Tambran (Tamarind) Balls

           Tambran; the word evokes memories of stories and food from my childhood that are unforgettable. I remember the sweet and the sour tastes, the hint of pepper and garlic and all the sugar that engulfed my mouth as a child. I remember licking the melted sugar off of my fingers until I couldn’t taste any more of the delectable treat.

When I was a kid, one of the comfort foods that my mom made was Tambran (Tamarind) balls. The preparation of this treat was absolutely alien to me but it didn’t stop me from eating it until I couldn’t phantom the thought of food or even eating again. My mother has told me that it is mashed together with pepper, salt, garlic, and sugar then rolled into balls and covered in more sugar. They were so big they fit in the entirety of my tiny palms. I couldn’t have been happier with seeing it sitting in my hand waiting to be devoured.

It was a combination of both sweet and sour, but there was a savory taste to it from the garlic, salt and pepper. It was “tangy”. I loved every bit of it. It was one of those things I couldn’t wait to get home to eat. The brown balls lay on top of each other in the container mocking my tiny belly. I caved at the temptations.

Along with its flavors and joy, Tambran balls came with great stories. There are superstitions that were told about the trees of Tamarind. I remember being told that no one was allowed to be in or under a tamarind tree after noon but no one truly knew the reason for this. Many have speculated about “backoos” or ghosts but I was surely not going to find out the true  reasons.

I basked in the moment; enjoying the burn of the pepper, the sweet of the sugar, and the sour of the tambran ball. I loved finishing the treat to find a dark brown and black pattern seed that was as smooth as a wooden floor. It was as hard as a rock and one of the most fascinating things I have ever seen as a child. It was an interestingly flavored food that was a part of my culture. It was rich in flavors and history. I couldn’t think of anything better as a child than eating Tambran balls and enjoying the chills that traveled through me from the stories about my food.

I haven’t eaten a Tambran ball in quite a few years but I’m sure that the next time I taste one, I will become that little girl again; the little girl that couldn’t have enough of this treat or the stories that made me want to crawl into corners. I am also certain that the seed will still be as enticing to my curiosity as it was when I was younger.