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In mango country...
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...that is India, each community enjoys
a variety of unique mango delicacies….. the traditions, tales and recipes of
savoury preparations
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Ras nu jamanwar, Gujarat
Kids sitting cross-legged in a line
on the floor, bending forward whilst sucking on succulent mangoes with a dish
underneath to prevent messing the clothes or the floor, entails my fondest
childhood memories of summer vacations at nani’s house. Despite the
precaution, the orange pulp almost always got smeared around our lips, and in
my case, when I indulged in keri on rare occasions (I wasn’t very fond of
them), it would make its way to my legs, hair, and elbows, giving everyone
reason for a good laugh, “You’ve made your whole body eat!” On seeing my lack
of enthusiasm when the carton of mangoes would arrive at home and make
everyone’s faces light up, my grandfather would tell me, “You’re really not a
Bhula. How can you not like mangoes?” But what I looked forward to—and still
do—like the rest of the family, was ras nu jamanwar (a special meal that
complements aam ras) at our house, and once in the season at nani’s as well.
Hours of joyous yet laborious cooking go into preparing ras (made of Pairi
keri sans milk or any additions; alphonsos are only eaten cut or in
milkshakes), puris or bapdi rotli (a double roti that is opened once it
balloons fully, resulting into two thin, almost translucent ones), gunda nu
shak (fragrant manjack with stuffing of gram flour, jaggery and masalas),
fajeto (mango and curd curry) and rice. Nani’s house would also have
tindola-parval nu shaak (ivy gourd and pointed gourd sabzi with masalas and
grated coconut) and for farsan, the famous dhokla (hers are with rava, not
rice). Gujaratis have ras in many ways: plain, iced, with rice (in place of
dal) or like I love it during these meals, breaking a rotli, taking some
gunda and lots of the extra stuffing, dipping it into ras (instead of fajeto,
as most do) and enjoying the divine melange of flavours. My favourite is
ras-dhokla as dinner during the mango season. Here’s how you have it: dip hot
dhoklas into the accompanying spicy coriander chutney, then in ras and wolf
them down. This season is also the one time when my sister, famous for avoiding
dinner at home, checks the refrigerator daily for a bowl, or many, of
doodh-keri (milk mixed with hand-mashed mango pulp and floating cubes of
alphonso mangoes). Irresistible!
—Pooja Bhula
Gunda nu shaak
Ingredients
l 1/2 kg medium-sized unripe gundas
(fragrant manjack)
l 11/2 cup gram flour roasted in a
tbsp of oil
l 4 tsp dhania powder
l 4 tsp red chilli powder
l 1/4 tsp salt
l 1 cup grated jaggery
Method
Wash the gundas, remove the stalk and
hit that spot with a pestle such that it cracks. For each gunda, dip a knife
in salt, insert it in the opening, scoop out the seed and remove the glue.
Once they are deseeded and glue-free, stuff them with the roasted gram flour
(to which masalas, salt and jaggery have been added once it cools after
roasting). Keep the extra mixture aside. In a deep pan, add 1.5 tbsp oil and
stuffed gundas. Cover with a thali containing some water. Slow cook for 20
minutes. Once they soften, remove the lid and add the remaining flour mix.
Toss from time to time and slow cook for about 10 minutes, till the mixture
outside is crunchy and almost black. Serve.
Pakke aam ki sabzi, Rajasthan
Every grain of sand in the desert
region of Rajasthan seems to hold a story to amaze you. It’s no wonder then
that a simple pakke aam ki sabzi, which my Marwari friend, Chitra, recalls
her mother making at home since her teenage years, has a fascinating tale
too. “We first ate it in Surat, where my uncle had moved; it’s made in every
other house there,” she says. Turns out it’s not her family and relatives
alone who make it, but many in the Oswal community that she belongs to, as
well as others in western Rajasthan. “Rajasthanis got their supply of mangoes
from Gujarat, where it is much cherished, as this king of fruits was a
favourite corporate gift among traders in medieval times. The similarity
between Oswal and Gujarati cuisine is a result of their strong trade
relations, which led to inter-marriage and subsequently, cultural mingling,”
says Jaipur-based travel consultant and history major, Arun Pratap Singh.
