When the coriander plants flowered, a strong aroma would linger in the air that reminded everyone of meat curries. If there were sufficient coriander leaves, ‘mutke’ (balls) would be made. Kotmiriche Mutke is made of coriander leaves, jowar, gram and wheat flour, soaked gram dal and green chilli chutney. The dough is shaped into balls using fists, before being steamed. A seasonal dish of Dalits in the Marathwada region, Kotmiriche Mutke is not fried as oil is considered a luxury for the poor in India.
Kotmiriche Mutke | Photo Credit: Special arrangement
If you have studied the history of food and recipes, you will know that they are closely linked to day-to-day chores. An identity marker of a community, food plays a significant role in social and cultural spaces.
Shahu Patole | Photo Credit: Special arrangement
There are many explanations like this in Dalit Kitchens of Marathwada, the English version of Shahu Patole’s Anna He Apoorna Brahma, translated from the Marathi by Bhushan Korgaonkar. Originally published in 2015, it was the first to document the history of food through the culinary practices of the Mahar and the Mang, two prominent Dalit communities of Maharashtra. Patole’s book is not just a ‘cookery’ guide, it is the story of a taste acquired through centuries of discrimination. For food is an identity marker of a community and plays a significant role in the social and cultural spaces of the people of a region.
From Lakuti to dishes made of jeebh, no part of an animal was left unused. | Photo Credit: Getty Images/istock
The die is caste
Food habits and caste cannot be separated; just as caste is cemented at birth, so is diet, says Patole. He says the Mahar and the Mang are the two main Dalit groups in Maharashtra who faced the fury of untouchability. Like many marginalised communities in India, their food habits were also rich. However, a great culinary tradition followed by these communities have been neglected due to various reasons.
Bhakri with red chilli powder | Photo Credit: Special arrangement
Patole documents the primary diet and a few recipes of these two communities, looking at the way they evolved. From Lakuti (a dish prepared from the blood of a slaughtered animal) to dishes made of jeebh (tongue), fashi (epiglottis), mendu (brain), kalij (liver), boka (kidney), dil (heart), tona (bones), gana (windpipe), bal and mand (fat), kaas (udder), aand (testicles), paaya (hooves) and wajadi (intestines), no part of an animal was left unused. Each portion had a recipe. Even the scrap of an animal was not wasted. For example, burning a shingat (horn of a dead animal) would keep the snake away. If a horn is burnt, it emits a strong odour and the snake that has entered the house flees.
Ingredients for kharda, a spicy dish | Photo Credit: Special arrangement
Busting myths
In the preface, Patole raises a pertinent question: Vegetarianism or non-vegetarianism — which one is superior? He says those who claim that ‘vegetarianism is the supposed way of the human diet’ win the debate because there are no proponents or staunch supporters of non-vegetarianism. “Our Indian socio-cultural identity only highlights the food culture of the upper-castes and upper-classes. This hasn’t changed even today. A vegetarian diet is recommended to create harmony among different communities, allowing vegetarians, often upper castes, to dominate the scene. No one ever talks about our food culture, which is why I had to use the term ‘Dalit Kitchens’,” says Patole, adding that, “even today, meat-eating lower-castes feel ashamed and guilty about their food habits.”
Patole writes about the Mangs and the Mahars of Marathwada, as he was born and brought up there. “This is the story of the food my parents ate and their parents ate — an acquired taste, especially one acquired through centuries of discrimination,” he says. Why did he document the food habits of the two communities? “I have taken this task of documentation to ensure that our future generations are aware of their past. They should know what we ate, how we lived, and the treatment we received in society,” says Patole, a retired government officer and a writer in Marathi. In addition to the communities from northern Maharashtra, these food habits are noticed in northern Karnataka and some parts of Telangana.
