Why fermented foods matter in the face of climate change

Climate change is causing big problems for Nepal’s farming, putting food security, jobs, and the economy at risk. Scientists say Nepal is the fourth most vulnerable country in the world when it comes to climate impacts, and it also ranks high on the Global Hunger Index. The effects of climate change are already being felt in farming, forestry, and fishing. 

Experts warn that many districts in Nepal could face food shortages in the future. To tackle this, they recommend ‘Climate Smart Agriculture.’ But while new technologies are important, we shouldn’t forget the wisdom of our ancestors. Traditional food preservation methods, like fermentation, could be a powerful tool to fight food insecurity caused by climate change.

Fermentation is one of the oldest ways to preserve food. In Nepal, a country with diverse landscapes, cultures, and cuisines, fermentation has been a key part of life for centuries. From the high Himalayas to the Terai plains, every community has its own unique fermented foods. These foods are not just about survival—they are also about culture, nutrition, and flavor.

Fermentation is a natural process that uses bacteria or yeast to preserve food. It makes food last longer and adds new flavors and textures. Fermented foods are also rich in probiotics, which are good for gut health. In Nepal, with its 128 ethnic groups, fermented foods are a treasure trove of tradition and nutrition. Let’s take a closer look at some of these foods and how they can help us adapt to climate change.

Kinema (fermented soybean)

Kinema is a protein-rich food made from fermented soybeans. To make kinema, cooked soybeans are wrapped in banana leaves and left to ferment for a few days. The result is a sticky, strong-smelling food with a rich umami flavor. It’s used in stews, stir-fries, or eaten as a side dish.

Chhurpi (fermented cheese)

Chhurpi is a type of cheese made from yak or cow milk. It comes in two forms: soft and hard. The hard version can last for years, making it a great food for harsh climates. Soft chhurpi is used in soups and stews, while the hard version is chewed as a snack. 

Serkam (fermented butter) 

Serkam is fermented butter used in Tibetan and Sherpa diets. It’s a key ingredient in butter tea and traditional stews. The fermentation process gives it a rich, unique flavor.

Gundruk (fermented leafy greens)

Gundruk is one of Nepal’s most famous fermented foods. It’s made from mustard, radish, or cauliflower leaves. The leaves are wilted, packed tightly, and left to ferment before being sun-dried. Gundruk is used in soups, curries, and as a pickle.

Sinki (fermented radish taproot)

Sinki is similar to gundruk but made from radish taproots. The radish is packed into bamboo containers and left to ferment for weeks. The result is a tangy, pungent food that can be stored for years.

Purano mula (fermented radish)

Up to 40 years ago, fermented radishes were a common sight in Kathmandu’s Asan Bazar. These radishes were used in pickles, stews, and other dishes, adding a unique flavor.

Tama (bamboo shoot) 

Tama is fermented bamboo shoots, a popular ingredient in Nepali cuisine. It’s used in curries, pickles, and chutneys, giving dishes a tangy flavor.

Akbare chili and salt (naturally fermented chili)

This simple yet powerful fermentation process involves preserving bird’s eye chili in salt. The result is a fiery condiment full of flavor.

Khalpi (fermented cucumber pickle)

Khalpi is a pickle made from overripe cucumbers. It’s fermented with salt, mustard seeds, and spices, creating a cooling and digestive-friendly condiment.

Dahi (yogurt) & lassi

Fermented milk products like yogurt and lassi are popular in Nepal. They are known for their probiotic benefits and are often set in clay pots to enhance flavor.

Masyaura, biriya, and tilkor tarua

These are protein-rich fermented foods made from lentils or black gram. They are used in curries and stews, providing essential nutrients.

Fermented mustard pickles

Mustard seeds are a key ingredient in Nepali pickles. They add a pungent flavor and have antimicrobial properties that help preserve the pickles.

Traditional alcoholic beverages

Fermentation is also used to make traditional drinks like tongba, jaad, and raksi. These beverages are part of cultural celebrations and rituals.

