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It was only in April 2016 that one of India’s oldest and largest distilleries, Uttar Pradesh-based Radico Khaitan, made its entry into single malt whiskies — launching Rampur Indian Single Malt in Las Vegas. Now, it is the latest among a fine crop of distillers to put Indian single malts in the global spotlight.

The brand’s latest, Rampur Asava, won gold medals at the International Spirits Challenge 2021 and New York International Spirits Competition 2021 after a virtual launch at the Whiskey Show, London in October 2020.

What sets this whisky apart? Rampur Asava is the first single malt matured in American bourbon barrels and finished in Indian Cabernet Sauvignon casks. Sanjeev Banga, president of international business at Radico Khaitan, home to Rampur single malts, also credits Rampur’s use of six-row North Indian barley. “Since we are located at the foothills of the Himalayas, the groundwater, soil and air shape the soul of all six Rampur expressions [products]. Our single malt is different yet pleasing, spicy but balanced. It is unabashedly Indian,” he declares.

Rampur is not alone. Goa-based John Distilleries’ Mithuna scored 97 points on Jim Murray’s Whiskey Bible, giving it the distinction of the world’s third finest whiskey this year.

To most connoisseurs, single malts are synonymous with the Scottish Highlands. But a maverick mix of Indian distilleries is quietly changing that perception, with a range of sophisticated, locally brewed single malts. Whisky accounts for over 60% of the total alcohol consumption in India, with annual sales in 2019 touching 220 million cases. (For context, the spirit alcohol industry as a whole came up to 345 million cases, according to the Confederation of Indian Alcoholic Beverage Companies.)

The journey to a distinctly Indian single malt began in the Deccan Plateau, at the turn of the 21st Century. Rakshit Jagdale, managing director of Amrut Distilleries in Bengaluru, reminisces, “We have been in the liquor business since 1948, but our voyage started in 2004. I teamed up with my father, late Neelakanta Rao Jagdale to create Amrut Indian Single Malt: India’s first single malt to be certified and exported, at a time when there was no reference point for us.”

Amrut tested the waters with various iterations, and 2009 was a watershed year for the brand. “Amrut Fusion Single Malt was rated the third best whisky in the world by Jim Murray’s Whisky Bible. Today, we manufacture 38 malt expressions,” says Rakshit.

A sip of India

So what makes a single malt decidedly Indian? “The grain is a very important aspect of whisky making. Our barley is grown in the Punjab and Rajasthan belt, and we experiment with different varieties to access a bouquet of characteristics that can contribute to flavour through fermentability,” says Rakshit. “From ideation to shelf, it takes around five to six years, while the rare whiskies take seven to nine years to market,” he adds. Amrut Fusion Single Malt distills the best of both Indian barley and Scottish peated grain.

They are matured separately, commingling in bourbon casks, which gives them a subtle peat and a rich fruity flavour. Amrut Intermediate Sherry Single Malt Whisky fuses the flavours of fruit cake, with hints of caramel.

While these drinks are prized as they grow older, the ageing of Indian single malts is complex. “Maturation depends on climatic conditions. In tropical distilleries, we cannot age our malts for too long as the losses due to evaporation are too high. So by a general rule of thumb in these conditions, whisky is aged between four to six years,” explains Rakshit.

Sanjeev concurs: “Our [Rampur] malts are aged in harsh North Indian weather conditions where temperatures fluctuate between 40+ degrees Celsius in summer and around 2 degrees Celsius in winter. This makes the malt interact with the casks very aggressively. Even experts in Scotland agree that due to these variations, aging in India is at least four times faster. A malt aged for 10 years in North India would be equivalent to a 30-40 year old Scotch.”

Asava has tropical fruity notes on the nose, with manuka honey sweetness, balanced by Indian red wine on the palate and a medium finish. The Rampur Double Cask matured in handpicked American Bourbon barrels and European oak-sherry casks, is a heady mix of oaky notes on the nose, a hint of fruity sherry on the palate with a luscious, lingering finish.

Mountains meet the sea

Yet another chapter in the Indian single malt script, has been written with flourish, by John Distilleries. Its operations have straddled eight manufacturing units spread over seven states since 1996, when Paul P John set up a distillery in Goa to primarily focus on single malts.

