It was only after Shacchi Anand got married into a Punjabi family and started cooking for her in-laws the food she had grown up eating – the as-yet unknown Bihar Cuisine – and being praised for what she served, that she realised she had an ace up her sleeve.
Bihar’s under-rated cuisine, Shacchi thought to herself, offered her an opportunity because it was so little known and yet, so rooted in history and rich in flavours. Shacchi took a leap of faith and became a home chef to be able to reach out to a larger universe beyond her family and friends. She launched her own kitchen – Baghar-e-Magadh – and people she knew advised her to sign up with We The Chefs so that she could make her dream turn into reality.
Sharing her story on ‘Food Talk with Sourish Bhattacharyya’, Shacchi said Bihar, despite its historical legacy, being the centre of the Magadhan empire, the birthplace of Emperor Ashoka, the seat of the Nalanda university and the nursery of Buddhism, is little known for its bihari cuisine. It may be because, as she said, it is seen as being a “rustic cuisine” that does not pique the interest of chefs of five-star hotels and fancy restaurants.
And yes, there’s more to Bihar than the famous ‘Champaran meat’ and ‘litti-chokha’, the latter being the gift of Mithilanchal, the birthplace of Sita Mata. Not many people know, for instance, that the popular sweetmeat ‘balushahi’, also famous as ‘badusha’ in the South, originated in Muzaffarpur, Bihar. The state is equally famous for its deep-fried pastry called ‘khaja’ – the ones from Silao, a town neighbouring Nalanda, have been prized since the time of Lord Buddha. Connoisseurs rightly compare the khaja to the baklava.
Then there is the Chhat puja speciality ‘thekua’, also known as ‘sandesh’, or the harbinger of happy tidings, which are sweetened with either jaggery during winter or, when it is not in season, then sugar. Thekua served during Chhat is prepared with wheat and jaggery, making it a health food – among the sweetmeats Bihar is famous for, thekua, in fact, is the only one made with wheat; it is refined flour that goes into making the rest.
If Chhat is synonymous with thekua, then Holi is as much a celebration of the ‘malpua’ as it is a festival of colours. The Bihari malpua, though, is not dunked in sugar syrup as it would be in Odisha and West Bengal (sugar is added instead to the dough so that the end result is sweet, but not sugar syrup sweet!). In Bihar’s Bhojpur region, the thick and dry malpua with just a hint of sweetness is served as an accompaniment to mutton preparations – Champaran meat and malpua, in fact, is a much-favoured celebratory combination during Holi.
And when it is Teej, it is time for the ‘pirukiya’, which is yet another kind of deep-fried pastry that comes stuffed with ‘khoya’ (dried whole milk) and grated coconut, and is not soaked in sugar syrup like the very similar ‘gujiya’ that you get in other North Indian states. During Teej it is common for women in Bihar to make pirukiya. The activity, according to Shaachi, distracts them from the demands of the 24-hour fast sans water they are required to keep during Teej.
You cannot talk about Bihari cuisine and not mention ‘sattu’, the flour made out of dry roasted ‘chana’ (Bengal gram), which has become universally regarded as an energy powerhouse, although it started out as a poor man’s nourishment. It is, in fact, the key ingredient that goes into the stuffing of a ‘litti’ (baked wheat dough balls) and turns it into an energising wholesome meal.
Talking about ‘litti’ stuffed with ‘sattu’, Shacchi pointed out, “This is the kind of food that farmers carry to their fields. Typically, their working day starts at 3 or 4 a.m. and ends at 8, just before the sun is fully up, when it gets difficult to work out in the open. As they wrap up their day’s work, the farmers have this mass favourite with plain ‘baigan bharta’ (roasted and mashed eggplant doused with mustard oil and eaten with onions and green chillies), and, if they are feeling indulgent, a smoked tomato mash as well, accompanied by a helping of ‘dhania’ (coriander)-‘pudina’ (mint) chutney.”
It is impossible to talk about Bihari cuisine in its entirety in 15 minutes, so Shaachi was able to share only a fragment of her knowledge and practice. But she signifies the ability of We The Chefs to draw upon talented upholders of India’s multiple culinary traditions to be able to showcase the regional diversities that drive them. She will get more opportunities to share her knowledge with people hungry for more.