THE
MEAT SAFE
Memory is a funny thing. It
takes you back into the past and more often than not, evokes a strain of
nostalgia that harks back to days of innocence and wanton abandon, days when
everything looked big in the eyes of a child, days of simple needs and even simpler
technology.
Memory quite stealthily
surfaced upon me this morning and from somewhere within the deep recesses of my
mind, from somewhere in the quiet country air of three decades ago, from
somewhere in the psyche of an Anglo-Indian childhood, memory brought unto me
the word “meat safe’ as I tossed and turned in bed trying to catch a little
more shut-eye.
The tossing and turning
might have partly been due to the fact that two days ago, in a fit of impatient
defrosting, I quite adeptly managed to puncture the tubing in our fridge
causing the refrigerant to leak with a viciously serpentine hiss. The luxury of
refrigeration would now have to wait for Monday morning as sleepy little Ndola
does very little over the weekend. And as I wondered about food storage for the
next day or two, the image and the word floated in on the wings of memory.
“The meat safe: must be an
Anglo-Indian thing,” I said to myself. “Can’t be exclusively Anglo-Indian,”
another part of me replied. “But, I have seen it mostly – only? - in Anglo-Indian homes”, the alter ego
replied almost immediately. “Perhaps it is a colonial thing,” retaliation was
instant! This mental “tossing and turning” far more strenuous than the physical
one, and with much greater force as well, had tossed me out of bed and
propelled me straight to the laptop.
Why not do the obvious?
Let’s google the word. And I immediately went to the world’s most trusted
source of information since 2001, hoping to see the ubiquitous Wikipedia rank
high on the list in response to my query.
How disappointed I was! No
Wikipedia entry. But, wait the images offered did strike a chord and I scrolled
down the page with some anticipation. Disappointment again. “Is meat safe when
I am pregnant?”, “Is red meat safe for children?”, “Detect DNA in horse meat!”
are some of Google’s responses on its first page!
There was one reference
though, near the top of the page: the free online dictionary which stated that
it was a safe for storing meat. How mundane and unimaginative, but then,
dictionaries do not offer you imagination. They offer straightforward
definitions, in black and white. Life – and experiencing it as much as you can
– offers imagination in a plethora of colours! And with that, I abandoned any
queries on the meat safe and decided to put myself to memory’s mercy and
conjure up my real meaning of the meat safe.
Tucked in the left-hand
corner of our dining room, it stood there proudly, its legs nicely balanced on four
square cement blocks that carried moats of water within them. The wood always
smelled warm and delicious while the mesh provided a nice view of the different
goodies in its three tiers of fresh warmth. I remember my brother and I taking
turns to fill the moats of water around all four legs.
“Don’t spill the water,
now,” Mum-Mum would say.
“But, why do you fill these
holes with water?” I would ask, curious as usual.
“So that the ants and
insects don’t climb up and eat the food,” Papa would say gently.
Knowledge would dawn on our
faces and we’d continue eagerly. Today, as memory brings back that
conversation, I can smell the dankness of the water as it filled up the moats.
That is my meaning of a meat safe.
The mesh, I was later told,
was not actually meant so that wide-eyed children could come back from school
and gaze into the meat safe to see what goodies were in store for the night. It
was meant to circulate air inside and ventilate the meat safe so that it was
cool enough. It also prevented flies and other insects from flitting about those
delicious treats. That is my meaning of a meat safe.
Memory now reminds me of
those Sunday afternoons when all was quiet and the household would be having a
little lie-down. Quietly, my brother, Mark and I, would sneak up to it and open
it up to dig our hands into the jars of jaggery stored on the bottommost shelf.
That was as far as we could reach back then. Often, someone else would join us
on these afternoon quests: Papa. More stealthily than we imagined ourselves to
be, he would dig into those jars and hand over chunks of jaggery quietly
whispering, “Don’t tell anyone, ok?” Happy and excited to have an adult partner
in crime, we would nod vigorously. That is my meaning of a meat safe.
(Eventually, a key went into it and Memory is presently not forthcoming in
letting me know if we ever found that key!)
The fridge was there, of
course. I do not know when it was acquired, but I was still a very wee lad, for
I remember it was on the opposite end of the meat safe. Still, for all its
‘luxurious’ properties the fridge could not rival the meat safe. For on top of
that antiquated piece of furniture were tins: bread tins, cake tins, biscuit
tins, all types of tins. The tin that received a lot of attention from yours
truly was the “appalam” tin. Just before lunch, now and then, I would get a
little stool and jump up to grab an appalam or two when no one was around.
Getting to it was a tricky business, for if only the tin slipped out of my
hands as I stood on tip-toe there would be scattered evidence of my crime. And
that is something I did not want, did I? That is my meaning of a meat safe.