The formula is simple: six-row barley, harvested in summer at the foothills of the Himalayas, blended with Goan water assisted by locally sourced yeast. With Indian copper pot-stills, specially designed with long necks to create fruitier spirits, the malts are matured in American white oak barrels.

The warm Goan weather helps the malts mature faster. “It takes a minimum of three years to make our youngest single malts, and the oldest are seven years or above. As the liquid evolves, we work to give it the identity it deserves,” says master distiller Michael DSouza.

Nirvana, a bestseller, has a whiff of caramel pudding, with a salt-edged barley and honey on the palate and a lingering finish of vanilla.

The Zodiac Series, with two launches so far, Kanya and Mithuna, looks to the skies for inspiration. Mithuna, the world’s third finest whiskey this year, is named after Gemini, proffering a palate of mocha, tinged with orange peel and delicate spices, that ride on active tannins, gentle oils and dark cocoa tones.

“We have close to three million litres of single malt being matured in various casks from one to 12 years. What drives our prices is the uniqueness, coupled with awards and duty structures,” adds Michael.

Paul John’s Nirvana retails at ₹2,499 and prices are on the uptick for newer launches, available across 18 Indian states including Goa, Karnataka, Kerala and Maharashtra, as well across 45 countries.

While Rampur single malts are currently available in over 45 countries, in India, Rampur Double Cask is only available in the Delhi market (₹7,600 for 750ml), and under the Government of India’s Atmanirbhar Bharat scheme, will be launched across Defence Canteens in 2021. Amrut’s single malts now retail in 21 states and Union Territories in India and 58 countries, with a price range of ₹3,500 for some single malts, and 10 year-aged vintages selling for a hefty ₹60,000 and above.

Vikram Achanta, CEO, Tulleho, which dabbles in beverage education and consultancy, sums it up: “Indian single malts offer a unique experience; the interplay of Indian temperatures and six-row barley offers more protein and less starch than two-row barley used in Scotland, and finally the inventiveness of our master distillers that makes up the magic.”

Bento cakes or lunch-box cakes are pretty, minimalist, two-by-four-inch cakes that weigh about 300-350 grams. First seen in Korea, these cakes have now made their way to India, during the pandemic. “Celebrations are smaller due to restrictions. There is no use for a big cake, people are not celebrating in big gatherings. Usually, it is just the family and a couple of others, which makes lunch box cakes or Bento cakes ideal,” says home baker Megha Shah over phone from Bengaluru.

Baker Bhavana Baby Maliakkal, of the Sugar Sifter in Kochi, had been wanting to bake these for a while now. She did not because she could not find boxes to package them. During lockdown, however, the surge of home deliveries made ‘clam shell’ boxes (like those used for burgers) popular, and more easily available. These, coupled with her inability to ship regular-size cakes during lockdown, finally got her baking Bento cakes.

Chefs and home cooks in Thiruvananthapuram are serving global hot-sellers

Bento [meaning lunch box] originated during the Kamukara period in 12th Century Japan, when cooked and dried rice were carried together to work. Wooden, lacquered lunch boxes began to be made especially for this by the 16th Century. Eventually, schoolchildren used them too and in the early 20th Century there was a move to ban these in schools, as it was seen as a reflection of one’s family wealth over others. The practice stopped when food began being provided in schools.

Indian culinary guru chef Soundararajan passes away

However, in the 1980s, it made a comeback in supermarkets. Bentos continue to be used in Japan; home-packed bento lunchboxes are only nutritionally rich but also aesthetic. From Japan, the concept spread to neighbouring countries such as Taiwan, China and South Korea.

Lunchbox cakes first made an appearance in South Korea, as ‘cake on the go’ or ‘no-share cake’.

Bhavana disagrees with the ‘no share’ part: “I feel two people or more can eat one, though it is said that it is for one person. Depends on how much you love cake!”

‘Poita bhat’ or ‘pazhamkanji’: India’s fermented rice finds its place under the sun

The rising popularity of K-Pop and K-Drama, especially during the pandemic, is also a factor behind this trend, says home baker Riya Aggarwal of Its Whipped (Bengaluru). Her clientele typically, is teens and twenty somethings. On average she gets around eight to 10 orders daily.

