On March 11, I had the pleasure of meeting Pete Carcione, president of the Golden Gate Produce Terminal and owner of Carcione’s Fresh Produce, and experienced a wonderful visit and glimpse into the busy activities of the wholesale produce warehouses at the Golden Gate Produce Terminal.

Pete’s family has been in the produce business for over 90 years, starting with his grandfather who came to America as a teenager and opened a small produce store in San Francisco.  You may also remember Pete’s father Joe Carcione, who hosted snippets of advice and tips for fruits and vegetables on television in the 1980’s. Joe also wrote a newspaper column, published two books, and was syndicated on about 80 television stations nationwide for his television and radio spots.

The family legacy continues through Pete Carcione, whose wholesale produce business has been supplying fresh, high quality fruits and vegetables for 35 years to over 400 stores and restaurants throughout northern California.

Pete is currently in the process of re-publishing one of his father’s books,  The Greengrocer Cookbook which is currently out of print but appears to still be in popular demand,  and I am so honored that some of the recipes from my book The Deity Diet are going to be featured in the upcoming release of The Greengrocer Cookbook.

As I drove through the gates of the Golden Gate Produce Terminal, I was absolutely amazed at the size of it – multiple wholesale produce distributors in huge warehouses spread out over 17 acres and 200,000 square feet – filled with farm fresh produce of fruits and vegetables, literally from floor to ceiling, spread out into the street – boxes and boxes of delicious, colorful oranges, apples, Swiss chard, rhubarb, crates of beans, avocados, pineapples, and mangoes from local farms and countries as far away as France and Chile.

It was an art just dodging the forklifts beeping and moving about while they load the shipments on trucks destined for local grocery stores and restaurants. By 9:30 AM most of the activity had slowed down as trucks took off for their deliveries.

I tasted succulent, crunchy baby cucumbers, and sampled fragrant, juicy Mandarin oranges that were dripping with sweetness. I learned about the Name,  (pronounced “Nami”) a tuber which looks like an oversized potato but filled with antioxidants and vitamins, and how to pick the best mangoes (but that is another blog post).

I was pleasantly surprised to find out that the produce terminal is not just for business customers but is open to the general public as well. It is located near the San Francisco International airport at  131 Terminal Ct, South San Francisco, CA.

So the next time you are out and about you may want to drop in – maybe you will be lucky enough to pick up a fresh box of sweet, juicy Mandarin oranges for a lot less than what you will pay at your local grocery chain.

Until next time, here’s to your abundant living!

Connie Umbenhower

Part II (For part 1, please refer to my Jan 7^th blog post)

Painting of Mumtaz Mahal

Though only fourteen years of age, Arjumand was stunning, and it was clear she could not lack for suitors.  Arjumand’s thick hair was the color of the midnight sky and reached down to her waist.  Her charcoal-colored eyes mesmerized him with unimagined and unspoken promises in their depths.  Her golden skin was smooth and her lips red and full.  She moved with such grace that she seemed to float about.  And when she met his eyes ever so briefly, the prince was sure that her small smile that followed was meant for him alone.  He was right.  Arjumand herself was captivated by the attractive young prince and knew in her heart that they were destined for each other.

Though Prince Khurram was temporarily rendered speechless with Arjumand’s beauty and grace, upon his recovery he inquired as to Arjumand’s name and family.  He learned that Arjumand was born to one of the noble houses of his court, and to his amazement, was not yet engaged to any man.

As the days and weeks passed, Prince Khurram could not stop thinking about Arjumand.  At this time, he was already betrothed to two other princesses in arranged marriages by his father the Emperor, but the prince did not love or even know either of these princesses.  On the other hand, he was completely besotted with Arjumand.

Upon much reflection, he requested permission from his father, Emperor Jehangir, to marry Arjumand.  His father agreed, and with the proper review and recommendations of the astrologers and the correct alignment of the stars, Prince Khurram was betrothed to Arjumand in 1607 and their wedding date was set.

Finally, the happy day approached, and on March 27, 1612, five years later, handsome Prince Khurram, at the age of twenty, married the beautiful nineteen-year old Arjumand.

Prince Khurram favored Arjumand above all others, including his two other wives, and he showered her with love and affection.  To the great delight of their subjects, Arjumand was just as in love with him as he was with her.  The prince broke all tradition by being with her as much as possible, and the two were inseparable.  The prince loved to bestow upon his bride unusual and beautiful gifts from all over the kingdom, but one gift he gave her was more than a mere object, more than even just a symbol of his love for her.  Rather, it represented not only the special place she held in his heart, but also her place in their kingdom, and the love of the Court and its subjects for her – a new name.  From now on she would be known as Mumtaz Mahal, which meant “Chosen One of the Palace.”

The years passed and eventually Emperor Jehangir died. Prince Khurram became the new emperor on February 4, 1628 and from that time became known as Shah Jehan.