Shahu Patole’s book is not just a ‘cookery’ guide, it is the story of a taste acquired through centuries of discrimination. | Photo Credit: Getty Images/istock
Spreading the net wide
When Shahu published Anna He Apoorna Brahma, the book evoked tremendous response. His friends wanted the book to be published in English but he never pursued it until he received a call from a leading publisher in 2021. “Many upper-caste, upper-class people from other regions and those living abroad will realise that there are more traditional beef eaters among Hindus than Muslims in India. No one has ever addressed this aspect about Hindu religion before, which compelled me to write about it,” says Patole. Although the title mentions Marathwada, it covers a few more regions, such as northern Maharashtra, parts of Vidarbha, Telangana, north Karnataka, and western Maharashtra. “The title may seem geographically limiting because it’s impossible to cover all these regions in a single phrase. I didn’t want to call it pan Maharashtra either, as it includes areas outside the State — also the coastal Konkan region is significantly different. Including it would have been misleading and could cause disputes in the future,” he says.
Bhakri or jowar flatbread | Photo Credit: Getty Images/istock
For the Mahar and the Mang, bhakri (flatbread) made of jowar or bajra is central to their everyday meal. Bhakri made of yellow jowar, a crop grown during the monsoon, was also eaten but children never liked it because of its bitterness. A special dish made of Moholachi poli (honeycomb) tastes good with bhakri.
A separate chapter deals with the culinary tradition within the literature of saints in the region. “An individual’s eating practices played a vital role in determining their social status — governed by what they ate and what their ancestors ate. Even today, there is no significant difference in this. Food culture seems to be firmly aligned along caste and class divides,” writes Patole, a native of Khamgaon, a village in Osmanabad district of Maharashtra. In the past, he has talked about how the communities he grew up in had to clear carcasses of dead animals and eat that flesh.
Although the title of the book mentions Marathwada, it covers a few more regions, such as northern Maharashtra, parts of Vidarbha, Telangana, north Karnataka, and western Maharashtra. | Photo Credit: Getty Images/istock
This doesn’t imply that the Dalit diet comprises only non-vegetarians dishes. Patole includes a long list of dishes made with vegetables and pulses which were once popular in the region, like pithala (a delicacy made of dal flour), kandavani (onion chutney), usal (curries made of legumes), hula (roasted pods), pendapala (made of toor dal), and dal-kanda (dal and onions). There is also a list of recipes for seasonal and all-season vegetables: tarvat (a rainy season leafy vegetable) and various all-season vegetables like hagarya ghol (purslane), paathari (country dandelion), rajgira (amaranth), tekale (mushrooms), dodya (unripe figs), chigur (flowers of tamarind) and methi (fenugreek) to name a few. “In the olden times, the people’s main diet was bhakris made of jowar and bajra. Chapati, poli and puran poli (a delicacy made of wheat, chana dal and jaggery) were not prepared on a daily basis; they were reserved for special occasions or for special guests,” he says. There are 12 chapters and the last one deals with the 1972 famine and its impact on the rural food culture of Marathwada.
Radish pods | Photo Credit: Special arrangement
Patole said he didn’t have to conduct any formal research. “I have simply penned my observations since childhood. I have experienced and prepared each and every recipe and other things mentioned in the book,” he says. However, he read some great books in Marathi such as Leelacharitra, Dnyaneswhwari, Dnyaneshwaranche Abhanga and Tukaram Gatha to understand more about the food culture of the region. “For the chapters on literature of our saints, I read extensively, which you could consider my research,” he adds.
Some loss in translation
The Marathi version of the book had proverbs, slangs and usages which made the job of the translator difficult. Bhushan Korgaonkar, who translated the book into English, says “it was challenging in many ways.” “First, I wasn’t well versed with the food culture of this region as I was born and raised in Mumbai. My parents are from Konkan and Goa, so even my vacations or other travels rarely took me to Marathwada. Second, I had never seen the equipment, processes and customs described in the book. Third, the book contained many rooted Marathi proverbs and sayings that were difficult to convey in a different culture. To overcome these difficulties, I spent time with Shahu and his family in his village, observed most things firsthand and then started working on the book,” says Korgaonkar, who is a multilingual writer, director and theatre producer.
Dalit Kitchens of Marathwada; Shahu Patole, translated by Bhushan Korgaonkar, HarperCollins, ₹499.
The reviewer is a freelance journalist based in Chennai.
