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The only negative connotation you can find in the Nepali language about potatoes is, “s/he eats aalu (potato) in the final exam”. As the shape of a potato resembles zero, it’s popularly termed as ‘potato grade’ in our society. Aside from this, the potato holds an all-time favorite status in Nepali society, as implied by the phrase “s/he is just like a potato,” meaning one can fit anywhere, just like a potato goes well with any vegetable.

While browsing the online version of Annapurna Post, I suddenly noticed a detailed story about ‘Tharu aalu’ from Tikapur in Kailali. I had never heard of a potato species named after the Tharu indigenous community. So, I read through the entire story. According to the report, this species of potato is exclusively cultivated by the Tharu community and is considered indigenous.

Potatoes entered Nepal 176 years ago, introduced by British naturalist Sir Joseph Dalton Hooker in Taplejung during an ecological expedition in eastern Nepal from October to December of 1848. Sir Hooker was accompanied by Brian H. Hodgson, a naturalist and ethnologist who later became a British resident in Kathmandu. Potatoes then spread across Nepal and became a national favorite.

The per capita consumption of potatoes in Nepal is 75 kg, which is one of the highest in Asia, with almost 90 percent of potatoes consumed by Nepalis being cultivated in Nepal, while only 10 to 12 percent is imported.

Potatoes, scientifically known as Solanum tuberosum, are believed to have originated in the Andes Mountains of South America, particularly in present-day Peru and Bolivia. These early potatoes were smaller and had a wide range of shapes and colors, quite different from the standardized varieties we know today.

Potatoes quickly adapted to the diverse agro-climatic conditions of Nepal, making them a vital crop across different regions of the country. Their adaptability and ease of cultivation made them especially appealing to Nepali farmers.

Potatoes became more than just a crop; they were a solution to food security issues. In a nation with a complex geography, ranging from the lowlands of the Tarai to the towering Himalayas, having a reliable source of sustenance was crucial. Potatoes provided this reliability, as they could be grown at various altitudes and in different soil conditions.

Potatoes have left an indelible mark on Nepali cuisine, being a key ingredient in a variety of dishes, including aalu chop, aalu ko achar (potato salad), and often served with sel roti and puri. The adaptability of potatoes allows them to be incorporated into both vegetarian and non-vegetarian dishes, making them an essential part of Nepali gastronomy.

The aalu dum is a ubiquitous dish that features potatoes simmered in a flavorful tomato-based gravy. Variations abound, with some adding peas or cauliflower. It’s a staple enjoyed year-round.

Aalu sadheko is a spicy potato salad that is popular in Kathmandu Valley. It’s a delightful twist on the classic potato salad. Boiled potatoes are tossed with a tangy dressing of chilies, ginger, garlic, and herbs. Perfect for any occasion.

Mustang aalu, on the other hand, is a deep-fried and fiery delicacy. This crispy potato snack is a specialty of the Mustang region. Packed with red chilies, timur pepper (or substitutes), and other spices, it’s a guaranteed crowd-pleaser. It’s best enjoyed during colder months.

Baglung, Gulmi, and Palpa regions offer chukainu, a refreshing yogurt-based potato curried salad. Chopped potatoes are combined with vegetables, herbs, and a creamy yogurt dressing, making it a light and healthy option. Tempering with fenugreek seeds is very important.

Sherpa communities in the high Himalayas have their own potato delicacy – rildok. Mashed potatoes are mixed with nettles or other wild greens, offering a unique taste and essential nutrients during the harsh winters.

Malekhu is popular for its aalu chop. This dish features deep-fried potato wedges tossed in a spicy and tangy sauce. While its exact origin is unclear, it’s a popular street food enjoyed across Nepal.

Thicheko aalu, that’s a local delicacy in Pokhara, literally translates to ‘pressed potatoes.’ This dish involves flattening boiled potatoes and pan-frying them until crispy. It’s a simple yet flavorful snack.

Originating from the Madhesh and popular nationwide, aalu bhujuri is a simple and delicious item made from potatoes. Just thinly slice the potatoes and fry them in hot oil with seed spices like cumin or fennel. Cook until brown. Add salt, grated garlic, chili, and turmeric, and cook for a while.

This is just a taste of the many potato dishes that grace Nepali tables. Each region and community has its take on this versatile ingredient, reflecting the rich heritage of Nepali cuisine. So, next time you’re looking for a potato dish with a twist, consider exploring the culinary delights of Nepal.