With climate change threatening food security, fermented foods offer a sustainable solution. They are easy to make, require no electricity, and can be stored for long periods. They are also packed with nutrients and probiotics, making them a healthy choice. As the world becomes more interested in gut health and probiotics, Nepal’s fermented foods could gain global attention. Scientists are already studying how these traditional methods can improve food security and health.

But perhaps the most important lesson is this: Adapting to climate change isn’t just about adopting new technologies. It’s also about revisiting the traditional knowledge of our communities. Fermented foods are a perfect example of how ancient wisdom can help us face modern challenges. By preserving and promoting these foods, we can ensure a more secure and sustainable future for Nepal.

The author is a London-based R&D chef

Ginger: Nepal’s golden spice with a global future

In my childhood home in Pokhara, ginger was never something we bought from the market. It grew quietly in our kitchen garden, a humble yet essential part of our daily lives. My mother, a firm believer in self-sufficiency, would plant ginger rhizomes in neat rows, and I, her little helper, would water them diligently. She would clear the soil, mix in rice husks for better drainage, and then let the ginger grow with minimal care. It was one of the easiest crops to cultivate—hardy, low-maintenance, and incredibly rewarding. When harvest time came, we would dig up the rhizomes, store them for the year, and even sell some when prices were high.

Ginger (Zingiber officinale) is believed to have originated in the tropical rainforests of Southeast Asia over 5,000 years ago. Ancient Sanskrit and Chinese texts highlight its medicinal properties, and it quickly became a prized commodity along the spice trade routes. From its origins, ginger traveled to India, where it became a cornerstone of Ayurvedic medicine and cuisine, and to China, where it was revered for its warming properties and ability to balance the body’s energies.

Nepal, nestled between these two cultural giants, naturally adopted ginger into its traditions. The fertile mid-hills of Nepal, with their subtropical to temperate climates, are ideal for ginger cultivation. 

According to Ghanashyam Chaudhary, in his paper for ‘Horticulture Nepal’, there are two main types of ginger varieties: Nashe (rich in fiber) and Boshe (low in fiber). The Boshe variety is considered superior due to its better yield, quality, and higher market price. Nashe varieties, with their high fiber content, are preferred by the spice industry for producing ginger powder.

Ginger thrives in well-drained, loamy soils enriched with organic matter, such as rice husks or compost—a practice I vividly remember from my mother’s garden. The crop requires minimal care, making it accessible even to small-scale farmers. While ginger is primarily cultivated, wild varieties can still be found in Nepal’s forests, particularly in the eastern and central regions. These wild varieties, though smaller and more pungent, are sometimes used in traditional remedies.

Ginger’s reputation as a superfood is well-deserved. Packed with bioactive compounds like gingerol, shogaol, and zingerone, it offers a wide range of health benefits. Ginger is a natural remedy for nausea, vomiting, and indigestion. Gingerol has potent anti-inflammatory and antioxidant effects, helping reduce muscle pain and symptoms of osteoarthritis.

Ginger’s antimicrobial properties help fight infections, while its warming effect improves circulation and immunity. Ginger may help lower blood pressure and cholesterol levels, reducing the risk of heart disease. Emerging research suggests ginger may inhibit the growth of certain cancer cells.

Ginger’s versatility in the kitchen is unmatched. In Nepal, it’s a key ingredient in traditional dishes like gundruk ko jhol (fermented leafy green soup) and purano achar (a traditional radish pickle). It’s also used to flavor teas, known as adhuwa chiya, which are especially popular during the cold winter months.

Globally, ginger is a staple in Asian stir-fries, Indian curries, and Middle Eastern desserts. It’s also used to make ginger candies, which are popular for soothing sore throats and nausea. Modern trends like ginger shots—small, concentrated doses of ginger juice—have gained popularity for their health benefits, particularly among health-conscious consumers. In Nepal, this trend is gradually gaining traction, with local entrepreneurs exploring opportunities to produce and market ginger-based products like juices, candies, and health supplements.

In Ayurveda, ginger is known as Mahaushadha, or the ‘great medicine,’ due to its wide-ranging therapeutic properties. It’s classified as a rasayana (rejuvenating herb) and is used to balance the vata and kapha doshas. Modern medicine has also embraced ginger, using it in various remedies.