Shah Jehan ruled with Mumtaz Mahal by his side.  Mumtaz was renowned for the major role she played in her husband’s monarchy. Her wisdom was legendary and she became his counselor, companion and partner and it was said, a critical advisor as he ruled his kingdom. Their combined intelligence and astute judgment created a monarchy at this time that was comparable to no other.

Mumtaz Mahal was the only one of Shah Jehan’s wives to bear him children.  During their nineteen-year marriage, she bore him fourteen children.  However, only seven of their children survived infancy.

In 1631, Shah Jehan readied himself for battle against the warlord of a neighboring kingdom; a battle that he guessed would last for many months as the enemy was a fierce one. Normally, Mumtaz accompanied the emperor to his battles, staying at a nearby palace, but she was pregnant with her fourteenth child at the time and the palace physicians did not recommend travelling in her condition. Despite the circumstances however, Mumtaz, who was strong in body and in mind, insisted on going along as she normally would and Shah Jehan was unable to deny her request.

While Shah Jehan led his army into battle, his wife Mumtaz stayed at a royal harem a few hours away. When her time came, she went into labor and gave birth to a baby girl at the harem. A messenger brought word to the emperor that he had a healthy daughter and that the queen was tired but doing well. Since the news was good, the shah decided he would wait until morning, when he would leave his troops and set out for the harem to visit Mumtaz and their new daughter.

After an exhausting but triumphant day on the battlefield, the emperor was readying himself for a few hours sleep before his journey to see his queen, when he received some disturbing news. It looked like Mumtaz had taken a turn for the worse and was in very serious condition.  The harem physicians recommended that he get there as quickly as possible to see his wife.

Immediately, Shah Jehan left the camp with his bodyguards, riding as fast as they could into the early hours of the morning. When he arrived at Mumtaz’s bedside, he was shocked and terrified to see her so weak and pale, and deep in his heart he feared that she would not make it past morning. This fear was worse than anything he ever encountered, even during his most fierce battles. How would he make it without her by his side?

For the next few hours, Shah Jehan held his beloved Mumtaz in his arms until, in the early hour of dawn, she breathed her last faint breath.  As he lay by her side, his heart heavy and breaking, his world turned dark with sorrow and pain, only the gods knew that Shah Jehan would never be the same man again.  His spirit and love of life had died along with Mumtaz. She was all of 38 years old.

It was said that following his wife’s death, Shah Jehan was so heartbroken, that he locked himself in his private chambers where all the people in the palace heard were cries of anguish.  When he finally emerged days later, he declared a mourning period throughout the kingdom.

After his first year of sorrow and pain, Shah Jehan commissioned the building of the mausoleum – the Taj Mahal – for his beloved bride and wife. The building of Mumtaz’s tomb started in 1632, one year after her death.  It took twenty-two years to build and twenty thousand laborers. It is spread over forty-two acres on the banks of the River Yamuna near the city of Agra and was designed in such a way that no further addition or alteration to it would be possible.

The Taj Mahal was built on a raised square platform of 186 feet by 186 feet. The central dome was fifty-eight feet in diameter and 213 feet in height. There are four minarets, one at each corner of the Taj at a height of 162.5 feet each.

Deep inside the mausoleum are the actual crypts containing the bodies of the emperor and the queen, while the two marble tombs above them are the two false tombs viewable to the general public.

Enormous quantities of white marble and sandstone were brought in from different areas of the Munhall empire. Precious stones from different parts of the emperor’s kingdom and beyond were brought in to adorn the walls and ceilings – pearls, diamonds, emeralds, sapphires, jade and more.

According to art historian Shobita Punja, “as you walk closer to [the Taj Mahal], its magnificence just takes over. Reflected in a long pool is the mausoleum in all its majesty. The dome floats two hundred and fifty feet into the sky, its simplicity and proportions perfect, subtle variations in the veined marble creating changes in color with every mood of the heavens. Four minarets frame the space like the setting of a jewel”
“The sky forms a curtain to the Taj,” Shobita further adds. “It’s the backdrop. At night, when the sky is black, this little marble jewel box stands glistening in the moonlight; in the early morning, when the sky is pink and orange, the white marble reflects those colors; and at sunset it has a completely different look. So the sky is as important as any other physical detail around the Taj. And the way it’s set on that platform, standing up against the huge expanse of sky, it seems as though they were evoking a sort of heavenly curtain to play a part in the scheme of things…. That’s why it’s so perfect. It’s a symbol of perfect love and of great beauty.”

The years went by and Shah Jehan never took on another wife but continued to rule his kingdom in peace for another 26 years until he became seriously ill in the year 1657. At that time, he had five sons, the youngest of which was Aurangzeb. Aurangzeb wanted the throne and for almost two years he fought his four brothers until he had eliminated all of them. In 1658, Aurangzeb declared himself emperor and imprisoned his father at the Jasmine tower of the Red Fort in Agra.  Aurangzeb imprisoned Shah Jehan for eight years at that tower.