The author is a UK-based R&D chef

Sometimes, in our search for the latest ‘science-based’ medicines available in the market, we unintentionally overlook the rich knowledge handed down by our ancestors—embodied in the realm of traditional medicine. Defined by scientists as a culturally and regionally specific body of knowledge, traditional medicine is a source of wisdom developed over time by local and indigenous communities to address their unique health needs.

Enter ‘battisa,’ a superfood rooted in Nepali culture. The name itself is derived from the Nepali word for the number 32. Passed down through generations, battisa is not only sought after by the Nepali diaspora but also by those residing in Nepal.

Battisa, also known as ‘sutkeri ko ausedhi’ or ‘masala’ in Nepali, is important for women’s health. This traditional herbal mixture comprises 32 different spices and herbs, offering a holistic approach to health. Widely used in Nepal, especially during pregnancy and lactation, sutkeri masala has become an indispensable superfood in Nepali households for new mothers, aiding in their post-pregnancy recovery.

Considered a must-have for new mothers, sutkeri masala is not limited to any specific gender or age group. Crafted from a blend of 32 natural ingredients, this masala is an ideal addition to the postpartum diet, contributing to the quality and quantity of breast milk, and providing essential nutrients for newborns. Additionally, it aids in strengthening muscles and bones, boosting energy levels, and improving digestion, all of which are crucial aspects for new mothers.

Despite its name, sutkeri masala extends its benefits to people of all ages and genders. This mixture harnesses the healing properties of locally available medicinal and herbal plants. Used not just as food but also as Ayurvedic medicine, the production of sutkeri ko ausadhi varies across families and regions as it’s largely influenced by local customs.

Spices and herbs, staples in culinary and medicinal practices for centuries, not only enhance the flavor of food but also offer protection against acute and chronic diseases.

Battisa, with its potential medicinal properties and nutritional value, stands out as a traditional remedy in Nepal. Let’s delve into the individual herbs that constitute battisa powder:

• Amala (Indian gooseberry): Rich in vitamin C, boosts immunity, and possesses antibacterial and anti-inflammatory properties.
• Arjuna: Supports heart health by strengthening and toning the heart muscle.
• Ashwagandha: Manages stress, and anxiety, and boosts the immune system.
• Baayubidanga: Relieves headaches and insomnia.
• Barro: A great source of vitamin D and calcium.
• Bel (Wood apple): Effective for digestive issues and inflammation.
• Bhringaraja: Known for its antioxidant properties and immunity-building abilities.
• Gokhru (Tribulus terrestris): Useful for urinary disorders and improving sexual health.
• Harro (Chebulic myrobolon): Helps with nervous irritability and indigestion.
• Dalchini (Cinnamon): Balances insulin, improves gut health, and reduces infections.
• Kaphal (Bayberry): Helps with headaches, toothache, and eye problems.
• Kausso (Mucuna pruriens): Aids in improving sleep and reducing body fat.
• Kachur (East Indian arrowroot): Manages symptoms of cough and cold.
• Gurjo (Heart-leaved moonseed): Known for its immune-boosting properties.
• Jeera (Cumin): Stimulates milk production and provides iron, beneficial for new mothers.
• Jethimadhu (Liquorice root): Used to treat respiratory problems, skin infections, and more.
• Jwaano (Ajwain or Lovage): Helps with bloating, gas problems, and urinary tract diseases.
• Kurilo (Asparagus): Rich in folate, aids in pregnancy and breast milk production.
• Koirala (Mountain ebony): Used for various health issues, including diarrhea, heartburn, and skin diseases.
• Majitho (Indian madder): Beneficial for menstrual disorders and blood disorders.
• Marich (Black pepper): Improves blood sugar levels and lowers cholesterol.
• Nagkesar (Indian rose chestnut): Promotes blood flow and aids in wound healing.
• Naagarmoothe (Cyperus scariosus): Has anti-hyperglycemic and anti-inflammatory properties.
• Pasanbhed/Pakhanbhed (Rock foil coleus): Helps manage ulcers and relieves coughing.
• Pipala (Long pepper): Aids in digestion and milk production in lactating mothers.
• Punarnava (Spreading hog wood): Used for anemia, eye health, gout, and heart issues.
• Sataawar/Bankurilo (Wild asparagus): Supports healthy pregnancy outcomes and digestion.
• Shankhapuspee (Butterfly pea): Rich in antioxidants, reduces fatigue, and slows aging.
• Simal (Red cotton tree): Used for wound healing and stopping bleeding.
• Sutho (Dry ginger): Effective against germs, period pains, and bloating.
• Tejpat (Bay leaves): Acts as a stress buster, natural wound healer, improves digestion, and supports heart health.
• Thulo Okhati (Astilbe rivularis): Used for pre- and post-pregnancy recovery.