Nepal has immense potential to become a major exporter of ginger, given its high-quality produce and organic farming practices. The global demand for ginger is on the rise, driven by its health benefits and culinary uses. Key export markets include India, China, the Middle East, and Europe.

However, challenges such as inadequate infrastructure, lack of processing facilities, and limited access to international markets hinder Nepal’s ginger export potential. Addressing these issues through government support, private sector investment, and international partnerships could unlock significant economic opportunities for Nepali farmers.

As Ghanashyam Chaudhary writes, improving storage capacity, reducing farming costs through mechanization, and developing efficient technical packages for ginger root rot management are crucial steps. Diversifying products and ensuring timely access to inputs like irrigation, fertilizer, and plant protection can further enhance ginger production. Collective marketing by farmers can also help them secure better prices for their produce.

The author is a London-based R&D chef

Methi: The unique identity of Nepali cuisine

If anyone asked me, even in a dream, what my favorite spice is, my answer would always be fenugreek—methi dana, the methi seed. Perhaps it’s because it was my mother’s favorite spice. She never claimed methi as her favorite spice, but she used it to temper almost every curry, pickle, and achar she prepared. She would add methi when soaking rice for sel roti, Nepal’s favorite snack, shared by all 128 communities across the country.

One particular memory stands out: She used to prepare a summer drink called ‘misri kada.’ She soaked methi seeds overnight with rock sugar (misri) and strained the mixture to create a refreshing morning drink. This simple concoction helped us stay cool during the scorching summer heat. Methi’s magic was also evident in the western parts of Nepal, where dishes like the famous ‘chukani’ were always tempered with methi seeds, just like Kathmandu Valley’s renowned ‘choila’.

As a 44-year-old Nepal-born British chef, my current aim is to distinguish Nepali cuisine from other South Asian cuisines and establish its unique identity on the global food map. I believe methi will play a central role in this endeavor. While Indian and other South Asian kitchens often use cumin or mustard seeds for tempering, Nepali kitchens rely on methi dana. Did you know that the dominant flavor in India’s best butter chicken and the UK’s favorite chicken tikka masala comes from methi leaves? 

Methi’s origins can be traced back over 4,000 years to the fertile crescent region, where it was first cultivated in ancient Mesopotamia. Historical texts and archaeological evidence suggest that the Egyptians used methi as part of their embalming processes and as a flavoring agent in their bread. Its journey from the Middle East to the Indian subcontinent was facilitated by ancient trade routes. By the time methi reached Indian shores, it had already become integral to Ayurvedic medicine and Indian cuisine.

In India, the seeds (methi dana) and leaves (fresh methi or kasuri methi) are used in a variety of dishes. Methi seeds are small, golden-brown, and hard, with a slightly bitter taste that mellows and deepens when roasted or cooked. The leaves, on the other hand, are fresh, green, and aromatic, lending a unique flavor to curries, breads, and stir-fries.

One of the reasons methi is so revered in Indian cuisine is its versatility. Methi seeds are a common component of spice blends such as panch phoron and sambar powder. They add a distinct bitterness that balances the richness of curries. Fresh methi leaves are kneaded into dough to make methi parathas, theplas, and naans. The leaves impart an earthy aroma and flavor that make these breads unique. Methi seeds are often added to Indian pickles, where their bitterness cuts through the tangy, spicy, and oily flavors. Perhaps one of the most interesting uses of methi is its addition to dosa batter, a South Indian staple made from fermented rice and lentils.

Methi’s unique ability to enhance flavor can be attributed to its complex chemical composition. The seeds contain compounds such as sotolone, which gives methi its characteristic maple syrup-like aroma, and trigonelline, which contributes to its bitterness. When methi seeds are roasted, these compounds undergo chemical transformations that release nutty, caramel-like notes.

In culinary science, methi acts as a flavor enhancer because it provides balance and depth to dishes. Bitterness, when used in moderation, can counteract excessive sweetness or acidity in a dish, creating a harmonious flavor profile. This is why methi is often paired with rich and spicy foods—its bitterness provides a necessary contrast that enhances the overall eating experience.

