How to cook chicken liver from Marathwada’s Dalit kitchens

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Patole’s book deals primarily with the lowest of Dalit subcastes in the Maharashtra region of Marathwada: the Mahar and the Mang, whom even other Dalit subcastes regard as untouchable. So strong is the hold of caste, subcaste and sub subcaste that the Mahar themselves had seven subcastes, who once shared food but would not intermarry, differences that have largely disappeared with their conversion to neo-Buddhism.

Translated recently from Marathi to English, Patole’s book reveals how dead animals and how they are eaten are central to the Dalit identity. It is likely to be uncomfortable to many upper-caste Hindus, who would rather not acknowledge such realities.

“Animals which were considered sacred and godly became unholy after their death," writes Patole. It was—and is—the Mahar and the Mang who handle the aftermath of the life of holy animals. They remove carcasses, skin them, dispose off their remains and eat what they can.

So, why was this the culinary fate of these two castes? “They were the cleaning servants of the village… they were paying for the sins of a past birth," writes Patole, referring to upper-caste belief, backed by scripture, that Dalits were born who they were for a reason. “They were living this life for the sake of atonement."

“Not a single saint or godman came to their rescue to take them out of their supposedly despicable food culture, discouraged them from eating it or provided them with an option of alternative nutritious, simple food," writes Patole. “No god assumed any avatar to save them."

And so the Mahar and the Mang eat meats even omnivores like the Halarnkars—from the supposedly higher Maratha caste—baulk at eating or have never heard of or never had to. I am familiar with and have eaten rakti or blood curry, bheja or brain, kidney, liver and intestine. But this is tame stuff.

I or my family have never known of or eaten fashi (epiglottis) with its “dark, chocolatey flesh"; salmon-pink lungs; gana or crispy trachea, like the “white drainpipe" of a washing machine; lakuti, thick chunks of mashed, cooked and cooled blood; fat mashed with bhakri, beloved of children (not my child); gristle; and scraps of membrane, viscera, tendon or udder.

Food is closely woven into Dalit life, culture and superstition. For instance, hunters keep a cautious distance from a trapped rabbit because, it is believed, their sight will fade if the animal blows air into their eyes. A man hit by the tail of a ghorpad, a monitor lizard, becomes effeminate, the legend goes.

The eating habits of the Mahar and the Mang appear largely opportunistic, given their lack of choices. Cooking techniques are simple, even bare, using basic spices and available ingredients. Almost all foods, whether fish, offal or vegetable are cooked quickly and easily with turmeric, red chilli powder or green chilli, ginger-garlic (if available) and salt, as I did with the liver. My mother, who usually takes a one little helping of meat took three—although she said, “I would add a little garam masala." But that isn’t something available to many Dalit families.

It may appear that the Mahar and Mang eat mainly meat but most cannot afford meat, even leftover meat, with any regularity. Vegetables predominate in daily meals. Here, too, plants that upper castes may never consider are grist for their meal, such as wild dandelion, tamarind flower or unripe figs or dodya, which causes constipation but kills hunger for long periods, writes Patole. Seeds, flowers, shoots and leaves abound in the Mahar and Mang menus.

Current affirmation in right-leaning circles is that the British used caste to divide Hindus, but Patole argues that 900 years after caste-busters Basaveshwar and Shri Chakradhar Swami, it was the Raj that enabled the battle against caste. “Social justice and equality were brought into law, but they are yet to seep into the minds of people."

Indeed, thousands of comments below a BBC documentary on Patole and his book are abusive, most claiming that there is no such thing as Dalit cuisine and that the network continues a colonial divide-and-rule agenda. Many advise the Beeb to focus on the cuisine of the supposedly oppressed Irish. There is little logic to bigotry.

Chicken liver Marathwada Dalit style

Serves 3

Ingredients

300g chicken liver, washed, cleaned

1 onion, roughly chopped

Half-inch piece ginger, slivered

8-9 cloves of garlic, smashed

1 tsp red chilli powder

Half tsp turmeric powder

1 slit green chilli

Half cup coriander, chopped

Salt to taste

2 tsp oil

Method

Heat oil in a wok, add the green chilli and let it splutter. Add onion and fry till golden brown, add ginger and garlic and saute for a minute. Add turmeric and red chilli (use Kashmiri mirch powder to tone it down) and saute for a minute, drizzling in water if it sticks. Add liver and salt and half the coriander, stir well for 3-4 minutes, cover and cook on low flame for 10 minutes. Garnish with the remaining coriander.

Our Daily Bread is a column on easy, inventive cooking. Samar Halarnkar is the author of  The Married Man’s Guide To Creative Cooking—And Other Dubious Adventures. He posts @samar11.

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