These herbs collectively offer a wide range of health benefits, making battisa powder a valuable traditional remedy in Nepal, especially for women’s health during pregnancy and post-pregnancy phases. Contrary to the assumption that traditional medicine is primarily relied upon by the poor and marginalized due to its accessibility, battisa enjoys popularity among all Nepali.

In light of this, it becomes crucial to foster a better understanding of the diverse knowledge and practices employed by traditional practitioners in Nepal. The preservation, promotion, and mainstreaming of traditional medicines and practices should be prioritized to avoid being perpetually caught in the rat race for market-developed superfoods.

The author is a UK-based R&D chef

According to the Kirat legend, the black soybean was the first crop cultivated by the people in Nepal. To avoid monotony, they created diverse ways to enjoy it, including raw, boiled, fried, crushed, and even fermented, giving birth to the iconic ‘kinema’.

Agricultural scientist and former principal director of agriculture, Sikkim, Jash Raj Subba mentions in his book ‘History, Culture, and Customs of Sikkim’ that according to the Kirat legend (Mundhum – an oral tradition of the Limbu), the black soybean was the first crop domesticated and cultivated by the Kiratas in this part of the country. The lone cultivated crop was thus consumed in various ways to avoid monotonous eating. They ate it raw, boiled with pods, dry frying, crushing, and fermenting, including the famous kinema.

This means the oldest Nepali fermented food is kinema. Crafting kinema is an age-old tradition passed down through generations. Dried soybeans are first husked, soaked overnight, and then boiled. The boiled soybeans are then smashed and pounded in a mortar and pestle (okhali) and then placed on the Newara leaves (Ficus roxburgh II) and put in a basket to activate microbial activity. After fermentation for a day or two with a mix of microbes and yeasts, particularly Bacillus subtilis, the result is a stringy-sticky mass infused with rich umami and meaty flavors.

Kinema is a food that you either love or love to hate. Many consider kinema smelly and don’t eat it, but some people even pay a higher price to get it. As a traveling research and development chef, I once encountered Natto, a traditional Japanese food made from fermented whole soybeans. But Natto and Kinema are not the same, although they are both fermented soybean products. 

Natto is a traditional Japanese food made from soybeans fermented with Bacillus subtilis var. natto bacteria. It has a characteristic strong smell, distinctive flavor, and a sticky texture due to the fermentation process. Kinema, conversely, is a fermented soybean product from Nepal, particularly popular among the Gurung ethnic group. It’s made by fermenting cooked soybeans with the fungus Rhizopus oligosporus. Kinema has a softer texture compared to natto and has a slightly sweet, sour taste.

While both natto and kinema are fermented soybean products, they originate from different cultures and use different fermentation agents, resulting in distinct flavors, textures, and culinary uses.

Fermented soybeans are indeed present in various cuisines around the world, each with its unique methods of preparation and flavors. Here are a few examples:

Tempeh (Indonesian cuisine): Tempeh is a traditional Indonesian fermented soybean product. It is made by fermenting cooked soybeans with a fungus called Rhizopus oligosporus. Tempeh has a firm texture and a nutty flavor. It’s commonly used in Indonesian cuisine as a protein source and can be fried, grilled, or used in various dishes.

Doenjang (Korean cuisine): Doenjang is a fermented soybean paste used in Korean cuisine. It’s made by fermenting soybeans with salt and a fermentation culture called meju. Doenjang has a savory, umami-rich flavor and is often used as a base for soups, stews, and sauces in Korean cooking.

Miso (Japanese cuisine): Miso is another fermented soybean paste used in Japanese cuisine. It’s made by fermenting soybeans with salt and a koji culture (Aspergillus oryzae). Miso comes in various colors and flavors, ranging from sweet to salty to savory, depending on the ingredients and fermentation time. It’s commonly used to make miso soup, dressings, marinades, and sauces in Japanese cooking.

Chao (Vietnamese cuisine): Chao is a fermented soybean paste used in Vietnamese cuisine. It’s made by fermenting cooked soybeans with salt and a fermentation culture. Chao has a salty, savory flavor and is often used as a condiment or seasoning in Vietnamese dishes.

These are just a few examples of fermented soybean products in different cuisines worldwide. Fermented soybeans are valued not only for their unique flavors but also for their nutritional benefits and versatility in cooking.

