Thali

With myriad gods and as many ways to praise, petition and appease them, Indians have an inherent sense of pageantry, and no celebration – be it a naming ceremony, religious ceremony or wedding – is complete without food! We never miss an opportunity to bring colour into our lives, and this is true of our food as well. In India, we grow up with a sense of hospitality ingrained in us. It stems partly from believing in atithi devo bhava, which means that guests are avatars of God, and the essential role that food plays at religious and social gatherings in our lives.

Last month, I gave you a small taste of a simple everyday meal in India. We don’t actually have a traditional name for this meal, but it has acquired the name of ìthaliî after the plate the meal is served in. (Today, with the advent of restaurant culture, you can find thali restaurants all over the world.) The thali is not just a meal or a plate; it is, in fact, a tradition. Within the rim of that plate, many traditions – handed down from one generation of cooks to the next – abound.

The festive thali is a dining experience that can rival any gourmet multi-course meal. It starts with the first sip of water proffered an arriving guest, continues into as lavish a spread of food as the host can afford, winds through delectable desserts and concludes with a selection of mukhwas and paan – breath fresheners and digestives that are eaten at the end of a meal.

A proper thali comprises six main elements: dal (a sort of lentil soup tempered with spices and the main source of protein in an Indian meal), one vegetable dish (a combination of protein, fibre and other nutrients), steamed rice, griddle breads, yoghurt or a yoghurt dish and a simple salad. Every element of the meal is designed to enhance its nutritional benefits, alone and in combination with the other elements on the plate. Depending on the occasion, these six elements can be augmented by an array of additional vegetables, chutneys, pickles, papads and sweet dishes.

One of the most elaborate thali meals can be found in Gujarat, India where my family comes from. Gujaratis have truly perfected the art of vegetarian cooking, and Gujarati fare is often referred to as haute cuisine for vegetarians. It is mistakenly perceived as sweet, but it is not. It has an element of sweetness added to it in the form of jaggery, because the cuisine puts great importance in the balancing of flavours. When checking the seasoning of something, my mother will often ask if the khattash (sourness) or mithash (sweetness) is all right.

The Gujarati thali is an endless procession of flavours and sheer variety within each of its elements, be it the main course, a snack (the repertoire is humongous) or just pickles. Sweet, hot Gujarati dal is best enjoyed with steaming-hot rice, a dollop of ghee (clarified butter) and fresh vegetables cooked in aromatic spices. (This could be as simple as French beans sautÈed with cumin and garlic or as elaborate as undhiyu, an aromatic medley of tender baby vegetables slow-cooked with fresh green garlic and coconut –  a dish that causes nostalgia at the simple mention of it!) This is scooped up with rotlis – thin, airy griddle breads served hot and slathered with ghee. Gujarat is rich in dairy production, so the thali always includes yoghurt, along with buttermilk to wash the meal down.

Gujarati athaanas, as pickles are called here, are perennial favourites. Others include mango-based pickles, such as the methia keri, a spicy-sweet combination of mango scented with fenugreek; chhundo, shredded mango sun-cooked in sugar, chili and spices; and the fragrant, sweet murabbo, a golden offering of mango, saffron and sugar. But there are more exotic offerings as well: gunda or gumberry, in which the berry is hollowed of its sticky innards, stuffed with a spicy masala and pickled in oil, a fabulous brined pickle of green peppercorn and the rare brined garmar (aspargus root) pickle, which is spiked with mustard.

No self-respecting cook of Gujarati food will present a thali without a farsan (snack) or two gracing one corner. Farsans run the gamut from deep-fried bhajias or pakoras (fritters), ghugras (fried half-circles of pastry stuffed with savoury fillings) and kachoris (fried circular pastry usually stuffed with a savoury potato filling) to comparatively lighter steamed offerings:  dhoklas (steamed cakes usually made of fermented rice or chickpea flour), muthias (made of chickpea flour and grated vegetables steamed and later shallow-fried), patra (colocasia leaves spread with a batter of chickpea flour, rolled into cylinders, steamed, sliced and pan-fried or deep-fried) and the delicate khandvi (spiced chickpea flour and yoghurt batter thickened over a flame, spread over oiled surfaces, cut into strips and rolled into what resemble tiny bedrolls).   

The Gujarati thali is only one version of the thali experience. India’s diversity is reflected in the sheer variety of its regional cuisines; as you travel around the country, you will find that – depending on local ingredients – each regional cuisine boasts its own thali.