Of People, Plates and Palates

Passport & Plate - Forgotten recipes of the Konkan coast

India | Thursday, March 13, 2014 | 5 photos

Ingredients
For the Gul-Pohe
• Organic flattened rice flakes (pohe) - 1 cup*
• Palm jaggery (grated) - 1/2 cup
• Cardamom powder - ½ tsp
• Salt - ¼ tsp
• Fresh coconut (grated) – ½ cup
• Tender coconut water – ½ cup
For the sweet potatoes
• Sweet potatoes – 2 large
• Salt – ¼ tsp
• Oil – 1 tsp
• Water – 3 cups
For serving
• Okra or Turmeric leaves
• Oil – as required
• Wooden toothpicks or small dried stems
*Note: Originally, the rice flakes were made from organic rice that was reddish-brown in colour due to de-husking by hand in a round mortar-like structure known as a ‘musal’ buried underground. The final product had a pinkish-brown hue. Today, though very much available, this version of flattened rice is hardly eaten on a daily basis.

 

How to prepare this recipe
How to Prepare the Recipe:
Gul-pohe
• Wash the flattened riceflakes once and drain all the water. Let it rest for 10-15 minutes
• In a large mixing bowl, add the grated jaggery, cardamom powder and salt. Mix well.
• Check if the riceflakes have enough moisture. If dry, give it a sprinkle of tender coconut water and lossen up the flakes with a fork.
• Add the flattened rice flakes to the mixture and toss lightly
• Now add freshly grated coconut and toss again till the mixture comes together

Sweet potatoes
• Bring the water and salt to a boil over medium heat
• Peel and cut the sweet potatoes lengthways and add to the boiling water
• Let simmer for 15-20 mins or till the potatoes are well0cooked but slightly firm
• Drain the potatoes, let cool and slice into cubes
• Toss the cubed sweet potatoes in the oil to avoid them from blackening

To Serve:
• Wash and pat dry the leaves
• On a warm pan, press the leaves down till they become softer and more pliable
• For okra leaves, fold each side clockwise onto the next segment of the leaf and secure with a wooden toothpick or small dried stems. For turmeric leaves, fold the leaf to form a cone and fix the edges.
• Apply a light coating of oil on the inside of the leaf bowls
• Serve a ladle of gul-pohe with some sweet potatoes on the side
• Garnish with freshly grated coconut and serve at room temperature

 

The story behind this recipe
The utter simplicity of this recipe does not in the least match the history of change that underlies it. Its roots lie in the Hindu festival of lights – Diwali. Till about 50 years ago, Gul-pohe and boiled sweet potatoes were made in large quantities and shared with neighbours and visitors who came to greet the family, mainly in the lower Konkan coast of Maharashtra state, India. Most of the community comprised fisherman, some trading communities and a good number of ‘Marathas’ from the warrior varna/caste. Food consumption along the coast was largely on subsistence basis; a life of abundance was unheard of. On the other hand, the food of the Brahmins - an originally austere caste - turned lavish in more recent centuries. Access to education allowed them to get better jobs during the British Rule and continued even after independence, allowing them to live lives of privilege which also had a bearing on their cuisine.

A little after the 1950s, food patterns began to change along the coast. Increasing migration of labour to port cities like Mumbai brought in affluence, which made possible the purchase of ingredients that weren’t necessarily locally grown. A possible attempt at upward caste mobility also brought in Brahmanical influences in food. More refined ingredients began to replace the rougher, tougher textures consumed by the poorer classes and castes. Brown rice and a variety of millets such as sorghum and ragi gave way to refined flour, polished rice and finely ground curry pastes flavoured with ‘exotic, new’ ingredients like coriander. It is at this point that gul-pohe and boiled sweet potatoes made way for 'faraal' or sweet and/or savoury Diwali goodies.

Today, gul pohe is eaten rarely, if at all, and has almost entirely been wiped away by the more well to do ‘faraal’. This is one of the many points of transformation in coastal Maharashtrian cuisine – an indicator of a nutritiously rich culinary history lost to affluence and finery.