Similar to Japan’s natto, kinema is versatile. It can be sun-dried or incorporated into flavorful curries, with variations in preparation reflecting regional nuances. Despite its cultural significance, the tradition of making kinema faces challenges due to fewer individuals inheriting the knowledge.

To preserve this tradition, efforts are needed to document traditional methods, foster knowledge exchange, and raise awareness. Without such efforts, there’s a risk of losing this culinary heritage, impacting Nepali and Kirat cultural diversity.

The story of kinema is not just about a fermented soybean dish. It’s a tale of cultural heritage at risk of fading away. With concerted efforts, we can ensure that the flavors, traditions, and stories of Nepali cuisine remain intact for future generations to appreciate and cherish. 

The author is a UK-based R&D chef

Traditional ways of preserving food have been practiced for generations, and they vary across cultures. In Nepal, there are several traditional methods, and one interesting example is the technique mentioned in writer Kedar Sharma’s article. 

One method involves digging a hole in the ground and using traditional wooden containers called ‘Thekis’ to preserve curd for a year. This process likely relies on the natural coolness of the earth to keep the curd from spoiling. This technique showcases the ingenuity of preserving food using locally available resources and traditional knowledge.

Beyond this method, there are various other traditional ways in Nepal, which include sun-drying, smoking, fermenting, pickling, or using specific spices and herbs for preservation. Each method often reflects the cultural and environmental context of the region.

As a research and development chef, exploring these traditional techniques provides me with a rich source of inspiration and a deeper connection to the food culture of Nepal. It’s a way to celebrate and preserve culinary heritage while incorporating innovative ideas into my culinary creations.

Before we had our fancy fridges and modern ways of keeping food fresh, people used some clever methods to make sure they had something to eat even when fruits and veggies weren't in season. They would dry, ferment, pickle, cook in fat, use dry salt, cure, smoke, and even store food in cellars.

The main goal was to save food from the good harvest times so we could eat it later when we needed it. In Nepal, they often sun-dried extra fruits and veggies. They would spread them out under a thin cloth in the sun until they became all wrinkly and hard. If it was just a small amount, they might use something called ‘Naglo,’ and for bigger batches, they would use a ‘Mandro.’

After drying, they would hang the food in a cool storage room until it was time to eat it. When that time came, they would soak the dried food in water and cook it to make it tasty again. Fruits were easier to preserve than meat. Back in the day, people had to work hard to make sure they had enough safe and healthy food for their families all year round.

Even though we now have high-tech ways to keep our food fresh, there’s still something special about learning how to preserve food at home. It’s a skill that makes you feel proud, and it helps you understand more about what you’re eating.

Now, do you have any favorite items that you would like to preserve at home? I’ll run you through some simple methods to do that.

Sundrying

Sundrying is magic for preserving food. It’s used for things like drying fish, sidra, and meat for sukuti (which is sure to make your mouth water). This method is also used for radishes, spinach, cauliflower, tomatoes, and many other fruits and veggies. After they’re dried in the sun, they are stored until we want to eat them. When it’s time to enjoy them, we soak them in water and cook them up.

Pickling

Pickling is another cool way to preserve food, and in Nepal, we do it a bit differently than others. Instead of using vinegar or lemon, we sun-dry the fruits and veggies to get rid of the water. Then, we mix them with roasted spices and cover them with mustard oil. The special trick here is pairing the right herbs and spices with the fruits and veggies to make a flavorful pickle. Fennel, mustard seeds, mustard powder, fenugreek leaves, jwano, and mugrelo are the key players in this delicious game.

Fermentation

Fermenting food is an age-old tradition in Nepal, and one well-known fermented pickle is Mula ko Achar, especially loved in the mountainous regions. It’s like kimchi, made with chunky slices of white radish marinated with mustard seeds, cumin powder, red chili, turmeric powder, and green chili. It’s a tasty treat found all across Nepal. Similarly, raw mango pickle is popular in the Tarai region. These pickles are made by marinating the main ingredient with various spices.

Other preservation techniques

Apart from pickling, there are other methods too. Smoking, drying, and making concentrated forms of food are popular. Sugarcane juice turns into ‘Khuda’, and lemon transforms into ‘Amilo’, giving them a longer shelf life.

Special treats

There are also some forgotten foods in Nepal like Siramla, Sato Khatte, Chiura, Moori, and Bhooja that are ready to eat whenever we need them.

The pandemic lockdowns made us urban folks think about traditional ways of preserving food. Techniques like sidra, sukako maachha, and sukuti involve drying, salting, and sometimes smoking fish for long-term storage. These methods have been passed down through generations and are crucial in times of need.

