I visited the markets a lot in Kolkata.
More than in any other Indian city.
Perhaps after years of communist rule the little guy still retains some power? I don’t know. I do know that small businesses flourish here, where in many of the other cities I visited the mega-chains are taking over. In Bangalore I spent a great deal of time in department stores and groceries in which a single ownership interest controls the sales. In Kolkata, New Market was my haven, a hive of hundreds of small, independent owners. I won’t pretend that I understand the economics of these situations with gravity, but I admit a preference for New Market over shopping malls. This isn’t about the aesthetics of capitalism, even though shopping malls are inherently tacky. It’s because I’m a small business owner, and I admit I take some pride in my product, not just pride in selling. I feel some empathy with the little guy.
Here are some things I bought.
This is mango leather, a black variety. Gold kinds are sold too. I didn’t taste them, but I understand they are neither as sour nor pungent as this is. Expensive stuff. One of Gautam’s ideas.
(I’m currently at odds with Gautam, I regret to report, but he helped shape a great deal of my Kolkata trip so there’s an element of awkwardness in recounting some of this.)
I used this in ‘a meal of fruit.’ Gautam suggested this, and I’m embarassed to post what I came up with. It must be a very weird rendition of the real thing.
I took some bananas (kanthal?) some pressed rice flakes and some sugar:
Gautam said the crunch of the sugar should be retained, so it was cut into dice. Here, the rice flakes are soaked and the rest of the party has arrived:
Yogurt and that Leather. It may be a meal organized along lines of religious Observance and Restriction, but it still appealed to my heathen palate.
I ate this a couple of days for breakfast, and even somehow once dared to replace the sugar cubes with liquid gur (notun gur).
Here’s that, liquid date palm sugar:
This tastes somewhat like maple syrup, but with a background hint of molasses.
While I was out wandering around looking for Bhim Nag mishtanna bhandar one day I came across this man:
He was making fried snacks called rathia, and it was fun to watch him work. In the photo above, you can see he is about to lay a strip of dough in the frying oil. He was whipping these out with lightning speed! Deft work, and in the next you can see the quality product he was putting out:
On the top shelf is the finished product stacked up neatly. These are thin and crumbly, a delicate treat.
The closeup above shows their formation. A lump of dough is cut from the piece on the left and spread quickly and evenly across the wooden board.
He used the palm of his hand with speed and delicacy. Then used a flat knife to scrape up the thin sheet of dough. This is what I think of as artisanship.
I’m including the next photo merely to show the fan at the base of the fire, used to keep the fire hot.
I bought these rathia at another namkeen shop, all broken, still very tasty:
One distinguishing ingredient (this is perhaps overinflated by outsiders like me) used in Bengali cuisine is mustard oil. I wanted to taste some good stuff and I found an oil press in Chetla Market not far from Sam’s house. My friend Jefferson went with me, and he took some of these photos. Thanks for sending them, Jefferson!
Inside was a mammoth machine, blackened with time, with belts and pipes and nozzles dripping oil. Buckets of mustard seeds were fed into a chute, and underneath it cakes of the pressed seeds were slowly extruded. I can only describe it as Dickensian.
Yet also consider this, as I’ve tried a little to indicate throughout my blog: the freshness and the quality of the products at hand. Quite amazing.
Here’s my bottle of the sap of this machine:
Golden and pungent, olive oil’s relative.
These guys walked alongside us on the way out for a while:
The one on the right, obviously, was the mustard oil connoisseur. He pointed at my bottle and gave us his best bodybuilder poses: Mustard Oil is tasty and makes men strong!
edited to add: see an important correction to “rathia” (sic) in comments
January 16, 2008 at 11:21 pm
Jim,
Are we at odds? First time i heard of this!
Some comments about Calcutta: the communists have nothing to do with the presence of the small shopkeeper except in a negative fashion, in that growth of bengal has stopped for a long long very long time. The communist dadas have not stopped lining their pockets. And New market is the haven of the RICHEST OF THE SHOPKEEPERS, they are not itty bitty little poor darlings!!!!!!!!
PLEASE TAKE A MINUTE TO UNDERSTAND THAT ONLY THE RICH SHOP AT THE NON-FOOD STORES OF THE NEW MARKET FOR THE MOST PART, the very rich until at least 1988! Now they may have migrated a bit to the airconditioned market etc. but we are talking Macy’s here,
Even the “small shopkeepers” of the Hawkers Corners have minted money at the expense of the public in ever so many ways, so please, let us leave the sociological claptrap for elsewhere!! Ah, the mystique of bengal, with negligible economic growth when the rest of India moves forward by leaps and bounds. Consider, for a moment, the growth in real income, and income possibilities, for those at the bottom. Ask the poorer Kolkatan where he would like to be: CCU or bangalore, and listen to his answer.
