Traveling along the shore of the Arabian Sea in the trading city of Calicut
recently, I imagined myself as a trader in the bustling late 19th century. Calicut has, for
centuries, been the key trading city of Kerala, the Indian state on the southernmost tip of this
vast and colorful country. On my right, the cluttered beach edges the misty sea, right out of a
Vermeer painting. On my left, building after building partially hide behind tall stone walls,
remnants of the architecture of the Arab, Portuguese, and Dutch traders who sought fortune in the
trading of wood, spices, and tea.
It's late afternoon, not quite dusk, and our host has invited us to his two-story, century-old
family business office, set around a crumbling, rock-strewn quad. We drive down the same path where
sailors and tradesmen once carried huge logs of teak and other wood, crates of spices, teas, and
bolts of silks and cottons over this small stretch of road, across the rough sand of the beach to
load onto waiting boats that would end up in the Middle East, Europe, or points in between.
Inside the small, cool wood-walled rooms, closeted by sky blue painted shuttered windows, the
traders sat on stone floors of etched designs, striking their deals for majestic wood for boats and
homes. Other traders came to negotiate buys for their versions of gold: seeds of turmeric and
coriander, quills of cinnamon, pods of cardamom, pearls of peppercorns, allspice or curry leaves,
balls of nutmeg hugging the precious coral mace inside, and other costly, fragrant jewels. Still
others came to buy the dried leaves of the camellia sinensis plant which would be brewed into a
beverage called tcha, chai, and now, tea.
The rooms hold thick-hewned wooden furniture and the necessary additions of the trade: desks,
cabinets for leather-bound ledgers, and pale painted walls that smell as rich as the teas and spices
stored in nearby rooms for traders to see, taste, smell, touch before loading them up for the
journey home. Upstairs, exhausted from their months-long trip, this building was home to the sailors
who would be housed and fed here as long as it took their masters to complete their trade missions.
Today, the building is the core of the family's local business, employees still sleep and eat
upstairs while traders sit more comfortably on wooden chairs, and, just as it did one hundred years
ago, the sun still hits the now-peeling pale blue of window shutters bordering the open-space quad.
But, it is now the dawn of the 21st century, trading is more sophisticated, and the company now has
offices in Bombay, plantations of coffee and spices, and its lumber business. In a few years, this
uniquely walled center of commerce will give rise, literally, to a ten-story, contemporary office
building with lively retail shops on the ground floor, and, hopefully, an area framed by those blue
shuttered windows, a place devoted to the memorabilia of an historic style of trading.
Perhaps visitors will enjoy what we experience today: A quiet, peaceful moment sitting on benches
and chairs that have held so many international traders who risked everything to travel the arduous
routes from their homelands to India. Imagine, as we do now, the cacophony of Arabic, Dutch,
Portuguese, English, Hindi, Malalayam and other languages that filled up these rooms as they sought
to buy, sell, trade the perfumed gold of India: spices, teas, woods.
When the new building is finished, modern traders will sit down barely a minute when a discreet
servant soundlessly and graciously will serve them a small, welcoming cup of hot tea like the one we
drink this afternoon. It most likely will be the black ground tea from the 6,000-foot high peaks of
nearby Munnar, melted to a soft beige with sweetened milk, and dusted with just a hint of garam
masala, the mélange of spices grown on local spice farms as they have for millennia.
As visitors sip this masala chai, benefit from its double layers of soothing and energizing flavors,
they will no doubt enjoy our view of the red ball of the setting sun dipping into the muted colors
of the Arabian Sea dotted with boats arriving, departing, laden with the riches of Kerala.
CALICUT CHAI
If you can not travel to the exotic tropical state of Kerala, you can certainly bring a
little of its pleasures directly to you with a sip of Calicut Chai. The essence is the spices, of
course. Nothing can quite replace the aroma, taste, or romance of fresh spices, so seek them out in
Indian, Middle Eastern, or specialty food shops to create this more delicate version of masala chai.
We use whole green cardamom pods, and a whole nutmeg; fine Sri Lankan cinnamon and for a little
kick, freshly-ground black peppercorns.
INGREDIENTS:
1 whole nutmeg
3 whole green cardamom pods, crushed
1 cinnamon stick
4 heaping teaspoons black tea ( e.g. Nilgiri)
20 ounces spring water
4 ounces of whole milk, or more to taste
1 good turn of a peppermill of fresh black peppercorns, if desired
1 heaping teaspoon of sugar per serving or to taste
DIRECTIONS:
Heat water to just boiling and pour over tea leaves and steep five minutes. Sieve out
leaves and pour steeped tea into a clean saucepan and add four quick gratings each of the nutmeg and
the cinnamon, the crushed cardamom pods, and the milk. Heat through an additional three to five
minutes. Scoop out the cardamom pods, then pour scented tea into cups and add sugar and a twist of
pepper. Stir and savor. Yields four servings. Recipe easily doubles. Please feel free to adjust
spices according to your taste.
If you prefer a more delicate brew, just use cardamom; a pod or two are marvelous in a pot of fine
Darjeeling black, Nilgiri black, or Ceylon black.