So, whether it’s sun-drying, pickling, fermenting, smoking, or just concentrating flavors, there’s a treasure trove of traditional food preservation techniques in Nepal that can teach us a lot about making our food last longer and taste amazing.

The author is a UK-based R&D chef

There were days when Chepangs used to hunt bats, and it was a tradition in winter for all Chepang relatives to gather around and feast on tasty barbecued bats. I can romanticize the feast with flowery words. Sadly, many bat species around the world are vulnerable or endangered due to the loss of habitat, food, or roosts, pollution, disease, hunting, and killing.

The Chepangs, the most marginalized indigenous community of Nepal, have a special connection with bats (known as Chamero in Nepali) and Chiuri trees. According to their traditional stories, each of these three—Chepangs, bats, and Chiuri trees—depends on the other for survival.

Firstly, Chiuri trees are important for Chepangs because they provide things like butter, timber (wood for building), and fuelwood (for cooking and heating). The Chepangs take care of these trees, ensuring they thrive. On the other hand, bats play a crucial role in this ecosystem. They help Chiuri trees by pollinating their flowers, which is necessary for the trees to produce more Chiuri fruits.

Besides that, bats are also a part of Chepangs’ diet, serving as a traditional delicacy. It’s like a circle of dependency. Chiuri trees support the Chepangs, Chepangs take care of the trees, and bats contribute to the health of the Chiuri trees while also being a source of food for the Chepangs. This interdependence has likely developed over generations and is deeply rooted in the cultural and ecological practices of the Chepang community.

The Chepangs have a meaningful tradition where they gift a Chiuri tree during their daughter’s marriage, symbolizing their strong connection with the forests and a commitment to conservation. This tradition reflects their view of the Chiuri trees as vital resources, and they care for these trees like they take care of their children. Every part of the Chiuri tree is valuable to them, from its fruit and wood to its leaves and seeds.

They use the leaves ingeniously, turning them into makeshift bowls and plates. The forest of Chiuri trees also creates a suitable environment for beekeeping, leading to honey production that contributes to their income diversification.

However, in the present, the bats are gone, and the Chiuri trees are disappearing. This loss leaves many Chepangs without the support system of Chiuri and Chamero. Now, the question arises, how are the 84,366 Chepangs across 26 districts (as per the 2021 Nepal census) surviving without these essential elements?

My first experience with Chepangs is not one I can glorify. On a chilly January morning, a half-naked man was fishing in the Trishuli River, near Sital Bazar in Malekhu. I inquired about him, and the answer was ‘poor little Chepang.’ After finishing my SLC exam, I was ordered to go to Sital Bazar of Dhading to develop some property, which later became our home. I have interacted with many Chepangs, poor and malnourished, who were exploited by the ‘civilized’ Sahujis of the ‘developed’ area. I have a huge sympathy for them not only because many Chepang men and women have helped my mother survive in Sital Bazar but also because I feel that they were and still are cheated by the ‘civilized’ Sahujis and the system.

Chepangs were originally nomads and, with no knowledge of the land registration system, were forced to become landless farmers or slash-and-burn farmers. Their original land in the Mahabharat sub-Himalayan belt is now either with the government or inside protected areas or community forests.

Tagging the Chepang people only with Chamero and Chiuri is not fair to their vast knowledge of the forest. They have depended enormously on forest resources for food, fodder, fiber, medicine, housing, and various other needs. A close look into the traditional food culture of Chepang communities shows that wild edible and underutilized plant species play a special and important role in their food security. Further, it shows their enormous dependency on rich natural resources, especially forests.

One noteworthy work I have seen about Chepang knowledge is ‘Chepang Food Culture: Contribution of Wild Edible and Neglected Plant Species’ by Prakash Limbu and Keshab Thapa of LI-BIRD. In that 12-year-old book, the writers describe their relationship with some 30 natural resources.

In one chapter, they describe the use of Bharlang (Intoxicating yam-Dioscorea hispida Dennst) as follows: Though the tubers are poisonous, they are used as vegetables after detoxification of the poisonous chemicals during food deficit times. The rind of the tuber is removed, cut into thin slices, and then boiled for one or two hours, changing the water three to four times. Then, they are kept for about 20-24 hours in a flowing stream to remove the poisonous chemicals.

The writers Prakash Limbu and Keshab Thapa further say that before consumption, a slice is tasted by an expert, and then they are consumed as a staple food or made into vegetables. Due to the poisonous effects, these tubers are mostly used for preparing the local alcoholic drink. The process shows their hardships.