Indian single malts: when the Himalayas craft whisky

“These cakes are pretty and colourful, usually pastels, with cute motifs,” says Riya. They come in flavours such as vanilla, Biscoff, Nutella and plain chocolate. Some bakers add fillings such as salted caramel or hazelnut. Icing is either buttercream or whipped cream. Most bakers prefer buttercream because it does not have to be refrigerated as much as whipped cream icing.

The effort that goes into making them, baking time, icing, is the same as a regular-sized cake, adds Riya. For customers, however, these cakes open up more possibilities. Megha of Sweet.Escakee who has been getting steady orders for her egg-less cakes ever since she started these a month ago, explains: “Rather than getting a conventional, single-flavour cake of 500 grams or a kilogram, these cakes give people the option of having two kinds, for instance.” They also cost half the price, though some bentos weigh up to 450 grams and prices start at ₹450.

Their appeal doesn’t just end there. As Bhavana puts it, “The thing about bento cakes is that you can gift them for any occasion, without the formality of a larger cake. Say you want to congratulate someone, or wish someone luck, these are, literally, the right size. They are popular party favours too; I recently made these as favours for a baptism.”

We all have that hidden curiosity about what is cooking in our neighbours’ kitchen, and how different it would taste from home cooking. How fun would it be, if you could actually taste food from a different cuisine every day? These intriguing home kitchens, serving up family recipes, make that possible.

Having worked in IT for most of her life, in 2019 Hyma Sakhamuri finally turned her dream of running her own food business into reality. She carefully handles the heirloom recipes passed down to her by her mother and grandmother. Her Guntur style of cooking has built her a loyal clientele. She posts her menu a day in advance on Instagram and WhatsApp, taking bookings only for small batches. Her elaborate Saturday bhojanam with over eight sides, which can easily serve two people, needs a special mention and is priced at ₹700. If you are lucky, you may get to try her ulli garelu (onion vada) with chicken curry.

Contact: 7550009207

Instagram: @andhra.deli

Mother-daughter duo K Srilakshmi and K Keerthana started a small food delivery service in January 2020, serving homes and hostels in their locality. During the first wave, when their other businesses were shut, food delivery kept them going. It was challenging to run a food business during lockdown, says Keerthana. “When the meat shops were shut during lockdown, the menu had to be changed to completely vegetarian,” she says.

Business took off when they started supplying food to doctors on duty; their combo packages were a huge hit. They have a standard menu one can pre-book, boasting chicken ghee roast deepened with Bydagi chillies and prawn biryani, lush with saffron milk. Their elaborate non-vegetarian combo for two is priced at ₹699.

Contact Number: 8667306011

Instagram: @the_madraspantry

To get your hands on Anglo-Indian food in Chennai is a rarity, as the cuisine is mostly restricted to households and family recipes. That, exactly, was Carl Fernandes’ motivation to start his home kitchen brand — serving authentic Anglo-Indian food to the curious gourmands of Chennai. This musician by profession turned to catering by passion earlier this year. He puts up a pop-up menu once a week, which customers get as a broadcast message on WhatsApp. Anglo-Indian beef curry and pork fry are some of his popular items, as is coconut rice and ball curry with devil’s chutney, served with a side of cutlets. Contact number: 9840340926

Instagram: @foodsy_kitchen

Ammu Manoj believes in the mantra, “Food makes people happy but good food feeds the soul.” The appreciation she earned from friends and peers gave her confidence in March 2021 to step beyond catering for friends. She operates from a separate apartment which she has converted into a kitchen studio, and sticks to quintessentially central Travancore (South Kerala) food. Her roots in Quilon (Kollam) shine through in the way her kallappam is laced with tender coconut. Her classic, however, is a combo of three palappams.

