For most denizens, the history of Mudhi Mansa is a rather short one. The birth of this instantly addictive delicacy was in 1969 when an enterprising gentleman Kartik Chandra Behera chanced upon the idea of scoring on a traditional favourite from the House of Mayurbhanj. But the young, food loving entrepreneur wasn’t just going to take the recipe that launched a thousand and one versions across the erstwhile state of Mayurbhanj (which included parts of Bengal as well) verbatim, he did it in his own way.
First, he changed the way Mansa was made – from the thin gravy at home he went for a richer, thicker gravy; then he decided to give the leg portion a ditch for the more delicious chest part and liver (which many believe is part of the magical flavours of his mutton) taken from a 15 kilo lamb; and then added his own creation, a chutney to complete the trio: a fascinatingly light dahi-based relish made with local sweet chilli pickle, finely chopped madras onion, cucumber and of course rock salt and more chilli powder to taste (the exact proportion of this is still a family’s closely guarded secret, much like the mansa recipe).
As the masterstroke, Behera senior not only launched a restaurant dedicated to the art (and cause) of this good old favourite of the royals, soldiers and commoners alike, but also paid ode to the way the dish is best enjoyed as his restaurant name, Garma Garam. Today, nearly five decades later, Garama Garam holds the same position in Baripada as Tundey Kebabi in Lucknow or Bade Miyan in Mumbai: the birthplace of the iconic dish, and the legends that surround it.
In fact, Jogeswar Behera, the scion to the Garma Garam legacy says, “in all these years of us being in business of treating people to Baripada’s signature dish, we have little reason to change anything – the meat, the way it is presented or the recipe.”
Agrees long-time patron and archiver, Satwik Mahapatra, who has eaten there since the early 70s. “There is this inexplicable charm about sitting at Garma Garam and relishing the Mudhi Mansa – and not just because of the history, it is also a legacy that they have ably preserved without pinching the pocket (a thali here comes for 120 rupees and the portion is meant for a good eater).”
Take the case of the Mansa here, Mahapatra continues, “one of the key reasons for the great tasting mutton is the lamb itself, which is a traditional breed of castrated goat (khasi) that was the preferred eat of Emperor Ashoka court as well. They are prized because of their less gamey, sweet meat. Reason, most of these lambs are bred on sal leaves which ensures the meat is naturally tender and delicious and needs very little to make it soft and delicious. And two is the Mudhi made of Mugeishala rice, easily the finest exports of Baripada, the birthplace of high quality puffed rice.”
It is this subtle yet sustainable combination of local specialties that worked in the favour of Mudhi Mansa that was born inside the Mauryan military corridors much as a sustainable meal than a treat.
In fact, according to old Kautilya interpretations, the art of meat making was one of the main changes that happened in the imperial court during their Gupta kings’ attempt to capture Kalinga. And the one thing that they adopted was the use of the Khasi goat from erstwhile Baripada along with the Mudhi, which was one of the earliest sustenance meal of a marching army
– especially spies. The change of meat quality, observed KT Achaya, “turned the simple recipe of slow cooked chunks of meat in ghee, salt, ginger, cinnamon and pepper into a delicacy that even made it into one of Emperor Ashoka’s favourite.”
Intriguingly, says Barnali Rath, owner of The Kitchen Script (an heirloom recipe blog), “It was that local onion, whole masala, curd tenderised meat curry that eventually made it into the books of many dynasties later on, who found the sweet-spiciness the perfect treat for all season.” It was the Ganga dynasty that eventually took the standard military mutton curry and turned it into the symbol of food diplomacy. Raja Man Singh, who was the Governor of Odisha-Bengal division during the Mughal rule – was so enamoured by the mutton curry that he had a few cooks deployed to devise
the curry, which is all about celebrating the Baripada’s Khasi.
The final iteration of Mudhi Mansa took shape under the Mayurbhanj kings, who saw it as the perfect Shikar meal and would often find reason to indulge their guest with the delicacy. Says royal scion Akshita M Bhanj Deo, “It was an essential on the diplomatic table, after all, both Mudhi and Mansa were our twin jewels on the diplomatic table, much like beetroot tikki and Shiraz was on Emperor’s Shah Jahan.”
Akshita, for whom a bowl of ‘garma garam’ Mudhi Mansa is a Sunday treat recalls how the British soldiers were enamoured with the happy blend of spice and sweetness of a dish. She adds, "It was till date believed to be a Mughal culinary gift to Odisha. It is not. It is as old to Baripada as our Nardi Mudhi, a royal favourite.” Nardi is a old paddy variety from Mayurbhanj. The extreme localisation perhaps explains why Mudhi Mansa remains such a classic fascination.
(The writer is a senior food columnist, who has been on the panel of Masterchef India and curated chefs retreat)