So, we must stop romanticizing their hard life. Instead, we need to document their knowledge and make it intersect with ‘scientific’ knowledge. The federal, provincial, and municipal authorities need to invest in practical and business-oriented knowledge so that the future of Chepang children is good and secure. Romanticizing their hardships will lead to further marginalization of the Chepang people and their knowledge.

The author is a UK-based R&D chef

Back when I was a student, I used to explore my mother’s kitchen boxes looking for something, even though I wasn’t sure what exactly. This searching habit would take over when my mother wasn’t around. One day, I opened a case carefully wrapped in cloth, and the wonderful smell immediately hit my nose and mind. It turned out to be Garam Masala. In those days, these spices were rare, but my father, who was an Indian Gurkha Soldier, probably brought them home.

The small container was filled with cinnamon, bay leaves, cardamom, cloves, mace (javitri), peppercorns, black cardamom (alachi), nutmeg (jayphal), and lots of Pipala – the Piper Longum. I never asked why there was more Pipala than other spices. Many years later, I realized that it was our own product and was freely available near the river stream next to our home. This spice is what makes our Garam Masala different from others in the Indian Subcontinent. We can compare Pipala to Timur (Sichuan pepper), which helps it stand out and represent Nepali cuisine in the culinary world.

Embarking on a journey through history, culture, and delicious flavors, Long Pepper, or Pipala, emerges as a hero among spices, tracing its roots to the heart of our culture. The cone-shaped pepper is like a hidden gem, connecting tales from ancient Ayurvedic traditions to Mediterranean opulence and medieval European kitchens.

Long pepper, known for its medicinal benefits in Ayurveda, has made a strong comeback in modern kitchens. This spice goes beyond just cooking; ancient texts highlight its role in improving health, desire, and vitality. From Ayurvedic remedies to aiding sleep and acting as a stimulant, long pepper adds an interesting layer to its culinary and medicinal significance.

Moving westward, Romans loved long pepper even more than black pepper. In ancient Rome, it was prestigious, commanding double the price of black pepper. The complexities of distinguishing between these peppers intrigued scholars like Pliny, emphasizing the mystery surrounding this spice. Throughout the medieval era, long pepper remained popular, with people even using it as currency and esteemed chefs listing it as an essential spice.

However, trade winds changed during the 15th and 16th centuries, favoring the accessibility of black pepper through sea routes. This flooded European markets and cast a shadow over long pepper. Forgotten for a while, long pepper recently reemerged.

In the modern culinary scene, Long Pepper is making a comeback, captivating chefs and spice enthusiasts alike. Dubbed the ‘forgotten spice,’ the unique flavor, reminiscent of Garam Masala, adds a special touch to dishes. With its inch-long cone structure and a blend of heat, musk, and sweetness, Long Pepper offers a sensory journey similar to an accordion playing out exotic flavors.

Nepal’s hilly and subtropical regions are where long pepper is cultivated. Flourishing in well-drained soils and thriving in slightly warm climates, this perennial climber often finds support in trees or other structures. The cultivation process, mainly organic, utilizes natural soil fertility, occasionally supplemented by cow dung as fertilizer. Harvesting long pepper spikes, the flowering parts of the plant, happens when they retain their green, pungent essence. Sun-drying these spikes until they achieve a distinctive grayish hue is crucial to the process.

The yield of long pepper in Nepal increases over time, with a substantial harvest following the plant’s third year. To maintain productivity, farmers periodically replace older vines. The economic and medicinal importance of long pepper in Nepal is significant. Serving as a financial safety net, its ability to be stored for extended periods post-drying allows farmers to sell it gradually, supplementing their income as needed. In traditional medicine, the roots and thicker stem parts are essential components in Ayurvedic and traditional healing systems.

In Nepali cuisine, long pepper fruits add a pungent flavor to dishes and contribute to pickles, preserves, and the revered Nepali Garam Masala. Medicinally, this spice is a go-to remedy for respiratory ailments such as cough, bronchitis, and asthma. Its peppery taste induces salivation and oral numbness, also serving as a counter-irritant and analgesic for muscular pains and inflammation.

Moreover, long pepper has diverse medicinal applications in Nepal, acting as a sedative, general tonic, hematinic, cholagogue, emmenagogue, anthelmintic, and addressing maladies like dysentery and leprosy.