Contact Number: 9884898998

Instagram: @rebeccas__kitchen

Ayesha’s Kitchen, Vepery

It has been two years since Sohail Mohammed has been taking care of handling orders and coordinating delivery for his mother Shabnam Parveen’s venture Ayesha’s Kitchen. A focus on Muslim home-style food and steady word of mouth publicity has helped them expand their customer base, as have shoutouts on Instagram. Shabnam makes sure to follow her family recipes to the T: her shammi kebabs are made of meat marinated for hours at a stretch, and her seekh kebabs need the charcoal to be heated perfectly, to achieve just the right smokiness. Sohail beamingly mentions that his mother’s paaya ka salan is “lazeez (delicious)” and goes well with both string hoppers and parathas. A meal for two costs approximately ₹600-₹700.

Contact number: 9003213351

Instagram: @ayesha.kitchen_

In May 2020 Yasmeen Azeem and her family decided to share their treasure trove of recipes from the Kashmir valley with the public. Yasmeen had shifted to Chennai after her wedding in 1976. Her bestselling mutton yakhni — meatballs simmered in a curd-based curry with a mild dose of aromatics — seems to have won many hearts. The fiery-looking yet mildly spicy rista is another dish to look forward to. Wash it all down with a glass of home brewn kahwah; you will not regret it. Sadia, Yasmeen’s daughter-in-law, handles the social media for her and helps in facilitating the order process. A meal for two costs approximately ₹800-₹900.

Contact number: 9840089139

Instagram: @abids_kitchenette

Hapusa, the Himalayan dry gin from Nao Spirits, recently bagged a gold medal at the International Wines & Spirits Competition (IWSC) 2021.

In three years since its launch, Hapusa (the Sanskrit name for juniper) is found in over 15 countries. Anand Viramani, co-founder, CEO and distiller at Nao Spirits, is delighted. “This award puts the Indian craft spirits flag across the globe,” he says, adding that with over 250 judges drawn from around the world to evaluate thousands of wines and spirits across 1,500 different categories and renowned brands participating, the competition was intense.

“This has come as a very welcome surprise! We have been swimming against the current right from the time we discovered Himalayan juniper, which required us to keep our heads down and keep plugging away, says Anand. “A Gold at the IWSC is an affirmation of our focus on quality. As its makers, we were always proud of Hapusa, now that as many as 250 experts have given their opinion on it, it makes us even more confident of the choice we made in picking Himalayan Juniper.”

Nao Spirits, a start-up by Anand Viramani, Aparajita Ninan and Abhinav Rajput, makes the gin at a state-of-the-art distillery in Goa. The trio were adamant about using Himalayan juniper when they learnt about its use in Ayurvedic medicines in India. However, it took a couple of wild goose chases before Anand finally laid his hands on the elusive ingredient.

He explains how their craft gin Hapusa stand out because it is made using foraged Himalayan juniper berries. Anand adds, “It is a contemporary gin that is uniquely Indian, with botanicals like raw mango, Gondhoraj and turmeric, which have so far never been used to create gins.” He adds, “Nao Spirits wanted to do away with the garam-masala-ish flavour in Indian gin and show new India flavours. We wanted to step away from the clichés.”

The official tasting review by the IWSC judging panel described Hapusa as: “A powerful and wonderfully fragrant gin, with pronounced and complex juniper on the nose. The palate is smooth with citrus and Himalayan juniper working together to create a stunning end-product. A delicious saline character runs seamlessly through the mouthfeel giving a long, incredibly satisfying length.”

The origin story of my soufflé-making is now lost in the mists of time. However, I will admit that it had a lot to do with the fact that, after a string of epic fails with everyday lunches, I turned to baking under the impression that baked dinners would make for at least one decent meal per day.

I do remember that my first attempt turned out fairly well, and soufflé philistines that my husband and I were, how much it rose was the exact amount of rise we expected, and since we loved eggs, this was a light and satisfying dinner. Soon it became cheese soufflé for dinner one night every week.

My soufflé-making started in the pre-Internet days, so my go-to recipe was one culled from a 1966 issue of my grandmother’s stash of Woman & Home. I read the recipe, more than a bit surprised at how easy it seemed. Apparently, all one needed was some white flour, butter, eggs, cheese and milk… and some wrist game to beat the eggs to frothy perfection. In 1966, apparently manual exertion was what made for light-as-air soufflés. In time, the kid was an enthusiastic, if slightly ineffectual, egg-beater when she was home for the holidays. Later on in life, the husband eschewed the egg-beater in order to go at the mixture manually, with delicious results.