The addition of methi seeds to dosa batter is a centuries-old practice rooted in both science and tradition. Methi seeds contain galactomannan, a natural gum that aids in fermentation. When soaked and ground with rice and lentils, it promotes the growth of beneficial bacteria, leading to a light, airy batter that yields crispy dosas. The mucilaginous (slimy) property of methi seeds improves the batter’s viscosity, ensuring even spreading on the griddle and resulting in dosas with the perfect texture. The subtle bitterness of methi offsets the sourness of the fermented batter, creating a nuanced flavor profile that elevates the dosa’s taste.

Methi’s journey doesn’t end in India. It continues to be a cornerstone of Nepali cuisine. In Nepal, methi seeds are known as ‘methi dana,’ and they hold a special place in traditional cooking and rituals. Fresh methi leaves, often referred to as ‘saag,’ are widely consumed in curries and stir-fries.

One of the most iconic uses of methi seeds in Nepal is in the preparation of ‘achaar’ (pickle). Methi is dry-roasted and ground into a powder, which is then mixed with mustard oil, chili, and other spices to create tangy and spicy pickles that are a staple in every Nepali household.

Methi is also an essential ingredient in ‘gundruk ko jhol,’ a traditional soup made from fermented leafy greens. The bitterness of methi seeds complements the sourness of the gundruk, creating a dish that is as nutritious as it is flavorful.

What sets Nepal apart in its use of methi is its emphasis on the ingredient’s medicinal properties. In many rural areas, methi seeds are chewed raw or soaked overnight in water to treat digestive issues, joint pain, and hormonal imbalances. The traditional belief that food is medicine is deeply ingrained in Nepali culture, and methi epitomizes this philosophy.

Furthermore, methi is a key ingredient in ‘sel roti,’ a traditional Nepali rice flour doughnut. A pinch of methi powder is added to the batter to enhance the flavor and balance the sweetness of this festive treat.

Methi’s journey from ancient Mesopotamia to South Asia has been marked by its unparalleled ability to enhance flavor, promote health, and adapt to a variety of culinary traditions. By celebrating this humble yet extraordinary spice, we not only enrich our meals but also honor the culinary wisdom of our ancestors.

The author is a London-based R&D chef

Nostalgic breakfast of Kathmandu valley

When I first moved to Kathmandu from Pokhara for my studies, everything felt new and overwhelming. Away from the warmth of home and my mother’s cooking, I longed for familiar flavors. Living on a student budget meant I couldn’t indulge in culinary luxuries every day, but there was one breakfast that became my solace: ‘Haluwa-swari’, ‘jeri-swari’, paired with ‘tato tato chiya’ (hot tea) and ‘piro aalu kerau tarkari’. It was a taste of comfort in a city that felt unfamiliar.

What is haluwa?

Haluwa is a sweet semolina pudding that is rich, buttery, and fragrant. Made primarily from semolina (suji), ghee (clarified butter), sugar, and milk or water, it’s flavored with cardamom and garnished with nuts and dried fruits such as almonds, cashews, and raisins. The cooking process involves roasting semolina in ghee until golden brown, then adding sweetened milk or water and stirring until it achieves a thick, smooth consistency.

Haluwa’s luxurious texture and rich flavor make it a dish of celebration, often prepared during festivals, pujas, and special occasions. However, when paired with swari, it transforms into a humble yet indulgent breakfast. The slightly grainy texture of haluwa, combined with the flaky, crisp swari, creates a delightful contrast.

What is swari?

Swari is a flaky, deep-fried flatbread that resembles puri but is slightly thicker and less oily. Made from wheat flour, a touch of ghee, and water, the dough is rolled into small discs and fried until golden and puffy. Swari has a soft interior and a crisp exterior, making it an ideal accompaniment to both sweet and savory dishes.

In the context of haluwa-swari, the swari acts as the perfect vehicle for scooping up the rich, sweet haluwa. Its neutral taste balances the sweetness of haluwa, making every bite a harmonious blend of flavors and textures. Swari’s versatility also makes it an excellent companion for piro aalu kerau tarkari, demonstrating its importance in Nepali breakfasts.

