Locomotoring

I have loved the haunting sound of duduk for over a decade now. And it all started with a simple sleep app that played music in a loop. Along with other pleasing natural sounds, it also had duduk music. First the word got my attention. When you say the word out, it sounds like the vocalization of your heartbeat. There was no coming back once I heard the music, it is visceral and soulful and it lingers. I wonder if we really understand why music has the potential of transcending distances – the distance of time, space and culture. Perhaps it is because wind carries the music and wind connects all of us on this planet.

I immediately knew that if I could learn one musical instrument, it would be duduk. Then I learned some more about the instrument. It is played by two. One plays a continual drone, while the other develops complex melodies and improvisations. It is a double reed instrument like the oboe, known to be one of the hardest category of instruments to learn. More so if your musical skills, like mine, are limited to humming in the shower. Maybe someday I could play the drone. I listen to the music and it transports me to warm nights under the starry sky, in a landscape not unlike the Grand Canyon, arid desert land with warm earthen tones. Why?

I have recently found an Armenian culinary gem that I can love equally and is a lot more approachable for me. It is Jingalov Hats, the Armenian herb flatbread (link). It might be the Punjabi spouse who has instilled in me the love for all stuffed flatbreads. It might be my Aangan house greens that is blooming in the vegetable patch. It might be my “other half”, the gut microbiome that is the 50% of me, that likes munching on diverse sources of fiber. Lately, I have been looking at food that are plant based, low GI and gut friendly. This meets two of the three requirements – it turns out that anything with a serving of flour is not GI friendly.

The Indian in me feels the need to throw in some nigella seeds in the dough. The Californian in me likes to add some sumac for the sourness and grated lemon peel for the fresh fragrance associated with the sourness. The beet greens, mustard greens with a hint of horseradish note and red-veined sorrel used in the last batch of Jingalov Hats came from the Aangan house garden. The dandelion greens, dill, cilantro and parsley came from the farmer’s market. And, what does it tastes like? It is like freshness held together in a crispy crunch.