Flavours galore

Necessity being the mother of invention and all that, I soon turned to my masala shelves to desify the flavour of my soufflé. Voila! A touch of cracked pepper, a pinch of chilli powder, finely minced garlic, all wonderfully amplified the basic flavour.

As time went by, I grew more daring in my experiments. I’d grate onion and add it to the mix. Paprika and mustard became regular features, as did julienned mushrooms, bits of salmon, ham, bacon. Once in a while, though, I’d overplay my hand. Like the time I diced coloured bell peppers, cauliflower and cooked potatoes, and put it into the soufflé. Or the time I sliced sausage bits into it; another time I slid sliced sweet potato bits into the mix. These soufflés rose but not too high, were definitely not light as air, and though the end result was delectable, any old-fashioned professional chef, fictional or real, from Bertie Wooster’s aunt Dahlia’s cook Anatole to Auguste Escoffier would have immediately castigated me for passing off a Spanish omelette as a soufflé.

Just eggs and cheese

Then there are individuals and establishments aplenty who make fruit soufflés but that offends the purist in me. If a soufflé doesn’t have eggs and cheese in it, it simply is not a soufflé, so say I. As for soufflés made with coffee liqueurs, chocolate or Grand Marnier, let’s call them by their right names, shall we? They are custards. Or mousses.

Reading up on this dish, I found that the perfect soufflé was a work of art, involving a judicial balance between air and moisture, using a bain-marie, pre-chilling the mixture, and so on. I also gleaned several useful facts. That a soufflé rose to wonderful heights only if it involved the use of many eggs and was a smoother than silk mixture. That a spoonful of cream along with the milk made for an uber-binder. That it was best eaten hot, not after it had fallen in on itself and become some sort of an egg casserole; this collapse is often because the dish is baked to a dry consistency, so a jiggle test comes in handy here. That a few cheeses did nothing for the dish, being stringy or bland, while most others gave it a sublime flavour. That the external browning did not always correspond to a fully cooked interior. That all your efforts will come to naught if you don’t have a ceramic soufflé dish or ramekin with sides high enough to encourage the soufflé to reach for the sky. That there shouldn’t be even a smidgen of yolk in the egg white mix. That the egg whites have to be beaten to a just-so consistency: not too wet, not too stiff. That all your efforts will (again) come to naught if you open the oven door while the soufflé is baking inside.

Better version

Some years ago, a group of us dined at Le Voltaire restaurant on the Left Bank in Paris. I ordered an onion soup (another dish which I make often at home) and a cheese soufflé. Behaving rather typically, our group was soon tasting each other’s food. The French onion soup was far better than my version. The soufflé was excellent, literally melting in the mouth, the cheese leaving a lingering aftertaste.

Everyone had a forkful of the soufflé. Then everyone turned to me as one and said, I don’t know what it is but I much prefer your soufflés. More chatpata.

It was hard not to feel smug, that much I will tell you.

SUNDAY RECIPE

Cheese soufflé

(from the cult cookbook Larousse Gastronomique)

Ingredients

40 gms butter, plus extra for greasing 40 gms flour

2 decilitres or 1 cup cold milk

4-5 large eggs

75-90 gms cup finely grated Gruyere cheese

60 gms finely grated Parmesan cheese

Pinch of salt

Pepper

Grated nutmeg

Method

1. Pre-heat the oven at 200 C for 15 minutes.

2. Make a béchamel sauce with the butter, flour and cold milk.

3. Add salt, pepper, nutmeg and the cheese.

4. Add 4 egg yolks.

5. Beat 4 egg whites to stiff peaks, fold into mixture.

6. Butter a soufflé dish, pour in the mixture and bake about 25 minutes until it’s well-risen and a deep golden-brown on top.

The Bengaluru-based writer is an author, journalist and manuscript editor.

At his 35-acre farm in Bodi, Tamil NaduJayanth Kaliappan fiercely protects eight local varieties of mango. “We have 1,200 mango trees, of which 22 are native varieties. Of them, eight are rare and unique to this region,” says Jayanth.

His organic farm, set in Theni district, follows the legacy of his father A Kaliappan, who made it his mission to save native rare mangoes from extinction.

