Slurpy shakes, sizzling bhajiyas, crunchy crisps, crackling pops, pattering rain, the recess bell, a whistling cooker – these are some sounds that can evoke core food memories. In Bruite Magazine’s Sonic Seasoning project, “The Sound of Food,” Ramya talks about two such evocative food sounds, while Ashok explains the scientific reason behind why sound adds to the sensory experience of taste.
M.S. and Coffee
At 6:05 am, a quasi-Tamil household in R K Puram, has been 5 minutes into M.S. Subbulakshmi’s Sri Venkateshwara Suprabhatam.
Rajagopalan is in the garden, tending to the chaotic calabash climber. Jayalakshmi has just finished her morning bath, the length of her hair wrapped in a Turkish towel. The house has been perfumed and purified with the sambarani; and a small kolam is drawn just outside the entrance threshold, so the ants and insects can eat first.
Their two children are still striving to get out of bed and drag themselves to college. In the kitchen, the filter has been dripping decoction and Jaya has left the idli to steam and milk to boil while she lights the devotional lamp. The coffee beans were roasted and ground last evening, making the house smell like a chamber of productivity. When the elongated coffee pour from the dabara makes a frothing sound, Raja takes his place on the reclining chair, to drink up every ounce of the coffee and every inch of the gazette before he leaves for work.
The neighbourhood slowly awakens – the noises of hungry birds, morning walkers, school going children and vegetable vendors adding to the soundscape. Raja and Jaya slurp on their chicory-free coffee to the Suprabhatam still playing in the background.
No one drinks their morning coffee in this house without M.S.
The Train Tea Jingle
7:20 am at the Nagpur Junction, aboard the Gitanjali Express from Howrah to Chatrapati Shivaji Terminus, Madhumita Mandal smoothens her cotton candy hair into a quick bun. She sits crouched up on the berth, her head peeking out since the passenger on the middle berth is still fast asleep.
She takes a quick look at the unlit phone screen to fix her bindi and waits for the call. A lanky, college goer sleeping on the upper bunk across the aisle is awakened by the slowing train. The rhythmic chugging not rocking him to sleep anymore. In an abrupt groggy move, he awkwardly dangles from the ladder, makes a quick trip to the bathroom, then stands near the coach door, waiting for the call, so he can light a smoke.
The entire coach is irritably quiet. No words are exchanged between passengers and some are pretending to be asleep just to avoid eye contact and conversation. Parents with curious toddlers and preschoolers are desperately trying to make their kids sleep for a few more minutes, so they can enjoy the highlight of this journey in peace.
From the other end of the bogie, his voice finally emerges.
“Chai garam, chai garam, chai garam, chai…” The gentleman on the middle berth jumps down onto Madhumita’s seat in record time and clears the small table. The compartment has suddenly come to life with jingling coins and the fragrance of milky masala chai.
Madhumita orders two cups for herself and sits by the window, allowing the tea to better her morning personality, sip by sip. The chaiwallah’s jingle slowly fades into the background as the train starts moving and people become sociable.
He quite enjoys the transformative effect his voice has on people from every corner of this country.
How does sound add to the sensory experience of taste?
Flavour is a multisensory experience. We taste sweetness with our taste buds, smell cardamom with our noses, see ripe red fruits with our eyes, feel the silky texture of an Imampasand mango with our nerve endings and hear the satisfying crunch of a pani puri. Sound is very much a part of the flavour experience and it is part of the food memories we store.
When we encounter delicious food, it’s delicious because it evokes the nostalgia from those stored memories – and that includes sound. If your favourite bhel puri was accompanied by the noises of the street where you ate it earlier in life, just similar street sounds can make you crave bhelpuri.
This is also why the sound of the kulfi bell immediately evokes the aromas of pistachio while the sound of a tea vendor going “chaaaaai” reminds you of joyous train journeys of the past and the word “Kausalya” sung in the voice of MS Subbulakshmi immediately evokes the aromas of filter coffee.
Krish Ashok is the acclaimed author of “Masala Lab: The Science of Indian Cooking,” a book that explores the scientific principles behind Indian culinary practices. With a background in software engineering, Ashok brings a unique perspective to food science, emphasising the importance of understanding the chemistry and physics of cooking. He is also a passionate musician, known for his experiments in fusing different music styles, from Carnatic classical to rock and jazz. Ashok’s engaging approach to demystifying cooking and his ability to blend humour with scientific insights have made his work highly popular among food enthusiasts.
G Sri Ramya is the Founding Partner of Bruite Media Co. and serves as the Editor of Bruite Magazine. With over 15 years of experience as a features journalist and content professional, she specialises in research-based stories about food, textiles, and culture from the Indian subcontinent. Her work as a brand content professional involves crafting effective strategies for brands in the food, fashion, and lifestyle sectors.
Translations and detailed descriptions are provided to give a better understanding of the story to people from different cultural backgrounds across the globe.
1 comment
Superb narration, especially the dripping of decoction &MS’s suprabhatham takes me back to my childhood days.
Enjoyed so much
Thank you Mr. Krish Ashok