stories which always ended with a moral. In this case, the moral of the story was the health benefits of this hardy vegetable. According to grandpa, the Kovakkai was a fountain of nutrients and a great vegetable for lowering blood sugar levels for persons with mild diabetes. Not all grandpa’s nutritional information turned out right, but Diabeteshealth.com, has validated his theory about Ivy Gourd. Ivy Gourd is a good source of beta-carotene, protein and fiber. Studies show that while it has the capacity to reduce blood sugar levels if consumed regularly, it has no adverse side-effects.

And so it is – my memories of that summer are filled with the aroma of curried Kovakkai, the sight of half-naked urchins splashing in the flowing Kaveri river, the thrill of rooting through dusty old books and the teen bashfulness of being dragged out to be presented to grandpa’s old cronies and sundry villagers!

In grandpa’s honor, here is the recipe for Curried Kovakkai. Very easy-to-make and an unfailing favorite.

Here is what you need:
2 lb Kovakkai (Tindora or Ivy Gourd) (buy them fresh, green and tender)
1/2 tsp black mustard seeds
1 tsp salt
1 tsp turmeric powder
1 tsp red chili powder
3 tbsp olive oil

Here is how you make this:
Wash the kovakkai thoroughly. Slice into thin slices as shown in the picture. When you slice them, they should be green inside. If any of the Kovakkai’s have ripened and is red inside, set it aside – it wont taste good in the curry.

Heat oil in a pan. When the oil is hot, add the mustard seeds. Wait for them to crackle and add the sliced Kovakkai. Sprinkle salt, chili powder and turmeric powder. Lower the heat and roast on a slow flame, nearly for half hour or more until cooked crisp. Turn regularly.

Serve hot with rice and rasam or rice and unsweetened yogurt.

As a young child growing up in a South Indian Brahmin household, it was not surprising that I was reared to be a vegetarian, save for an odd serving of eggs, once in a while. We were considered a “progressive” brahmin family because my father ate eggs and my mother cooked them. But eggs aside, our diet was completely vegetarian with each meal having generous servings of vegetables. As my mother set the table for the family meal everyday, my father would sit at the head of the table, (with our beloved Labrador drooling at his feet for slyly dropped tidbits) and regale us with stories about any topic that struck his fancy that day.

The stories would meander through ancient history, Hindu epics, current events and life in general. Sometimes as he spun his yarn, he would suddenly cast a stern eye at whichever one of his daughters who was not eating her veggies and break off mid-sentence to lecture about health benefits of the veggie of the day.

One of those lectures was about Okra or “ladies finger” as it is called in India. My dad, with no real scientific study to back his proclamations, other than old, regurgitated information from his elders, would inform us solemnly that if we wanted to be smart and do well in math, we needed to eat Okra. Okra, according to my dad, was brain food!

Turns out my dad wasn’t too far off in his surmise.

Okra is known for its high vitamin B6, fiber, calcium, and folic acid, which helps prevent neural tube defects in developing fetuses. A serving of Okra contains only 25 calories, so if prepared in a low-fat recipe, it is an incredibly healthy addition to any meal.

In addition, the mucilage and fiber found in Okra helps adjust blood sugar by regulating its absorption in the small intestine. It helps reabsorb water and traps excess cholesterol, metabolic toxins and surplus bile in its mucilage and slips it out.

It is an ideal vegetable for weight loss and is a storehouse of health benefits provided it is cooked over low flame to retain its properties. This also ensures that the invaluable mucilage contained in it is not lost to high heat. Okra facilitates the propagation of good bacteria referred to as probiotics. These are similar to the ones proliferated by  yogurt in the small intestine and help biosynthesize Vitamin B complex.

Now, I know that fresh Okra is somewhat difficult to source in the US, so many people resort to buying the frozen Okra. My curried Okra recipe is made from fresh Okra. I would encourage you to try to locate the fresh Okra for this recipe since frozen Okra invariably becomes slimy when cooked.

The key point to note in cooking Okra is learning how to wash it, how to slice it thin, and how to cook it under slow fire. The recipe itself is very simple but a few missed steps can give this dish an entirely different taste. So try to follow the recipe carefully and you will soon be able to get your family to enjoy this very yummy, low fat, healthy “brain food”!

Here is what you need:
1 1/2 lbs fresh green Okra
1 tbsp Olive oil
1/2 tsp black mustard seeds
1/2 tsp turmeric powder
1 tsp salt
1 tsp red chili powder

Here is how you make this:
Wash the Okra thoroughly before chopping. Now cut the tops and bottoms off and chop into thin slices – see picture. Do not cut the slices too thick and do not wash after chopping or it will get slimy. Set aside.

In a pan, heat olive oil. When the oil is hot, add the mustard seeds. Wait for them to crackle and add the chopped Okra. Sprinkle salt, chili powder and turmeric powder. Reduce heat and roast uncovered on a slow flame until brown. If necessary, drizzle a few drops of oil around the edges of the pan as it roasts.

Remove from the stove and serve with rice and rasam or yogurt.