What is jeri?

Jeri, known as jalebi in other South Asian cuisines, is a spiral-shaped, deep-fried sweet soaked in sugar syrup. Made from a fermented batter of all-purpose flour and yogurt, the mixture is piped into hot oil in circular patterns and fried until crispy. Once golden, the jeri is immediately immersed in warm sugar syrup, allowing it to absorb the syrup and become irresistibly sweet and sticky.

Jeri is often served alongside swari, creating the iconic jeri-swari pairing. The crispy, syrup-soaked jeri provides a burst of sweetness that contrasts beautifully with the flaky, neutral swari. This combination is both decadent and comforting, making it a favorite breakfast or snack for those seeking a touch of indulgence.

What is aalu kerau tarkari?

Aalu kerau tarkari is a spicy potato and green pea curry that embodies the essence of Nepali comfort food. Made with boiled potatoes and fresh or dried green peas (kerau), the dish is seasoned with turmeric, cumin, coriander, chili powder, and mustard seeds. A touch of garlic, ginger, and fresh coriander enhances its aroma and flavor.

This dish is beloved for its simplicity and versatility. The potatoes absorb the spices beautifully, while the green peas add a burst of sweetness and texture. When paired with swari, aalu kerau tarkari becomes a hearty and satisfying breakfast. Its spicy kick is perfectly complemented by a cup of hot Nepali tea, making it a favorite among students and workers alike.

The cultural significance

This breakfast combination of haluwa-swari, jeri-swari, and aalu kerau tarkari holds a unique place in the food culture of Kathmandu Valley. Rooted in the Newar community, it represents a blend of traditional flavors and modern-day convenience. While the Newars are renowned for their elaborate feasts and unique culinary practices, this breakfast showcases their ability to create balanced and wholesome meals that are both delicious and practical.

In the bustling streets of Kathmandu, small tea shops and eateries serve this breakfast to locals and visitors alike. It’s common to see people gathered around, sipping hot tea and savoring each bite of haluwa-swari or jeri-swari, often while engaging in animated conversations. For students and young professionals, this breakfast offers a sense of comfort and nostalgia, evoking memories of simpler times.

For many, this breakfast is not just about the food. It’s about the memories it carries. It takes one back to the early mornings in Kathmandu, the warmth of a bustling tea shop, and the camaraderie of friends. It’s a reminder of the small luxuries that brought immense joy during student life—a time when every bite was savored not just for its taste but for the connection it fostered.

As a student from Pokhara living in Kathmandu, the absence of home-cooked meals often made this breakfast a cherished ritual. It was more than just sustenance. It was a moment of solace and indulgence amidst the challenges of academic life. Even today, living far from Nepal, the thought of haluwa-swari, jeri-swari, and aalu kerau tarkari evokes a deep sense of longing and pride in the culinary heritage of Kathmandu Valley.

Why hasn’t this breakfast gone global?

While Nepali momo have gained international fame, this iconic breakfast has yet to make its mark globally. One reason could be the intricacy involved in preparing these dishes, especially the perfect swari and the syrup-soaked jeri. Additionally, the breakfast’s cultural context and deep-rooted connection to Kathmandu’s street food culture make it challenging to replicate the same experience elsewhere.

However, this also adds to its charm. The exclusivity of haluwa-swari, jeri-swari, and aalu kerau tarkari keeps it special, preserving its status as a beloved breakfast of Kathmandu Valley. For those who have moved away from Nepal, the nostalgia associated with this breakfast keeps it alive in their hearts, even if it is not readily available.

Haluwa-swari, jeri-swari, and aalu kerau tarkari are a celebration of Nepali culinary artistry and a testament to the rich food culture of Kathmandu Valley. For those who have experienced it, this breakfast is a cherished memory, a taste of home, and a symbol of simpler, happier times. While it may not yet have traveled globally like momo, its significance remains unparalleled for those who hold it close to their hearts.