At his farm, Jayanth harvests thennampaalai, which tastes like coconut; and muttakose, shaped like a cabbage. The farm also protects its brightly-flavoured singivaada; big, fibrous javadu; and sweet, pulpy thadaga kaai. Finally, there is the rosemary, tinted pink near the stem, and adamaga, used for pickling, which weighs between 1.5 and 2 kilograms.

“We are creating saplings from the mother tree of these varieties so that future generations will also benefit from the nutritional value of these mangoes,” says Jayanth.

Umaramanan Umapathi of Auro Orchards, set in Auroville, near Puducherry explains how many of Tamil Nadu’s native mangoes began to disappear over the last three decades as farmers preferred to grow just five or seven popular varieties for the domestic and export market. “Now, people are bored of eating the same varieties year after year and are showing interest in local mangoes or nattu kaai. This year, our customers pre-booked native mangoes even before we began harvesting,” says Umaramanan.

Now documenting native mangoes in Villupuram and Kanchipuram, Umaramanan travels though these districts in search of rare mangoes, and educates farmers on the importance of biodiversity and seed conservation.

At the 44-acre Auro Orchard, he grows iruttu, rettikola, kadhar, malliga, pether, neer malgova, K-white and amarapalli. He also has “Natty,” as the local farm workers call it, which are unrecognised native varieties (perilladha mambazhangal) , and ratna, which is a hybrid of the neelam and popular alphonso. There is the fleshy rettikola, three times bigger than the rumani; the kadhar is medium-sized and very sweet; pulpy malliga with huge flat fruit and firm iruttu, weighing about 250 grams each.

“So far I have seen iruttu only on our farm. We have a single tree, so we are now creating more saplings from this mother tree. The fruit has a thick, dark green skin like kalapadi, orange flesh and a unique sweetness, ” he says.

Umaramanan sells the harvest at Saragam, a retail outlet in Auroville, as well as at organic stores in Chennai, Organic Farmers Market and reStore. “I deliberately keep the price of native mangoes on a par or higher than the popular ones, as I don’t want people to judge the fruit based on its price,” he says, adding that rettikola, pether and malliga sell the fastest.

Bindu B, assistant professor (Horticulture) at the Kerala Agricultural University, has been studying the varieties in South Kerala, finding ways to conserve them. “My focus is on native mangoes that are high yielding and resilient. Mangoes are highly susceptible to climate change but native mangoes flower abundantly even during drought,” she says, adding that hence more farmers are showing interest in reviving heirloom saplings.

Traditional mangoes of Kerala are many. In fact, over 200 have been identified in Kannapuram panchayat alone. Declared an Indigenous Mango Heritage Area last year, the panchayat is home to 10 families that have been iworking on documenting and categorising the 500 mango varieties found in the state. So far they have completed 203 varieties and grafted over 100, to help propagate the species. Bindu adds that native mangoes are often named based on their shape, colour and taste.

For example, in Malayalam, thathachundan means parrot beak; moovandan means three years (this variety yields fruit in the third year of planting and vellari means cucumber.

Rajapalayam-based mango farmer and researcher KS Jaganatha Raja has been propagating and conserving rare and native trees for 25 years. He says we have already lost many precious mango varieties, unique to the region. “As a custodian of native mangoes, I have saved from extinction certain varieties such as mohandas, pottalma, panchavarnam and karupatti kai, which tastes like jaggery. By combining mohandas and swarnareka, I developed a variety which I named Raju-1,” he adds.

Jaganatha who runs the Rajapalayam Nursery Garden says he creates over 14,000 saplings a year from various mother trees, and distributes them to farmers in the region. Establishing a healthy, productive mother tree requires planning and preparation. Using the grafting method, he grows a sapling and waits for three years for the tree to yield fruit. Then he confirms the mango variety based on taste, texture and size.

“I have 20 mother trees of Mohandas, 15 pottalma, four karuppati kai and hundreds of panchavarnam. The taste is the same wherever they are planted, but in red soil, the size of the fruit is slightly smaller,” he says. “Panchavarnam especially is sought after as it is high yielding, and the mango can be stored for 20 days. As its peel begins to shrink, the sweetness of the fruit increases.” His latest project is saving the round vadu manga, which has a pink stem and is used for pickling in South India.