From the shah’s chambers there, he would gaze daily at Mumtaz’s beautiful tomb across the river Yamuna.  He would remember the love they shared, the love which he knew even death could not contain.

After he died in 1666, he was buried in the inner crypt of the Taj Mahal, next to his beloved Mumtaz, the two lovers together at last for all eternity.

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I would like to provide my guests the opportunity to interact and give back to the local communities in India they visit during their Himalayan Boot Camp journeys. I truly believe that it can be a rewarding experience if one has brightened the life of someone less fortunate in the community one left behind after the vacation is over.

I am thinking of providing this interaction at a couple of the local schools that cater to the more impoverished children. Here are just a couple of my ideas for my guests:

1. Take 3-4 books and have a storybook session with the children. The local children will love this!
2. An afternoon of crafts with the children using supplies we take from here that those children have never seen and can take home with them (paper dolls, painting etc – the possibilities are endless)
3. Distribute some clothes (T-Shirts?) and have some afternoon refreshments and snacks.

These are just small things but they are a start. I grew up in this area of Meghalaya, India and know exactly how much brightness this will bring to the children. I am not sure where this idea will take me but I just have this gut feeling that both the givers and receivers of this kindness will be so blessed and the memories will be amazing.

Please provide feedback – tell me what you think. I also welcome any additional ideas you may have.

Here’s to a brighter world for children!

Connie

The poor man had never met so many relatives. Nor had he been what I consider so fortunate as to taste so many kinds of authentic home-made curries!

One of the most memorable aspects of that birthday celebration was, of course, the food. This was one of those Indian occasions where a wide variety of cultural delicacies was served. My Uncle Hubert, who was quite talented at making outstanding curries, volunteered to be in charge of the dinner. Uncle Hubert immediately called three of his old army buddies to assist him, along with my nephew Oliver.

They all showed up early on the morning of November 11th, my daughter’s birthday, and set out creating a commotion, banging and clanging pots and pans and utensils and ingredients, as they put together a makeshift kitchen in my grandmother’s backyard.

All day long one delicious smell after another drifted in from the backyard, until the guests began arriving and we transferred the food from the huge pots on the wood fires into serving bowls inside.

Some of the recipes for the food Uncle Hubert and his friends made that day are included in this book: Cumin Chicken, Saffron Flavored Rice Pilaf, Slow-Cooked Marinated Beef (a specialty of my grandfather’s when he was alive), Northeastern Indian Dal, Mint, Tomato and Cucumber Salad, and Daikon Salad. The food was authentic, delicious, and memorable, made from my uncle’s own favorite recipes, adjusted to fit the occasion.

My grandmother performed the ancestor blessings for my daughter’s future – the blessings for good health, peace, joy, prosperity, and abundance. Our culture considers these essential to a child’s future. My Uncle Roosevelt, as the honored Grand Uncle, added his blessings as well. My daughter probably received more blessings that day than most people get in a lifetime.

To this day my husband and I treasure our memories of that visit. We have passed them on to our daughter so she knows all about her First Birthday Indian Feast.

In the culture of Northeastern India, a baby’s first birthday is cause for celebration. We prepare a big feast for relatives, friends, and neighbors, who all gather to wish the baby well.

When my daughter was about to turn a year old, however, I was living in the United States with my American husband. Not a single Indian relative was here, and his family was so scattered about, it would have been impractical to get everyone together in one place.

We were fairly young and didn’t have much money, but I wanted so badly to take my daughter home and show her off to my family that we did what any proud modern-day parents would do: we racked up our credit cards and took off for India, baby in tow. Here is a picture of the happy baby before our trip.

At that time, I had six younger brothers and sisters still living at home, plus my mother, grandmother (sadly, my grandfather had passed away), a multitude of aunts, uncles, and cousins, and tons of old friends and neighbors.

You can probably imagine what it was like to bring an eleven-month-old baby into this lot, where the youngest child was my brother, age seven, practically ancient in comparison to his new niece. My daughter was passed around from one person to another, kissed, doted on, fed all kinds of very un-baby-like treats that I pretended not to notice, and was thoroughly spoiled.

And, of course, there was the complicated business of planning The Birthday Feast, who to invite, what to serve, how much to cook, who would cook it; and “should-we-only-have-tea-or-have-tea-and-then-later-on-dinner,” what music to play, who will provide the blessing, and so on and so forth. You would think we were planning a wedding.

By the time my mother and grandmother were through, it was almost like a wedding, with over two hundred guests. Most people in India think nothing of this – the celebration is both a feast and a religious ceremony – but to my American husband it was all a little mind-boggling.

(to be continued tomorrow)