Western Rajasthan is greatly influenced by the Oswals, and so, other
communities there too prepare aam ki sabzi, albeit in their own way. For
instance, while Chitra’s version is a complete vegetable in itself with ripe,
spiced alphonso slices, a granny of Singh’s friend in Pali prepares it like a
thick pulpy gravy — with the seed thrown in too — to replace dal during the
summers. It is eaten with complementing dry vegetables such as bhindi. Care
for some?
—Pooja Bhula
(Recipe by Chitra Golia Sethia)
Ingredients
l 6 alphonso mangoes
l 6 tsp dhania
l 1 1/2 tsp turmeric
l 2 tsp red chilli powder
l 2 tbsp ghee
l 1-2 tsp sugar
l 4-5 tbsp mango pulp
l Salt to taste
Method
Make vertical slits on the unskinned
alphonso mangoes, but not right till the bottom. Fill the masalas in the
slits. To a semi-deep pan, add badi elaichi (optional), all the same masalas
in the quantity you wish and some mango pulp, sugar and salt. Slow cook a bit
and then add the mangoes. Slow cook for another 10-12 minutes till the mango
skin softens enough for it to rupture with your finger. Eat with thick
chapattis.
Mango, muri, maach & more West
Bengal
Summers in Bengal are about the
nor’westers blowing petticoats off your clothesline and grandma insisting
that you bury your back in Dermicool to avoid those prickly heat rashes.
Thankfully, they are also about mangoes—creamy sweet Himsagars, full-bodied
Fazlis or the blushing Golapkhash, often accused of immoral attractiveness.
Over the years, Bengali women have
managed to involve mangoes at different stages of the meal. They have long
figured out how a smattering of raw mango in masoor dal can make the whole
family cluck their tongues in sour delight—while at the same time pacifying
their nervous Bengali stomachs. When it comes to fish, they turn to mango as
well, marrying off the humble mourola maach (mola carplet) to the king of
fruits, with a merry borjaatri (groomsmen) of mustard seeds, green chillies
and mustard oil. But the most simple, and genius, of inventions is doodh muri
aam, literally ‘milk, puffed rice, mango’ that’s soul food for children, old
folks and everyone in between. Served in wide bowls that encourage happy,
ungraceful swigs of the milk thickened by puffed rice and mashed mango pulp,
this feast can be put together faster than a Bengali can rattle off the names
of his favourite revolutionaries. Versatility being the fruit’s middle name,
doodh muri aam is enjoyed both as breakfast and dessert.
—Sohini Das Gupta
AAMDAL
Ingredients (Aam dal)
l 1 cup red masoor dal
l 1 small green mango (raw, sliced
boat-like)
l 1 green chilli (slit)
l 11/2 tsp mustard oil; 1/2 - 3/4 tsp
mustard seeds
l Salt and sugar to taste
Method
Heat mustard oil, add mustard seeds
and the green chilli. Once the seeds crackle, add the mango slices, toss and
add dal, salt and sugar (as per the mango’s size and sourness). Once it
boils, serve with steamed rice.
Mourola maach er tok
Ingredients
l 500 gm mourola fish
l 1 green mango (raw, thinly sliced)
l 11/2 tsp mustard oil; 1/2 – 3/4 tsp
mustard seeds
l 2-3 green chillies (slit)
l 1/2 cup ripe mango pulp
l Salt and sugar to taste
Method
Marinate fish with some turmeric and
salt and fry. Heat mustard oil. Add mustard seeds, let them crackle, then add
mango slices, a pinch of turmeric, green chillies, 2 tea cups of water, the
fish, salt and sugar (as per size and sourness of mango). Cook a bit. Remove
from the gas and drizzle the mango pulp. Serve with steamed rice.
