Review: 'Pangat, A Feast' is a Deep-Dive into Marathi Cuisine
Monika Manchanda reviews Pangat, A Feast : Food and Lore from Marathi Kitchens by Saee Koranne-Khandekar, one of the most awaited culinary books of the year. The book has been recently nominated for the Condé Nast Traveller Zomato Excellence Award for Food Writing.
I am going to ask a question, and I want you to answer it honestly: What do you know about Maharashtrian food? How many dishes can you name without googling? Unless you belong to the region, the answer is most likely be vada pav, sabudana khichdi and vada. At best, it might include misal pav and dabeli. But that is where most people’s knowledge of Marathi food generally stops. And if there is one thing that Saee Koranne-Khandekar’s book, Pangat, A Feast : Food and Lore from Marathi Kitchens taught me, it is that this is where real Marathi food actually begins.
Full disclosure before I go any further: Saee is an old and dear friend. That said, it cannot be denied that she is a strong voice in the Maharashtrian food circuit, one that has tirelessly championed cuisine from the region, the nuances and flavours of its food. If you follow her on Instagram, it is her love and understanding of the cuisine that shine bright, with forgotten dishes and everyday Marathi khaana, handled with equal ease and respect. With numerous Maharashtrian food pop-ups and menu consultations, the book was the obvious next step for Khandekar.
Pangat is an attempt to bring the true food of the region to the world, to showcase its diversity because “people only seemed to know one (horribly misrepresentative) side of Marathi cuisine,” she says.
The book starts very helpfully, explaining the four regions of Maharashtra, and how the region eats differently, and why. From the regal past of Kolhapur & Pune, still alive in the Deccan Plateau, to Khandesh with its distinct Mughal, Yadav, and Chalukya influences, owing to migrations from Rajasthan, Gujarat, the Deccan and the Malwa regions; the sun-drying traditions of the Marathwada region, and the fascinating seafood traditions of the Konkan region.
The book also breaks down Marathi cooking based on the several communities that make up the state — Brahmin, Sonar, Pathare Prabhu, Chandraseniya Kayastha Prabhus (CKPs), Somvanshi Kshatriya Pathare (SKP), Koli and more — and includes detailed explanations on pantry staples and cooking equipment common to a typical Marathi kitchen.
Like Khandekar’s previous work, Crumbs, a book that is easily the bread bible of India, Pangat covers techniques and methods in a tone very typical to her: she goes into detail, but keeps the language simple and friendly. A book that has the depth of a culinary tome, but the ease of a storybook. Knowing the author personally, I could almost hear her gentle, soothing voice guide me through each recipe, telling how to shape chakolya (multigrain pasta with lentils), almost showing me, with her own deft movements.
Brinjal with Fresh Toor.
Image credit: Monika Manchanda
Roasted Bengal Gram Chutney Pod
Image credit: Monika Manchanda
The recipes range from simple bhareets (ratias) and chutneys, to more complex mutton and crab curries; from sharp, spicy Misal to a delicately balanced Kolhapur-style paandhra rassa (white gravy). The beauty of the recipes in this book is that they work as they are, but also leave space for your own interpretation, giving you a chance to make the recipe your own.
In Saee’s own words, “The book hopes to provide an insight into the cuisine, to equip you to go off on a tangent of your own and discover the cooking and eating experience anew. I encourage people to understand the basic premise of a recipe... why is a particular method adopted, why certain condiments are avoided, and certain others considered absolutely necessary... and then play around for themselves!”
What I did miss when cooking from the book were pictures of the dishes. The illustrations are gorgeous no doubt, but, when working through one particular recipe, I arrived at a step where it said, “If you find it too dry, add a little more water.” I had to google-check exactly how dry the dish was meant be, for context. But besides tat, it is hard to find fault in a book that Saee has so evidently poured her heart and soul into. A book that will comfortably find space in any modern kitchen, Marathi or otherwise.
The book is a labour of love, one that dips deep into traditions and memories. One that brings dying recipes, forgotten ingredients and a cuisine that we dismissed as ‘streeet-food,’ back into focus. The book ends with a most heartwarming section on Marathi nursery rhymes around food. The chapter is called “A Few More Morsels of Love”. Such an apt name because to me, that’s what reading the book felt like.
A Rapid-Fire Round with the Author
Favorite Recipe from the book: Can I name two? Kolhapuri Mutton Sukka and Ambyaacha Sasav (Ripe Mango in Mustard Sauce)
One recipe everyone should cook from the book: Methi-kela Bhaji (Pakodas made using ripe bananas and green methi leaves)
A recipe you found hard to replicate/create for the book: Gulaachi Poli (because despite exact measures, a lot depends on the texture of the jaggery and the gluten content of the wheat flour)
Least favourite recipe from the book: Shengdanyachi Chutney (peanut chutney; because I don't like peanuts!)
Get the recipe for Kolambicha Khadhkala, or Maharashtrian Noisy Prawns from Pangat, A Feast : Food and Lore from Marathi Kitchens.
Monika Manchanda is an ex-IT person turned food writer, culinary consultant & trainer. You can find more of her writings on her blog Sin-A-Mon Tales along with many other online and offline publications.
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