Lounge
Recipes and cooking tips to tame the tangy sharpness of ‘gongura’
Summary
Gongura, or roselle leaves, carry the weight of identity, nostalgia, and fierce cultural pride of Andhra cuisine. Learn how to balance its sharp, sour flavour for a satisfying dish
In classes VI, VII, and VIII, I was a girl guide—part of the Bharat Scouts and Guides. We wore royal blue uniforms, neatly rolled scarves at our necks, and carried a belt with a rope, which we used to learn life-saving knots. But beyond the practical skills, we also spent some of our Guide periods singing songs.
One song that my not-so-sharp memory still recalls is “Rail mein Chanana Chanana hoi re." (You can find several versions of this children’s song on YouTube.) It was a playful tune about people from different regions travelling in a train compartment, each bringing a phrase or food characteristic of their culture. For example: “Rail mein baithe do Punjabi— rail me balle balle, balle balle hoi re!"
“Rail mein baithe do Madrasi—rail me idli sambar, idli sambar hoi re!"
I remember how, during one of these sing-alongs, my Telugu friend insisted that Andhra food’s signature gongura pachadi deserved a spot in the lyrics. It was the first time I heard of gongura (roselle leaves), and though it would take me years to actually taste it, the memory of that song ensured that when I finally encountered it, it already carried the weight of cultural pride.
Gongura is deeply woven into Andhra Pradesh’s culinary identity. While other regions like Odisha, Jharkhand, and Chhattisgarh also use it in their cooking, in Andhra, it is a symbol—much like mustard greens are to Punjab. The warm, humid climate makes it easy to grow, and its resilience means it thrives even in backyard gardens.
Also read: How a Mumbai chef is reviving his family's GSB legacy
For someone like me, with a relatively mild palate, gongura presented as a challenge. The leaves, from the hibiscus family, have an assertive tang—puckeringly sour, earthy, almost citrusy but deeper. Their intensity makes them more than just an ingredient; they act as a souring agent, standing in for tamarind or tomatoes.
I first encountered gongura in Hyderabad in the late 2000s, when I lived there for a couple of years. Andhra meals introduced me to its bold presence, and I also bought leafy greens from local pushcart vendors.
Whenever I asked how to use them, the standard answer was: “Add them to dal." And honestly, that’s a foolproof approach. Indian cuisine has a way of incorporating almost every vegetable, fruit, or spice into dal. Determined to experiment, I brought home bunches of gongura and other local greens, eager to document my experiences on my blog. While I could appreciate most of them, gongura remained a tough nut to crack.
Its strong flavour isn’t for everyone. It’s an acquired taste—one that requires a careful balancing act in cooking.
If you let gongura take centre stage without restraint, it can overpower everything else. Cooking with a bold ingredient like this is like moderating a panel discussion where one person dominates—it takes skill to shift attention and let the others shine. Using balancing ingredients like chillies, jaggery, lentils or rice ensure that gongura’s tangy sharpness doesn’t drown out the rest of the dish. Traditional Andhra recipes have mastered this in dishes like gongura maamsam (sour mutton curry), gongura pappu (tangy tur dal), and gongura pulihora—a tamarind rice like dish but soured using roselle leaves. Ingredients like mutton, lentils and rice absorb the flavours from the gongura leaves and the other spices and aromatics used.
While my palate may never fully embrace gongura, I appreciate how food can carry the weight of identity, nostalgia, and fierce cultural pride—sometimes, even in a playful train song.
Gongura Sweet Potato Subzi
Serves 4
Ingredients
1 cup gongura leaves
2 large sweet potatoes
1 tbsp coconut oil
Half tsp mustard seeds
2 tsp split urad dal
4-5 cloves garlic, crushed
3-4 dried red chillies, broken into pieces
1-2 green chillies
Half tsp turmeric powder
1 tsp salt
1-2 tbsp fresh coconut
Method
Wash and chop the gongura leaves finely. Scrub and wash the sweet potato and slice them into 1 cm thick slices.
In a large pan, heat coconut oil. Temper the mustard seeds, urad dal, garlic and chillies. Once the mustard seeds pop and the dal turns golden, add the gongura and sauté on a high flame for 2-3 minutes. The leaves will wilt. At this point, add the sweet potato and toss well. Sauté on a medium flame for 2-3 minutes. Add turmeric and salt and mix well to combine. Cover with a lid and cook for 5-7 minutes until the sweet potato slices are tender.
Give it a final mix, garnish with fresh coconut. Serve with rice and dal.
Gongura Raita
Serves 4-6
Ingredients
500 ml chilled curd (fresh, not sour)
1 tsp sugar
Half tsp salt
1 cup gongura leaves, finely chopped
2 tsp oil
Half tsp cumin seeds
1 sprig curry leaves
1 dried red chilli
For the raita masala
1 tsp black salt
1 tsp roasted cumin powder
1 tsp chilli flakes
Method
In a bowl, combine curd, sugar and salt and whisk well until smooth and lump free.
Heat a pan and saute the gongura leaves on a high flame until wilted. Remove to a dish to cool. In the same pan, prepare the tempering. Heat the oil. Fry cumin seeds, curry leaves and dried red chilli.
Combine the ingredients for the raita masala in a small bowl.
Mix the gongura leaves into the curd. Transfer the prepared tempering over it. Sprinkle the raita masala generously over the top. You will need only a teaspoon of it, reserve the rest in an airtight bottle for another use.
Double Tested is a fortnightly column on vegetarian cooking, highlighting a single ingredient prepared two ways. Nandita Iyer’s latest book is The Great Indian Thali—Seasonal Vegetarian Wholesomeness. She posts @saffrontrail on Instagram and X.