To wrap it up, I want to share a quote from someone who commented anonymously on an article about Pipala: “I realized that we Nepali are like Kasturi (Deer musk), running around in search of prosperity. Even though valuable products like Pipala are abundant in the hills of Nepal, we are still facing challenges globally. I was hoping this article would guide me on how to connect Pipala to the market.” I completely agree with this line of thought. The issue is connecting the market to the people who harvest Pipala.

The author is a UK-based R&D chef

While exploring the streets of Istanbul, Turkey, I stumbled upon a charming sweetshop. Intrigued, I gestured towards one of the displayed sweets and placed an order. The friendly shopkeeper handed it to me with a big smile. Upon taking the first bite, a familiar taste reminiscent of my home country brought a smile to my face.

Later, I discovered that the sweet was Sekerpare (sheh-kehr-PAH-rih), a pastry that evoked the flavors of our own Aaitha (Lha) Mari, and Khurma Roti. So, what’s the connection between Turkish Sekerpare and Nepali Aaitha Mari? Sekerpare came to Turkey from Iran, where it is known as Shekarbura. The Persian words ‘shekar’ means sugar and ‘bura’ means to carve, cut, or split. In India, it’s called Shakharpara, with Northern India naming it Khurma, the same sweet made in our country during the Tihar festival.

The term ‘khurma’ translates to dates in Persian, indicating its Persian roots. Dates are a common ingredient in Northern Indian Khurma, providing a subtle sweetness and a soft texture to this delicacy. Over time, Khurma made its way into the kitchens of various Indian regions, each contributing its regional flavors and techniques to this beloved treat.

The basic ingredients for making Khurma include all-purpose flour, semolina, ghee, sugar, and various aromatic spices. These elements come together to create a deep-fried, pastry-like sweet, characterized by its crispy yet melt-in-your-mouth texture.

While the basic recipe remains consistent across India, variations of Khurma can be found in different states. In Rajasthan, for instance, a variation called Rajasthani Shakarpara incorporates the use of milk along with traditional ingredients, giving it a softer texture and appealing to those who prefer a chewier treat.

In South India, Khurma is often referred to as ‘Nei Urundai’ or Ghee Balls. Here, the sweet is prepared by rolling small portions of dough into round shapes, which are then coated with powdered sugar or coconut flakes. These bite-sized delights are perfect for festive occasions and are often enjoyed with a cup of aromatic filter coffee.

As Khurma entered Nepal, it took two separate paths. One followed the North Indian tradition, leading to the creation of Khurma Roti. The other path involved more experimentation with Shakarpara, resulting in the development of Aaitha Mari. The basic ingredients were changed, and an artistic touch was added, giving rise to Lakhamari.

Lakhamari is associated with marriages in the Newar community. In Kathmandu, Newars replace all-purpose flour with rice and lentil flour. Lakhamari is prepared by molding the mixture into various shapes and frying them in ghee or oil. After frying, they are immersed in chasni (sugar syrup) until ready.

The process begins with soaking rice and lentils throughout the day, usually left to soak overnight. The next day, the mixture is ground into a paste to make dough. Mixing water and ghee, the dough is kneaded well. Once it becomes soft, small balls are made and wrapped in cloth pieces. Following this, the Lakhamari dough is shaped in a pan and cooked.

During various festive occasions of Newars, 84 types of bread are prepared, with Lakhamari holding special significance. It serves as a symbol given by the boy’s side to confirm the completion of the marriage to the girl’s side.

The allure of Lakhamari extends beyond its flavors. Its presence in significant life events, especially marriage ceremonies, signifies reverence. It’s showcased prominently as part of the groom’s gifts to the bride’s family, known as ‘sagun.’ The name Lakhamari epitomizes its central role, prominently displayed alongside other ceremonial items, marking its integral place in Nepali traditions.

This revered sweet, with its extended shelf life of three to four months in sealed packets, holds immense export potential for the Nepali diaspora. Its popularity within the Nepali community worldwide provides an opportunity to introduce and showcase Nepali culinary heritage on a global stage. The rising global demand for authentic ethnic foods creates a favorable climate for Lakhamari’s integration into international markets.

The Nepali diaspora can serve as ambassadors for Lakhamari, championing its authenticity and cultural significance. Collaborating with local distributors, employing innovative packaging for prolonged freshness, and strategic marketing emphasizing its rich heritage could facilitate successful export endeavors. Additionally, diversifying flavors and shapes to cater to varied tastes while preserving its essence could broaden its appeal among international audiences.

My experience of treating myself to these delicious snacks, especially Lakhamari, which served as my all-day bites, highlights the enduring connection between food and cherished memories. Food possesses a remarkable ability to evoke emotions and transport us back to moments filled with joy and contentment, reminding us of special times in our lives.

