Vivacity

Spice it up

Pioneer

The fact that Kolhapur also produces some of the purest jaggery, and the freshest, creamiest milk and yoghurt, is somehow lost in the clamour over the pungency of the curries, says Aditya Mehendale

One wonders if the demon Kolhasura, for whom Kolhapur was named as a dying wish granted by goddess Mahalaxmi, had anything to do with the fiery food served there. The tongue-searing dishes, cooked traditionally with the lethal tiny lavangi mirchi, have given Kolhapuri food the reputation of being one of the most challenging cuisines of India. That Kolhapur also produces some of the purest jaggery, and the freshest, creamiest milk and yoghurt, is somehow lost in the clamour over the pungency of the curries.

Having grown up around spicy food, I sometimes wonder what all the fuss is about, but admit that a somewhat tempered version will allow many more to enjoy the complex interplay of spices that make up a good Kolhapuri curry, like the iconic tambda and pandhra rassas. Kolhapur is, in many ways, second home to me as my grand-aunt, Maisaheb Bavdekar, lived there. She was my culinary hero and inspiration and much of what I know about food is what I learned from her at Kolhapur, which is why I have begun this collection with Kolhapuri recipes. Kolhapur, in southwestern Maharashtra, has played an important role in the history of the state.

It was once an important centre of the Maratha empire, became the scene of battle against the Mughals, and later was absorbed into the British Empire, all of which had an influence on the food which developed into a rich cuisine with a royal lineage and an underlying hearty common touch. At my grand-aunt’s home, there was an air of sanctity around formal and celebration meals. Guests were seated cross-legged on paats (low seats). Sacred verses were chanted at the start of the meal, which was served in silver thalis (plates) and bowls placed on chowrangs (low tables).

A variety of vegetables, meats and lentils were served one after the other, with rice, bhakris (rice flatbread) or wheat chapattis and an array of chutneys and pickles, of which Kolhapuri thecha (green chilli chutney) is a favourite. Shikar (hunting) was a regular pastime, and it was common to serve wild boar, quail, partridge, venison and other game in the days before hunting was banned. In our home, non-vegetarian dishes outnumbered the vegetarian ones, especially as vegetables were cooked with a little meat or seafood to add flavour! The truth is that Kolhapuri food gets most of its flavour from the panoply of spices that go into its basic spice blend.

Kanda-lasun masala (onion-garlic spice mix) is an amalgam of a long list of spices —  roasted onion, garlic and coconut. It is what gives Kolhapuri dishes their characteristic heat and boldness. Today, the deadly lavangi mirchi is replaced with the milder byadagi or Kashmiri chilli with a few fiery Sankeshwari chillies thrown in for good measure. Yoghurt, freshly made from cow or buffalo milk, tempers the heat of some Kolhapuri dishes. Every evening, Kolhapuris wait for the cowherds to drive their cows or buffaloes through the main streets so that milk can be freshly drawn.

Dudhkatta is the name for this unique tradition, which is particularly availed of by wrestlers who practise the art of kushti (wrestling), and who drink a couple of litres of the freshly drawn milk at one go every day. Kolhapur’s other culinary contribution is its fine quality jaggery. Black smoke rising out of sugar cane fields signals that a gurhal (jaggery processing plant) is doing its work turning sweet sugar cane juice into liquid gold jaggery. Some of it is sold as kakvi, a viscous liquid not unlike honey, and the rest pressed into blocks.

All over Kolhapur you will find stalls selling fresh sugar cane juice spiked with ginger and lime, the perfect foil to the rich red curries. If you visit Kolhapur, do not miss out on the missal, a multi-textured snack of spicy sprouted bean curry, topped with chopped onions, green chillies, ginger, garlic, with a heap of crunchy spiced farsan or sev (gram flour crispies) with a sprinkling of coconut for light relief.

Excerpts from Rare Gems: A Non- Vegetarian Gourmet Collection from Maharashtra with the permission of Om Books