Mambhazham kootan, Kerala
Back in the ‘80s when I was growing
up, in the quintessentially south Indian locality of Sion, summers had quite
a few unfailing visitors. Out of which the ‘baby mango’ seller was the most
prominent because of his unmistakable sales cry. “Vaddumangai!” he would
shout in impeccable Tamil, though he was a typical ‘kaka’ with the bright,
white dhoti and topi. Vaddumangai is the tender, green, small mango that goes
into the making of the typical mango pickle. Summer also meant the Malayali
new year Vishu, though with Mumbai as our home, Diwali was far more exciting
than Vishu. But Vishu meant that typical Kerala foodstuff would make its way
home. Occupying the pride of place was ‘Mooaandam’ mango or Trichur mango,
the main ingredient for the famous mambhazham kootan or mango curry. However,
only after marriage did I start relishing it. Here’s my mother-in-law’s
recipe:
—Sugatha Menon
Ingredients
l 1 kg fully ripe Trichur mangoes
(can be replaced with any small, sweet variant)
l 1 cup coconut, freshly grated
l 2 cups sour curd
l 2 tsp jeera
l 3-4 pieces jaggery
l 200 gm vellarikka (red cucumber
available at vendors’ selling south Indian vegetables)
l 1 sprig curry leaves
l Salt and spices (red chilli powder,
turmeric powder) to taste
Method
Skin the mangoes and cucumber. Deseed
the cucumber and chop into medium-sized pieces. Cut mangoes in large pieces,
leaving flesh on stone (seed) intact to use in the curry. Put all the chopped
pieces in a large pan, add salt and spices, a little water and cook till
evenly done. Don’t overcook. Add to it a fine paste of coconut, curd and
cumin seeds, as well as some water you would have ideally used to cleanse off
the mixie jar in which you made the yummy paste. Adjust seasoning, add
jaggery and mix well. Add stalks of curry leaf. Let it all blend well. Switch
off the gas.
For the tempering: Heat 2 tbsp
coconut oil. When hot, add mustard seeds; once they splutter, add 4 whole red
chillies, 1 tsp fenugreek (methi) seeds and 1 stem of curry leaves. Pour this
spluttering mix to the curry. Serve with steamed rice and pappadums.
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Prawn and mango curry, Goa
There’s no summer that passes in Goan
homes when we don’t look up at mango trees, lush with the raw green fruit
threatening to turn into the famed varieties of Monserrate, St Anton and
Mankurates that we pluck and transport to the kitchen.
There is a plan in mind. The popular
Goan fish curry is now ready to receive its annual benediction of a tang,
which is exactly what the raw mango does. The curry paste itself will undergo
no change whatsoever, since it is sacrosanct, but to its repertoire there
will be gorgeous slices of mangoes, with the juicy seed, floating in equal
measure with prawns or shrimps. Or sometimes, like the diva that the mango
is, all by itself. Here’s the recipe:
—Amy Fernandes
For curry paste
l 1/2 coconut, scraped
l 1 1/2 tsp coriander seeds
l 1/2 tsp haldi
l 5-6 peppercorns
l 6 red Kashmiri or Byadagi chillies,
deseeded
l 1/2 inch ginger
l 1 tsp tamarind paste
l 1 tsp raw rice
Grind to fine paste and keep aside
Other ingredients
l 1 cup shrimps (washed, deveined,
salt-sprinkled)
l 1 medium-sized raw mango (washed,
peeled and sliced
like potato wedges. Retain
the seed)
Method
Heat a tablespoon of oil and throw in
some curry leaves and a sliced tomato. Stir till it turns soft and add the
curry paste. Fry on slow heat for 3 to 4 minutes, add half a cup of water and
salt to taste, and bring to a boil. Now, add the shrimps and cook for a few
minutes before adding the mangoes. Once the shrimps and mangoes are cooked,
you’re on. Eat with steaming hot rice.
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—Pooja Bhula DNA 22MAY16
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