For an Odia food rookie, Bengal is a constant reminder on the surface of the tongue. Go deeper into the flavours of Odisha and its subtleties and nuances emerge in a manner that is uniquely Odia. For starters, literally, there is chingudi kasa, a dried version of the jhol or masala gravy made with prawns fresh from Chilika. Mahura fry, a dried version of machha mahura, is made from hilsa or Indian herring. Both work well as an entrée. Fish is the undisputed star of the Odia cuisine. Machha ghanta, fried fish head in an onion, potato and garlic curry, is a household favourite and a Durga Puja delicacy. Like Bengali food, no Odia dish is free from mustard, which makes the rohu besara a top choice—besara is the native word for both traditional mustard gravies and a special pumpkin and potato dish.
Most gravy dishes are served with rice, and a bunch of khattas, chutneys made from tomato, mango, dates or anything paired with spices that makes for a good, tangy sauce. The cuisine revels in inclusivity, and most dishes have vegetarian counterparts. “Daalma, a roasted moong dal preparation doesn’t even contain onion or garlic and still has a unique Odia flavour,” says consultant chef Sitaram Nayak. For every macha ghanta, there is a plain ghanta for vegetarians and for every rohu besara, there is a chattu besara or mushrooms in mustard.
Classic dishes like santalu, a mixed vegetable curry, kandalimanja rai made from banana stem, the popular aubergine side dish dahi baingan, and the daily lunch rice staple pakhala bhata are vegetarian. “The versatility of the cuisine is what makes it different; patrapoda, for instance, can be prepared by marinating and baking both vegetarian or non-vegetarian options in banana leaves,” says Issa Naiyar, owner of The Sans, Keonjhar hotel, who promoted the cuisine at the second edition of the recently concluded DOT FEST (Food, Entertainment, Stories & Trails), the state’s annual food and cultural festival.
While pancha phutana, a five-spice blend consisting of cumin, fenugreek, mustard, aniseed and onion seeds, is widely used in Odia cooking, the overall level of spice and oil is comparatively lower. The state reserves its higher spice levels for snacks, starting with the ubiquitous gupchup, which the rest of India knows as pani puri. The semolina or wheat-fried balls are filled with spicy, tangy water. Popular street food is varied: a dahi vada-aloo dum combination, a snack like chaula bara, deep-fried pakoras or fitters made with rice and black gram, all served with chutney.
The desserts are showstoppers themselves; the omnipresent chhena poda, also known as Odisha’s cheesecake, crowns this list. It shares the top spot with the succulent rosogulla that has fought long and hard with its Bengali rival over claims of origin. The dripping rasabali and the dry khajja are as much in their rightful place in a run-of-the-mill sweet shop, as they are in the sacrosanct kitchen of the state’s most powerful presiding deity at Puri. Few take their religious offerings as seriously as Odisha, where spirituality and food mingle on a divine platter.
The powerful presence of the Shri Jagannath temple makes the food of the Puri and Cuttack regions heavily influenced by temple cooking. “If you dig deep into the history of Odia cuisine, you’ll find that the regional food of these two places was born in the temples. It spread from here and took on various forms,” says Acharya Dixit from the temple committee. The humble khichdi is the heart of the chhappan bhog, with 56 varieties prepared as daily offerings to Lord Jagannath. The ritual is believed to be in honour of Vishnu’s most famous avatar, Lord Krishna, who missed eight meals over a course of seven days, while sheltering his village from a deluge by holding up Mount Govardhan on his little finger.“We finish off with kanika, a simple rice dish. Nothing is complex or elaborate, and yet, the taste
is divine, he adds.
A walk around the Anand Bazaar near the main shrine has all dishes of the mahaprasad lined up for sampling and sale, creating a unique food tour experience within a temple complex,” he adds.
Taking diversity into its fold is the best way to take a cuisine forward. “That is why I turned the idli into
an Odia muffin. I’ve served daalma with stuffed kulcha and used local yam to make tacos. This is the best way to pass tradition to the next generation, while keeping new tastes in mind,” says Nayak.