Newer markets

Fazila Fathima’s family grows 15 mango varieties on their 8.5-acre farm in Tada, near the Tamil Nadu and Andhra Pradesh border. “This includes dilpasand, putty, guamango, khudadad, khadar, pether, badami, and jehangir,” says Fazila, adding that this summer they sold it via home delivery around Chennai under the brand name, Mango Super Kings.

For over two decades, the harvest from the grove was exported, but with the pandemic affecting exports since last year, they have been retailing within Chennai. “We had an overwhelming response last year. This year, we began to get enquiries ahead of season and have recruited staff to deliver all over the city,” she says.

As mangoes are seasonal and their shelf life limited, many of these farmers are finding ways to preserve their harvest so that nothing goes to waste.

While Mango Super Kings makes mango jams from different varieties, Umaramanan sells dehydrated mangoes online. He says that, as native mangoes have solid flesh with less water content, which helps the process and yields more output, “they suit this process the best”.

Where to buy

Organic Farmers Market, Thiruvanmiyur: 9790900887

reStore, ECR: 24921093

www.jayanthagrofarms.in: , Phone: 9962008974

Mango Super Kings, Royapettah : Phone: 7338866441

Roos Food Concept: 8870801234

The last time I was in Kolkata, I was stumped by the number of little cafés I saw in every corner of the city. They were bustling with life, peopled by the young, who sat with their lattes and laptops. The sight — though vastly different — reminded me of the city’s old coffee houses, where people once voiced and shaped their dreams over cigarettes and coffee.

Coffee houses were as much a part of the city, as, say, the Victoria Memorial. So, I was happy to find a chapter on coffee houses in a new book called A Taste of Time: A Food History of Calcutta by Mohona Kanjilal.

The India Coffee House on Chittaranjan Avenue, it says, was one of the two venues originally selected by Coffee Board of India in Calcutta, the other being the Albert Hall Coffee House on Bankim Chatterjee Street. Albert Hall, founded in April 1876 by philosopher-social reformer Keshab Chandra Sen, was the meeting place of the city’s intelligentsia, Kanjilal writes.

“It is believed that Surendranath Banerjee founded the Indian National Association (also known as Indian Association) here, in 1876. The first Indian National Conference, which took place here in 1883, is said to have paved the way for the formation of the Indian National Congress in 1885. Netaji Subhas Chandra Bose attended a few political meetings held in this place.”

Lords and commoners

After the acquisition of Albert Hall by the Government of India, Coffee Board converted it into a coffee house in 1942. Albert Hall was now known as India Coffee House. It had two sections — the House of Lords and House of Commons. The difference between the two was stark. Coffee in the House of Lords cost 25% more than that in the House of Commons.

“In the Commons, your coffee was brought to you with the milk already in it; you merely added the sugar. In the Lords, milk, sugar and coffee were produced on a tray in their separate receptacles and the customer paid for this refinement,” the book quotes from an essay written by the late British journalist, Philip Crosland.

If there was “pandemonium” in the Commons, the Upper House was sedate, Crosland writes — “A table near the door was almost invariably occupied by the Chief Secretary to the West Bengal government, whose name I have forgotten, immersed in The Statesman crossword. In the centre of the room was a galaxy of talent from an advertising agency. One of their number would be Satyajit Ray, yet to find fame as a filmmaker, but a quarter way through the making of Pather Panchali.”

The black umbrella

Over the years, Kanjilal writes, India Coffee House came to be popularly known as the College Street Coffee House because of its proximity to College Street. This was where poetry was written, films conceptualised, revolutions plotted. Not much, though, was thought about its food, though Kanjilal also waxes eloquent about the menu. “Fluffy omelettes and flaky patties are a reminder of the legacy left behind by the British, as are the vegetable, cheese, chicken and egg sandwiches, and cutlets.”

At the heart of the menu, to my mind, was the adda. “College Street Coffee House has been a centre for intellectual and artistic discussions and political movements,” Kanjilal writes. Among the regulars were filmmakers Satyajit Ray, Mrinal Sen and Ritwik Ghatak; actors Utpal Dutt, Soumitra Chatterjee and Aparna Sen; economist Amartya Sen; writers Sunil Gangopadhyay and Samaresh Majumdar.

