The serendipity of Jackfruit chips

I know not if I am more grateful for the jackfruit chips or my mother making the chips. The waft of coconut oil drowning tiny yellow specks of jackfruit is more nostalgic than aromatic to the ‘Mallu’ in me. It takes me back to the days of innocence and vacations where ‘chipmaking’ was a family festival.

Jackfruit chipmaking is perhaps a unique duo of art tangoing with supreme skill - from identifying the right jackfruit from the garden to the laborious task of slicing and plucking the right ‘chola’ leading up to the grand finale of frying and spreading! And all of us swarming around in the little kitchen to enjoy the puffy yellow chips right off the steam….

Its not about the jackfruit really but the whole exercise and bustle that brought all the inmates together – while I stood averse to the white gooey milk that oozed from the jackfruit, I was delighted to munch and crunch those heavenly chips as it still dripped with fresh coconut oil.

Closer to recent times, it was also a reminder of home and the spoils from the garden of familiarity – the prickly fruits that burst in full display from the window, the  coziness of sitting in one’s kitchen as you pop fresh chips while chatting with your mother – things we took for granted but now realize the serendipity of it all..

Grateful for the jackfruits in my new ‘urban’ apartment garden, for the comfort of a mother and the chips laced with memories and rootedness – it isn’t really about the jackfruit after all?