Few Bengalis will admit that Odia cuisine is better than Bengali cuisine. I believe that while the latter’s repertoire might not be as wide as Bengali cuisine’s, it has some delicious preparations, and its celebration of seafood and even mutton is not to be dismissed or taken lightly.
Because I choose my friends wisely, I have had the pleasure of many a fabulous Odia meal cooked by my Odia friends. A common truism in Bengali is that the best cooks come from Odisha. Even at my home, our cook Dulia-da, who had been there since my father was a child, was from Odisha. He was a master at Bengali food, but was equally skilled at continental cuisine.
I am going to dodge the question of whether Orissa invented the rosogolla (or rasgulla) or Bengal did. But I am going to sing the praises of Odia cuisine. It vies for second place among the best of Eastern Indian cuisine, alongside Assamese food, which I feel deserves far more celebration.
What has always appealed to me about Odia cuisine and delicacies is the simplicity in the spices used, which allows the produce itself to shine. Whether it is the vegetables, the fish, or the meat preparations, there is minimal use of spices.
Much like Bengali cuisine, even Odia cuisine uses panch phoron as a tempering agent. And as with all coastal cuisines, seafood (especially if you are lucky enough to be in Puri or near Chilika Lake) is a focal point.
Meeting points for Bengali, Odia cuisines
While mustard, Bengali five spice, a version of panta bhaat (soaked day-old rice, served with the water it was soaked in, along with onions, chilis, and fried vegetables and fish) called Pakhala Bhaat are meeting points for Bengali and Odia cuisine, there is one interesting ingredient which gives a defining flavour to many Odia preparations – the Ambula!
Ambula or sun-dried raw mangoes are used to give a tart and unexpected fillip to many a dish. Green mangoes are sliced, salted, and then dried in the sun to preserve them. This process gives the dried mango a more concentrated, intensely tart, and salty flavour. Ambula is used to provide a sourness to food, much like Kokum in Goan cuisine.
You can even cook with Ambula being the main star of the dish – instead of just using it as a souring agent. Two of my favourite dishes with Ambula are Dahi Ambula, a raita made by mixing rehydrated Ambula with very well-beaten yoghurt flavoured with freshly ground mustard paste, and tempered with spices. Another dish was the AmbulaKhata, a sweet-and-sour raw mango curry with heat from dried red chilis. The brilliance of both lay in their simplicity.
I asked Gurgaon-based home chef and general cook extraordinaire, Anasuya Mohanty Chatterjee, whose table I have eaten at many times, including her parents’ table, what some of the classic Odia dishes are that she loves cooking. As Mohanty (we’ll ignore the Bengali Chatterjee-suffix for now) said, “ Odia food has been under the radar. As a cuisine, it is quiet, soulful, and deeply rooted in balance rather than excess. I grew up eating classics like Dalma (Dal with vegetables), Saaga Chatu Rai (Mushroom and spinach with mustard), Seeja (boiled vegetables with a tempering of chillis and garlic and phutana or panch phoran), and Chhenchera (vegetables with fish head and malabar spinach).”
She and I once made a trek from Gurgaon to the heart of Central Delhi to Odisha Bhawan to eat at the dining hall there. And the spread was just fabulous. Much like in Bengali cuisine, the focus was on a few spices, simple flavours, and lots of vegetables. While we had a spicy preparation of small whitebait fish cooked with a few masalas and julienned potatoes into a dry stir-fry, and a fabulously spicy mutton curry, the vegetarian dishes I’ve had at her mother’s place were far superior.
According to Mohanty, “While Pakhala and Dahi Bara Alu Dom have gained popularity of late, there are many dishes that remain underrated. Dishes like Santula (stir-fried veggies) should be more mainstream: simple, nourishing, and proof that everyday food can be deeply satisfying without being loud. And then there’s Muri Mangsa (puffed rice with mutton curry), or Mangsa Bhaja (fried mutton), which deserve far more attention. These dishes capture how Odia cuisine can be rustic, inventive, and full of character all at once. The one dish I cook often and one that is loved by my family is the mustardy Machha Besara (mustard fish), especially when cooked with Ambula (dried salted mango) for that beautiful sour note.”
The Odia Macchha Besara, which I quite love, is different from the mustard fish or Shorshe Maach of Bengal because the mustard paste used is different. The mustard paste in Macchha Besara is prepared from mustard, garlic, and dry red chillis. As Mohanty explained, “the use of the Ambula adds to the punch and provides a tart element that balances the mustard and the chilli”.
I did try to embroil her in the controversy that has torn apart Odia and Bengali communities, and asked which of the two cuisines is better. (We all know the answer to that.) But she became like Switzerland and refused to take a side and said, “The cuisines are similar yet distinct in their differences. Some Bengali dishes are more nuanced or sophisticated.”
I personally feel that the main difference between the two is that Bengal has a larger repertoire of dishes, and that sometimes there’s more subtlety or finesse in Bengali cuisine owing to its rare use of garlic, onions, or even ginger. But if you want to treat your taste buds, a visit to Eastern India, from Bengal to Assam to Odisha, would be well-advised.
From pancakes to Baked Alaska and steak kebabs and fruit souffle, next week I’ll be writing on why most people love going for a meal to the club – from the society club to the country clubs of India.
Who invented the rasgulla -- Bengal or Odisha? (Photo: Pixabay) 
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