Christmas time was extra
special. Memory informs me of eager little children licking empty bowls of cake
mixture that had just been sent to the baker or, later on, put in the oven. And
as she (memory) brings such a warm family picture to mind, she also reminds me
of those cul-culs, rose cookies and marzipan that the meat safe would proudly
store ready for guests who dropped in for a visit during the Christmas season.
Yes, Christmas was always busy and as I remember the neighbourhood uncles and
aunts who visited us during Yule Tide, I also remember trips to the meat safe
to fill up plates and bowls of festive cheer. That is my meaning of a meat
safe.
As I grew older, the meat
safe became a place for coffee and tea. It became a place of more modern
mass-marketed crisps and cookies. It became a place from which we would serve
ourselves lunch and dinner. It became a place from which I would serve my now
aging grandmother lunch, dinner and soup. Of course, trips to the fridge became
more frequent and slowly, the meat safe wasn’t as exciting as it used to be.
Yet, it still stood there, an antiquated, but proud piece of furniture. That is
my meaning of a meat safe.
The meat safe, I am sure, was
definitely a part of Anglo-Indian iconography during my generation and preceding
ones as well. Given the modern technology around us, though, it is close to, if
not already at extinction. Whether the meat safe offered others like me some
sort of meaning in their childhood, I do not know. Whether it has now become a
repertory of childhood memory spontaneously recollected in adulthood, I do not
know. Whether the meat safe that I have alluded to throughout this piece still
exists, I do not know. Whether it has been confined to the scrap heap is also a
question I cannot answer, for since I left home nearly two decades ago to forge
my own life, the pressures and concerns of adulthood put that childhood love
affair far away from my mind: until today. One thing I do know: it will
continue to be a tangible part of my life! Why? Simply because today, it is the
‘safe’ of an enchanted childhood, one that I was privileged to receive from
doting grandparents in quaint and quiet little Arkonam. That is my meaning of
the meat safe.
For an hour now, I have been
consumed with the meat safe; a significant amount of time, I’d say given my
last encounter with it was ages ago. But, then memory does funny things,
doesn’t it? It looks at childhood experiences from an adult perspective and
offers a sense of warmth and comfort. No, I do not want to go back into the
past and yearn for the good old days; no, I do not want to go out and acquire
an antiquated meat safe; no, I do not want to become a child once more. I want
to walk around today and conjure up images of the meat safe as I go about my
daily chores. Why, you may ask? Simply because, the meat safe informs the adult
me about the child I once was. That is my meaning of the meat safe.
Glossary for words that might seem strange:
Mum-Mum: Our word from grandmother. Given the double Mum it makes sense!
Papa: The Anglo-Indian term for grandfather.
appallam: A fried snack. Often called a Pappadum.
cul-culs, rosecookies: Anglo-Indian snacks made at Christmas time.
7 comments:
Alister,
That was a lovely article that took me back in time down memory lane to yester years.
Another vintage bit of furniture was the Expense Box or Provision Box....where most cooking ingredients were stored.....including green mangoes tucked under the rice so as to hasten its ripening
Love you articles, keep them flowing
Brian D'Cruz
Alister,
That was a lovely article that took me back in time down memory lane to yester years.
Another vintage bit of furniture was the Expense Box or Provision Box....where most cooking ingredients were stored.....including green mangoes tucked under the rice so as to hasten its ripening
Love you articles, keep them flowing
Brian D'Cruz
Thanks Alister, for yet another lovely article. It truly brings back memories of a certain naughty kitten of mine (Timur by name!)who would by hook or by crook, knock off the lock and eat up cutlets, crumb chops and fried fish whenever mum cooked these:) I too had a partner-in-crime, a grandaunt, who used to hand out jaggery and other goodies to me in the quiet hours of the afternoon. My mum has retained the beloved old meat safe and provision box and still uses them .
Do keep writing. Cheers!
Love Viv
Hi Viv
Would it be possible to post some pictures of an Expense Box...for posterity. I searched google with no luck....The one you have must be the last few around..Tried to explain to the kids, but they would never understand till they see pictures of it.
Cheers
Brian D'Cruz
Melbourne
Sure Brian, next time we go to Chennai, will take a shot and post it to you .
Ali , I enjoyed reading both the articles. We still have chest of drawers at home. It was my grandmother's. After her death we found so many memories and items she cherished,from 1 paisa coins to hankies that smelt of her perfumes to rosaries.
We had a meat shelf also at home in Chennai.It was given to us by our Anglo Indian friend.we get to see a lot of these things here in Coonoor because there are a lot of Anglo Indians here.
It was really interesting reading .I even read it aloud to my husband
Judy
Thanks Judy. Sorry for the delay in replying. I have been inundated with work.
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