Even after all these years, the flavors and experiences associated with Lakhamari and the meals from Lakhamari Chhen at Sorha Khutte, Kathmandu, remain a nostalgic and treasured part of my past, symbolizing not just a culinary delight but a portal to cherished memories from my college days.The author is a UK-based R&D chef

Did you know that in Newari culture, there’s a special day dedicated to enjoying citrus fruits? Kartik Shukla Navami, the ninth day of the bright Kartik month, is considered auspicious and is known as ‘akshay’ or ‘kushmand navami’. In Kathmandu, the Newars celebrate this day, called ‘jwa’ or ‘juga naami’, by indulging in various citrus fruits and dishes made from them.

Each food or fruit has deep roots in Nepali culture. Our ancestors, for sustainability, invented various methods, and one such method is making ‘chuk amilo’, allowing us to enjoy a tangy or acidic flavor all year round.

Food preservation has been an integral part of human civilization for thousands of years, playing a crucial role in ensuring food availability during scarcity and preserving culinary traditions for future generations. In the picturesque hilly mountain regions of Nepal, chuk amilo, a molasse-like extract derived from the nibuwa fruit, has been cherished for generations, preserving not only the essence of the fruit but also the rich heritage of Nepalis culture.

The concept of food preservation has been a constant companion to human beings in their quest for survival. From early civilizations to modern times, people have developed various techniques to store and extend the shelf life of perishable foods, ensuring sustenance during challenging times and allowing communities to relish the tastes and traditions of their ancestors.

Food preservation techniques vary across regions and cultures, with each method making a unique contribution to the culinary world. Some common methods include drying, salting, smoking, canning, pickling, fermenting, and the use of preservatives, chosen based on available resources, local ingredients, and culinary traditions.

Chuk amilo stands as a shining example of food preservation in Nepal. The nibuwa fruit, also known as Nepali lemon, thrives in the fertile soils of Nepal’s mountains, particularly between October and April. To create chuk amilo, the juice is extracted and cooked slowly, resulting in a dark, aromatic, and pungent substance that captures the essence of the nibuwa fruit.

The Nibuwa fruit is remarkable not only for its impressive size but also for its distinctive sour flavor, making it an essential part of Nepali kitchen cabinets. The scarcity of ghee, chuk amilo, and khudo in a household’s kitchen can impact the ability to prepare traditional Nepali dishes.

Food holds a special place in many cultures and running low on essential ingredients can impact overall well-being. The preservation of chuk amilo carries the magic of tradition and cultural significance. Beyond its delightful taste, chuk amilo offers a range of medicinal properties, aiding digestion, reducing swelling, and alleviating pain associated with urinary problems, kidney stones, and toothaches. Traditional remedies passed down through generations attest to its healing qualities.

In Nepali culture, chuk amilo is celebrated not only for its medicinal properties but also for its nostalgic value. It is often associated with cherished memories of mothers and grandmothers skillfully using this culinary treasure in their recipes, symbolizing the warmth of family kitchens and the love poured into every dish. Chuk amilo is known to alleviate pain from fractured bones and even soothe the effects of a night of indulgence, making it a versatile and beloved ingredient.

Chuk amilo is more than just an ingredient, it embodies the essence of Nepali culture and traditions. Passed down through generations, its unique preparation and preservation methods have become an integral part of Nepali culinary heritage. The slow cooking process and the use of high-quality lemons continue to uphold this valuable tradition, allowing it to be enjoyed throughout the year.

Food preservation, in general, is a way of preserving culinary traditions and flavors, ensuring they are passed down from one generation to the next. It honors the knowledge and skills of ancestors and maintains a connection to cultural roots. 

As we savor the tangy flavor and bask in the healing properties of chuk amilo, it connects us with nature's abundance and the remarkable wisdom of our ancestors. Its versatility in enhancing flavors and providing medicinal benefits makes it an indispensable part of Nepali cuisine. Chuk amilo is a testament to the rich biodiversity of Nepal’s hilly mountain regions and the sustainable practices passed down through generations.

Chuk amilo is not just a culinary delight; it is a treasure that binds us to our roots, memories, and the legacy of a proud nation. Every drop of this precious molasse carries the essence of Nepal’s hilly mountain regions and the love of those who have preserved its traditions. As we experience the magic of chuk amilo in our Nepali pickles (achar) or find relief from an ailment, let it be a reminder of the rich heritage we carry and the love of our mothers who made our kitchens come alive with this special ingredient.

The author is a UK-based R&D chef