Gangopadhyay, she says, often didn’t have money to pay for coffee, and would leave behind his black umbrella as credit. It says something about the humble beginnings of the late poet-author, who later gained great fame. But doesn’t it say a lot more about a coffee house that agrees to keep a poet’s black umbrella as collateral?

Rahul Verma likes reading and writing about food as much as he does cooking and eating it. Well, almost.

Culinary consultant and author Saee Koranne-Khandekar learnt cooking and baking by “osmosis…by being around”. She’s never received formal cooking lessons. It could explain why her books have appealed to me. Be it her debut Crumbs, which explored the world of breads, or her sophomore work Pangat, a treatise on Marathi cooking, her writing remains conversational.

And that could be said of her latest project, From My Oven, an e-book created as a fundraiser for Ahmednagar-based non-profit Snehalaya, which managed to raise ₹12 lakh in 21 days. All it took were daily posts on her social media pages. Snehalaya, operational for three decades now, works with women, children and LGBTQI+ communities affected by HIV, AIDS, poverty, violence and sex trafficking. Thane-based Koranne-Khandekar’s philosophy, be it on her popular Instagram page (@skoranne) or in her writing, has been to make cooking a non-lesson. “When you instruct, it becomes a chore to be completed, not a life skill,” she says.

There’s a spirit of sharing, with things you’ll never find in a regular cookbook, such as turning extra rotis into crackers and making herbed croutons using leftover space in the oven. These tips are a lifesaver. “Those cooking at home were not holding back trade secrets,” she says of the people who taught her over the years.

The 30-plus recipes are meant for beginners, those with moderate skills, and the experienced. Want minimum fuss? There’s the nan khatai, thumbprint cookies, and baked mathri.

The book is also a treasure trove of baking substitutions — think egg replacer powder, flaxseed powder or aquafaba (the liquid from cooking chickpeas). “That’s how our kitchens work. You want to make mava (milk solids) cake, but don’t have mava, so then you substitute. If you’re making a Christmas cake and don’t have individual spices, can you use garam masala? Yes, you can. There will be a slight difference, but you get the overall flavour,” insists Koranne-Khandekar, who believes that recipes are the scaffolding that protects a dish, but allows you to experiment within.

Proceeds from the book will help supply free medication for all at Snehalaya and also to those with mild Covid-19 in Ahmednagar, provide food for those who cannot cook, and an isolation centre for those who cannot isolate at home. At 89 pages, the digital book is slimmer than her usual works. Will it turn into a physical book? “I don’t think so. This was written for a specific purpose, and it has fulfilled it.”

This year’s Apple Worldwide Developer Conference brimmed with announcements for just the Health app alone. One of its new features is a new Sharing tab in the native Health app letting users privately share their data with a trusted partner or caregiver. This is indeed part of the company’s long-term journey to become synonymous with health-tech.

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The Sharing feature seems to be a ‘data engager’, enabling those looking for specialised care or support to build a stronger, more informed support system in the health space. That said, the possibilities are endless: it could be an aging parent sharing their Activity and Heart health data with their family members, or a partner sharing their fertility window insights for family planning.

Apple’s Vice President of Health Dr Sumbul Desai speaks with The Hindu about the new feature ‘Health Sharing’. “For many of us, it’s not only tracking our own health that we care about. It’s the health of our family and loved ones, too, whether they live with us or far away,” says Dr Desai, “To empower our users to build a more informed support system on their health journey, we are introducing a new way for users to choose to share their health data in a secure and private way with loved ones.”

Community relevance

In India, the ‘sandwich generation’ (the age group of 40s to 50s caring for their parents and their children) and joint family set-ups are more common than ever, so more people may need access to relatives’ health data wherever they are

That said, users can choose to share any of the over 100 data types. When setting up sharing, users will be guided through an on-boarding to help narrow down relevant health data to share, along with suggested data categories where users have data from the last six months. Users can also choose what health alerts to share.

Dr Sumbul Desai during the WWDC21 keynote, speaking on Health
 
| Photo Credit: Apple Inc