The mix-up about the dal-chawal mixup

Pushpesh Pant

After the sound and fury has subsided and the hooplah over khichdi’s designation as the ‘national dish’ of India that is Bharat is over, we can rise above parochial prejudices and political partisanship to ponder over the problems associated with cultural heritage in a land as diverse as India and the vibrant pluralism that has always been a characteristic of our syncretic civilisation. 

Khichdi is an excellent illustration of not only reflecting but also celebrating diversity. 

There is no single recipe that tickles the palate of 1.35 billion Indians. From sweet and savoury pongal in Tamil Nadu to bajra khichdi in Gujarat and Rajasthan, bhuni khichuri in Bengal to husked and split mash in the Hindi heartland, you can pick and choose what you like. In its non-vegetarian avatar there is khichdi keema from Hyderabad. 

From consecrated pure food to a delicacy verging on sinful indulgence, the rice-and-lentil duo is encountered in more than dashaavtar (10 incarnations of the God). What is intriguing is the haste to grant national importance to the humble khichdi? Even if we accept the statement of the Minister for Food Processing that there has no such plotting, it doesn’t make sense that so much energy was spent to ensure khichdi a place in the sun — in the Guinness Book of World Records. Surely, seven decades after Independence we have more memorable accomplishments in different realms of artistic and scientific creativity. 

True, culinary arts deserve to be put in the same pedestal as music, dance, literature, poetry, painting and none can deny that food production, processing and consumption is as much science and technology as anything else.

Economics and politics are entwined inextricably from farm to fork. The question that remains unanswered is that in these ‘interesting’ times why should we aggravate divisions in society by imposing a strait jacket of religious or regional identity on a recipe? Haven’t we have had enough of strife engendered by language, caste and community? 

Food, like, music and art, transcends linguistic and literacy barriers. There are prohibitions and prescriptions but we break taboos and acquire new tastes as we travel. For millennia, ingredients have travelled with soldiers and traders, pilgrims and fortune hunters, scholar-explorers. The betel leaf, now identified as typically Indian, came to this land from South East Asia more than two thousand years ago and was named nagvallari (the snake vine). 

There are few things like rice and sugarcane that can lay a justifiable claim to being hundred per cent swadeshi. What we need to ponder seriously and dispassionately is the need to brand everything with a hot nationalistic iron. Isn’t it enough to take pride in our composite culture and heritage both tangible and intangible? What Unesco has been striving to do is to make us aware that from architecture to food heritage belongs to humankind. 

Of course, we should take pride in the land of our birth but this doesn’t mean that we should shut our eyes and ears to what we owe others. Nor is it imperative to keep bragging about how our ancestors knew it all, had done it all before anyone else anywhere. This tendency to mindlessly glorify ourselves can only fetter us from reaching out for stars or explore beckoning horizons. 

There is more to our resplendent heritage than the khichdi puran. Like khichdi, the parantha too has many layers though not all of them are indigenous and as is the samosa and pulav with their foreign origins. Even the vada-pav from amchi Mumbai and publicised as quintessential swadeshi fast food favoured by the Marathi manus is not without foreign touch. The word pav is Portuguese for leavened bread and potatoes as well as chillies were brought to us from the New World. Sabudana pearls carved from taipioca root and consumed unselfconsciously on days of ritual fasting are also ‘imported’ stuff. 

Fermented foods like idli and dosa, it is believed, were inspired by cooking techniques that Indian seafarers had come across in Indonesia during the Chola Empire. Appam in Kerala is cooked on a vessel called cheena chatti suggesting that the contact with Chinese has left its mark on things other than cantilevered fishing nets. Filter kapi , an integral part of South Indian food and beverages, is made from beans that originated in Ethiopia. And, though the finest Champagne teas are grown in India, when it comes to sweets, the story is not very different. The delicate chhena-based Bengali confections — sondesh, rosogulla wouldn’t have been born had the Portuguese not taught us the art of ‘tearing milk’. It is well known that halwa came with the Arabs and jalebi appears to have mutated from jalebia and its south Indian name is a literal give away jangir from Jahangiri!

In present times can anyone deny the national identity of these delicacies? Why then single out the khichdi to bestow the special honour?

There is not a single culinary stream in our vast and varied land that can claim to have a status superior to the rest. No one recipe can do justice to our peerless gastronomic legacy. Even the humble khichdi has many avatars in various corners and nooks of India. 

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Sweet and salty

Pongal: Sweet khichdi from Tamil Nadu

This is a celebratory dish cooked at the harvest festival that bears its name; belying the belief that khichdi is only for the aged and infirm. It is also so exceptional in that it is sweet not savoury. 

Ingredients

Rice 1 cup 

Husked moong dal 1 cup 

Jaggery (crumbled) 1 cup 

Ghee 1 ½ to half cup 

Cloves 3-4

Pepper corns ½ tsp 

Green cardamom powder 1 ¼ tsp 

Raisins 2 tbsp 

Cashew nuts 2 tbsp (broken) 

Method: Dry roast lentils till these release their sweet aroma. Soak rice in water for 30 minutes. After draining, put rice and lentils in a cooker and add four cups of water along with cloves and pepper corns. Cook under pressure for two whistles. In a separate pan prepare a syrup by adding half a cup of water to the jaggery and boil it till it bubbles. Keep aside to cool. Open the pressure cooker, add the jaggery syrup to it and cook on medium flame. Mash the pongal with the back of a ladle till mushy. Fry the raisins in ghee and pour over the cooked dish. Sprinkle cardamom powder just before serving. 

Bengali bhuni khichuri

This festive dish is a must in Durga pooja pandals in Kolkata.

Ingredients

Rice 1 cup 

Moong dal 1 cup  

Bay leaf 1 

Ginger-garlic paste 1 tbsp 

Cumin powder 1tsp

Coriander powder 1tbsp 

Turmeric powder ½ tsp 

Red chilli powder ½ tsp 

Ghee ¼ cup 

Salt To taste 

Method: Dry roast the lentils till these release aroma. Soak the rice in water for 30 minutes.Heat ghee in a pan, add bay leaf, add garlic-ginger paste and stir fry till it is cooked. Now add rice after draining and lentils. Then add all powdered spices and salt.  Stir fry for two-three minutes lightly. Pour four cups of water and cook till done. This khichuri is not mushy but semi-solid.