Odisha's Sweet Saga

Rarely does a vehicle cross the National Highway 5 stretch between Cuttack and Bhubaneswar, without stopping at Pahala, Odisha’s biggest market selling rasagollas.

Unlike other places in the country where the ubiquitous sweetmeat is spongy and has a rubber-like texture, here the sweet delights are extremely soft, served hot and taste divine. They are prepared fresh everyday with no additional flavouring or any preservative; the only ingredients are chenna (cottage cheese), semolina, sugar and a hint of elaichi  (cardamom) for flavouring.

There are three markets selling rasagolla in Pahala – the Kalinga, the Prachi and the Laxmi; the biggest one being the Prachi market. These have around 120 confectioners who sell the sweetmeat for around 18 hours a day. Their small shops with thatched roofs are not fancy enough to lure customers except for the mouth-watering rasagollas. Icing on the cake is you get two other chenna-based sweet varieties: chenna poda and chenna gaja.

The confectioners belong to the small village of Pahala, located near the National Highway stretch. They do not believe in competition and interestingly, the sweets taste the same in all the shops. The rasagollas are prepared everyday late in the night. Chenna is kneaded with semolina and elaichi powder for about 15 minutes, shaped into small round balls and boiled in sugar syrup of thick consistency. The cheese balls are cooked in syrup till they start floating.

Among the three, making chenna poda (cheese cake) is the most arduous job.  At least 10 kg of cottage cheese is kneaded with semolina and sugar till it becomes light and airy. The dough is then baked overnight in an aluminium container covered with Sal leaves over a clay chulah (stove). Chenna gaja is deep-fried cheese soaked in sugar syrup. Recipes of these sweetmeats have been passed down from generation to generation but so far, there has been no change in the ingredients or the process of making the sweets, whose shelf-life is limited to just one or two days. Every day, the three markets do a business of several lakhs by selling sweets directly to customers and sending rasagollas to different parts of State. 

Odisha-based food historian, Usharani Tripathy says the tradition of making rasagollas is related to the Jagannath Culture. “In Puri during Bahuda Yatra when Lord Jagannath returns to His temple after a nine-day sojourn at Gundicha temple, He offers rasagollas to His wife Goddess Laxmi to pacify her. She is angry with him for not taking her along to Gundicha temple during Rath Yatra. This tradition is being followed for several decades now,” says Tripathy. Many believe that the precursor to Rasagolla was Kheer Mohan, which was offered to the Trinity at the Jagannath temple in Puri. Later, this evolved into the Rasagolla found in Pahala.

Scripting A Seaside Story

A rainy morning at Nimapara

The road to Konark from Nimapara

 A date with the beach is always a welcome break from the mundane lives that we lead. So on a cloudy Sunday morning, I and four of my colleagues set out for a joyride to the Ramchandi beach from Bhubaneswar, the Capital City of Odisha. Adding a magical touch to our journey was the overcast sky. There is something extremely romantic about beaches during monsoon, I believe.
Our car passed through a narrow diversion road, potholed at some places, from the Bhubaneswar-Puri National Highway towards Konark that houses one of the 25 cultural World Heritage sites in the country, the ornate Sun Temple. From Konark, the Ramchandi beach was just 9.8 km away through the Puri-Konark Marine Drive road.
En route to Ramchandi, we stopped at a small town, Nimapara, for a quick breakfast. It had started drizzling by then.

The popular Chennai Jhili of Nimapara. It is believed that Aarta Sahoo of Shyam Sundarpur village near Nimapara had first come up with the recipe of this Cheese delight

Odisha is home to several mouth-watering sweets and Nimapara holds the reputation of making the soft and sweet 'Chenna Jhili', prepared by kneading Chenna (cottage cheese) into small round balls which are then deep fried and soaked in sugar syrup of thin consistency.
Passing through small roadside eateries, we decided to stop at one - a single room shop with two benches in the centre and one at the right. Its kitchen was a small cabin located just behind and food was being prepared right in front of our eyes. The shop owner-cum-cook offered us idlis with matar tarkari (peas curry) and one piece of Chenna Jhili each. The idlis weren't fluffy but the matar tarkari was piping hot, something that we needed to beat the monsoon chill. The winner on the plate, however, was the extremely soft and mildly sweet Jihili that melted in the mouth. No wonder food historians and critics say, none can match Nimapara confectioners when it comes to making Chenna Jhilis.

 

Irresistible Aloo Chop

Behind us in the kitchen, Aloo Chops (boiled potato balls dipped in spiced gram flour batter and deep fried) were just out of the frying pan. An irresistible aroma of fried besan and aloo filled the air. After sipping a glass of tea, we quickly packed some of these deep-fried potato balls and proceeded towards Ramchandi. This time, there were villages on both sides of the road with eye-soothing greenery all-around. The drizzle stopped but the clouds stayed put.

After an hour of drive through the Puri-Konark Marive Drive, we reached the Lotus Resort at Ramchandi. The resort boasts of owing a private beach, although I fail to understand the concept. (I mean how can a beach be a private property? And in this case, it wasn't even well maintained). The resort was environed by flowering plants of all varieties with a small kitchen garden at one corner.

Ducks occasionally made their way through the garden. There were wooden planks strategically placed throughout the landscape, which had notes on nature. One read: Live Green, Love Green, Think Green.  
After a stroll on the 'private beach', which hosts the annual India Surf Festival, we travelled a little further to another beach. Surrounded by swaying Casurina trees on one side, this one was comparatively clean, unpretentious and secluded.
Soon, happy screams prevailed. We ran towards the green sea and let the waves come closer to us. The water touched my feet and coaxed me to come even closer to the ocean. It was a quiet moment of gratitude, a feeling of contentment with life. We sat on the beach making sand castles and even our driver joined us in the sandy endeavour. (I do not remember his name but we called him Mr Shahrukh Khan. He constantly gave us tips on photography!). 

Unlike other beaches in the State, the closest being at Chandrabhaga and Puri, this one had no vendors on the shore to hound visitors. Far from the hustle bustle of the city, the beach turned out to be an ideal place for harried souls like us seeking recluse.