Friday, March 9, 2018

The 'Samberization' of Sambhar


Food is essential to life - therefore, make it good  - Anonymous

Life is too short for fake butter ...or fake people - Julia Child

No man was made great by imitation - Samuel Johnson


Image result for sambhar


Having spent 23 years of my life in Madras, I made a move to Bombay in early 2002, due to a job posting. I love eating out and this led me to sampling the food at the local restaurants. When you are away from home, the more you want to get close to home and it leads you to creating an atmosphere as close to home; this includes cuisine. In fact cuisine tops the list. The prime examples are our own brethren - Indians who die to eat Indian food when they go abroad.


So, the south Indian staples of Idli, Dosai, Vadai and Pongal top the list. The accompaniments to these staples are Sambhar (please note the ‘h’) and chutney, assortments of which are served. The Sambhar is a prime accompaniment, much like the tabla or mridangam which provide the percussion base for Indian classical music.

Before I delve into the agony of having Sambhar in Bombay, a slight history (who does not love a story, eh?) on how this dish came into being. There are many versions and this is a popular one.

There was a clan called the Thanjavur Marathas of the Bhonsle dynasty, who ruled Thanjavur in Tamil Nadu between the 17th to the 19th century AD. The Marathas came as far as Thanjavur In Tamil Nadu during the course of their conquests and while fleeing from the Mughal persecution. The Serfojis are the more famous of the rulers in that lineage.

It is but natural that when you assimilate with the local population, the cuisine undergoes myriad forms of changes and multiple melanges result. Sambhar was one such dish. Marathas use kokum extensively while tamarind is used by the Tamilians. The gravy of the local Tamilians was apparently different and so, they added tur dal /thuvaram paruppu (split pigeon peas) instead of moong dal / payatham paruppu (yellow lentils) and more vegetables to the local dish, thereby creating their own concoction. It was named after the Shivaji’s son, Sambhaji. Thus became the dish ‘Sambhar”, after the Maratha King Sambhaji – a Tam dish named after a Maratha. So Sambhar is an amalgam of Tam-Maratha co-operation. Ah, the wonders we can create when we come together!

In Sanskrit, the word ‘Sambhara’ refers to an amalgam of multiple things. But then, historians note that there is no mention of ‘Sambhar’ before the Maratha rule of Thanjavur – the Sarabhendra Pakasasthram, a set of two Marathi manuscripts available at the Saraswati Mahal library in Thanjavur, also says the same.

That’s the history of Sambhar. Now, to the main issue – why is the Sambhar so ‘unsambhar like’ in places other than Tamil Nadu and to some extent, parts of Kerala and Andhra Pradesh? The main explanation is - it lies in the ‘Shettyisation’ of the dish. The Shettys are the people who have taken over the South Indian cuisine in Bombay. So they way they dish out South Indian cuisine is reminiscent of their homes in Karnataka. In Karnataka, sugar is added to the Sambhar, making it very un-Tam. Moreover, as far as I understand, they run a cartel in Bombay which keeps out others who want to dish out the real thing. Which partly explains the non-appearance in Bombay of the famous Bhavans and Kadais from Madras, which are so loved. For us Tams, Sambhar is a staple. It is hard to see our beloved dish mauled by the rest of the country.

The realisation dawned on me after sampling Sambhar at various parts of Bombay. The unfortunate part of this is that the Sambhar tastes as bad everywhere else too other than the places I mentioned above. So, one has to live with this. The only exceptions are the Idlis, Dosais and Vadais you get on the roadside, which are normally peddled by Tams, which have Sambhar as an accompaniment - better than the ones sold at the restaurants in Bombay. The only places I go to for Sambhar in Bombay are Mani’s and Udhaya in Chembur and Deluxe near Fort (the latter two serve Kerala cuisine, which is closer to Tam cuisine). This is, when I am not cooking it myself. Even in Tamil Nadu, I am partial to Madras’ Sambhar over other places.

The other grouse is the name – ‘Sambhar’ it is; not the ‘samber’ as it is pronounced. It’s amusing to see even the local Marathi population pronounce a dish named after a king of their race wrongly.

I was thinking as to why the Shettys have done this to my beloved Sambhar. One of the possible explanations is the way Kannada is referred to in the North of India – ‘Kannad’, minus the ‘a’. It is their way of taking revenge for the mauling of the name of their language, I guess! A very odd explanation, though!

I fondly look forward to the Tam Bhavans opening ships al over the country so as to take the glory of the real Sambhar to the country. When will that time come?

2 comments:

Anchal said...

Hi! Happened to read the post now (early day off from work!). Have you tried the Matunga places? I once went for a Matunga food walk and we covered a number of places including Arya Bhavan (run by Muthuswamy caterers - super good and genuine Tam Sambhar) and a big stall right outside the main temple (think Ayappan idli stall). Madras Cafe there is very popular but I prefer Arya Bhavan. Outside of Matunga, I think tam version is probably only at Dakshinayan at Juhu. My fav sambhar remains Tam version - with the best that I had at Hotel Annapurna in Coimbatore (served some 5 varieties).

I get the Shetty angle that you mention - it’s linked to most south Indian places outside of south India being Udipis (for instance Kamath being most popular chain). I also think that the sambhar in Bombay is gujuised. They also add sugar in food - so all farsan places and Shiv sagar/ Amrit sagars of bombay serve sugar sweet sambhar.

Bombay can definitely do with some more tangy and spicy Tam Sambhar!

Pradeep Ramakrishnan said...

:)

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