There is a reason why 3 or 4 of the largest carmakers of the world are rushing to Chennai to make it their world hub for small cars, competing with each other for labor etc. Go there and hear what that has done for the female labor force. Ask the women and men themselves, the very poorest. And then see what these pseudo communists have wreaked on bengal. Not pretty, when you are on the receiving end!
Quaintness, in the Indian, and especially Bengali context, often marks an economic hellhole from which there is no escape, hence one is forced to carry on as is. Use a simple relation in physics: power = work done/unit time. That will explain to you why the human or animal body is so trifling compared to machine power, even a small engine. Use the other relations, of Work etc. and you will understand why productivity is so pitiful in these small scale efforts, why incomes, and possibilities for income growth so constrained. Now picture yourself trapped or born into one of these situations. Fun picture, eh?
Visit the many markets, Bowbazar, manicktola, Sealdah, ad infiitum, and look deeply, if you can and choose to: right in front of your eyes, you will see aged women selling pitiful quantites of vegetables to eke out a living, a few snails. The depth of despair and resignation is amazing and defeats me. In the rural areas it is even worse. If you know how to interpret the signs correctly, bengal is a terrible place indeed.
Getting make to mango leather, the sour kind often is better suited to a piquant chutney, Bengali style; whereas a sweeter, softer, thinner, more golden kind may be employed for ther phalahaar that you tried. but so long as you enjoyed the balance of flavors, that is what matters.
The long thin things probably are a Gujarati specialty, perhaps a Surati, made of besan or chickpea flour, called gathia.
January 17, 2008 at 3:31 am
Thanks for taking the time to comment, Gautam. Even though we are totally and completely fighting I appreciate your thoughts.
I doublechecked with Rathika about the “rathia” because they didn’t strike me as a Bengali snack. I must have misunderstood her. Worse, I should have recognized a ganthia when I saw one since I eat these all the time in spicy snack mixes. Here is a case where I was being marvellously obtuse! I’m embarassed.
As with most of my observations I’ve tried to qualify my statements as being those of a neophyte. Really, I don’t know the truth of the matter about all my armchair sociology. But it’s difficult for me to believe, in the Kolkata of today, that New Market inhabits a position of privelege? The shopping malls arise! My sense is not that the rich have migrated ‘a bit’ to Macy’s. But rather, in swarms and droves. The rise of the New City is more muted in Kolkata than in Bangalore, but it’s there. At least in places like New Market there are still shopkeepers at all, albeit as you have said, rich. The malls are lorded by chains and corporations, even richer. They’re bustling and growing. I worry that this rising landscape will be even more unfair to those who live without hope. These are just my impressions, though, and certainly shouldn’t be confused as the words of a truly informed observer. I say this sincerely.
Please be clear I have no gripe with economic change. I have no desire to see Bengal ‘remain quaint.’ But out of the frying pan into the fire? My touristy impression is that the current development only disenfranchises a greater number than previously.
January 19, 2008 at 12:54 am
Hi Jim,
Looking forward to the updates on Bengali cuisine…
I’ve been to CCU just once, way back in 1979 and have vague remembrances of Kathi Rolls (non existent in HYD far as I know) and some cutlets (champ?) in the New Market area. And a fish curry in a tiny ‘lodging’ in Jalpaiguri (north W.Bengal), where we stayed overnight on our way to Darjeeling.
Look forward to your experience with this cuisine, rarely found elsewhere in India and abroad. (I gather that there are restaurants opening up in the metros.)
January 19, 2008 at 2:33 am
Sekhar, I enjoyed the culinary hospitality of a number of folks in Kolkata. Sam and Gautam of course, a friendly woman named Anwesha and Rathika, Sam’s cook. I also chatted a bit with a restaurant owner.
Still, in Kolkata I didn’t really get to have an extended kitchen dialogue with a home Bengali cook. How nice that would have been! (I would have been blessed to have had a CEO in Kolkata itself, y’know?)
It’s accurate to say I really didn’t get to taste much Bengali cuisine at all!
Nonetheless, I’m so pleased I got to taste what I did.
Kathi rolls coming up!