The author is a London-based R&D chef

 

 

Celebrating uncle blazing

My journey with ‘Akbare chili’ began unexpectedly. I left Nepal at a tender age and knew little about our heritage cuisines, forgotten foods, indigenous crops, and local produce. While working at Do & Co International, a day changed my perception of cooking forever. Among my team, there was Krishna, a Nepali-speaking bhai from Darjeeling. I was his supervisor and the head of Asian cooking at the time.

During a mentoring session, I emphasized keeping cooking simple, embracing the concept of ‘less is more,’ and advocating for heritage, authenticity, and local, simple cooking. “Cooking should not be rocket science,” I always said. After the session, Krishna approached me with something special—Dalle Akbare pickle. It was naturally fermented and made with just two ingredients: salt and Akbare Chili.

That pickle was a revelation. It was tasty, aromatic, and authentic, embodying generational cooking techniques and traditions. That simple jar of pickle taught me so much about the essence of cooking: less is more, local is better, and authenticity is king. This experience changed my entire perspective on cooking and deepened my appreciation for heritage recipes and ingredients like Akbare chili.

Akbare khursani, also known as dalle khursani, red cherry pepper chili, or simply dalle, holds a legendary status in the world of chilies. Revered for its addictive spiciness and unique aroma, this chili pepper is a cornerstone of Nepali cuisine and culture. Many Nepalis think its origins and identity are deeply tied to Nepal’s eastern mid-hill regions, but it shares its fame with regions in Bhutan, Northeast India, and Nepal. Even the name of this chili comes from the Bhutanese language, ‘Akubari,’ which translates to ‘Uncle Blazing’ and has nothing to do with King Akbar of India.

Akbare khursani is a polyploidal variety of pepper, the only known one of its kind. It belongs to the family Solanaceae and genus Capsicum. The plant thrives in the cool, subtropical climate of Nepal’s eastern hills, growing to heights of 100-130 cm in open fields and up to 150-180 cm in greenhouse conditions. It’s a hardy plant with a long growing season, making it well-suited for cultivation in Ilam and surrounding districts.

Akbare chili is not only a flavor powerhouse but also a nutritional treasure. It’s exceptionally rich in Vitamin C, with 100 grams containing 240 mg—five times more than an orange. It also boasts high levels of Vitamin A (11,000 IU) and Vitamin E (0.7 mg), along with potassium, making it a healthful addition to any diet. The chili’s pungency ranges from 100,000 to 350,000 Scoville Heat Units (SHU), placing it in the same heat category as the Habanero pepper. This fiery heat, combined with its rich, fruity aroma, makes it a favorite for culinary uses and pickling.

Akbare Khursani is a versatile ingredient in Nepali cuisine. Its spiciness and flavor elevate traditional dishes, and it’s consumed in various forms. Whole chilis are often served as a relish alongside dal bhat (rice and lentils). Chopped, it’s used as a seasoning in vegetable and meat curries. The paste is blended into chutneys and sauces, particularly for momos (dumplings). It can be transformed into dalle achaar, a tangy and spicy pickle cherished across Nepal as well as combined with yak buttermilk to create a unique fermented delicacy.

Despite being associated with the eastern hill districts, including Bhojpur, Ilam, Sankhuwasabha, Taplejung, and Terhathum, the growing demand from noodle companies is encouraging farmers to cultivate more Akbare chili. For example, farmers of Ribdikot Rural Municipality in Palpa sold Akbare chilies worth more than Rs. 60 million in 2024—Rs. 20 million more than in 2023, when chilies worth Rs. 40 million were sold. A single farmer can earn up to one million rupees just by selling Akbare.

With the increasing demand for hot and spicy noodles, the cultivation of Akbare chilli has also expanded in Nepal.

A technical paper by Damodar Poudyal and his team, Akabare Chili Amplifies the Household Income of Farmers in the Mid-hills of Nepal, shows that chili consumption in Nepal has increased over the years, with total per capita capsicum consumption reaching 9.5 kg in 2021. Similarly, the per capita consumption of Akbare chili in 2021 was 0.47 kg, 34 percent higher than in 2020 (Poudyal et al., 2023). The number of districts cultivating Akbare chili in the mid-hills of Nepal has also increased. In 2021, Akbare chili was grown in 54 districts—nearly 13 percent more than in 2018.

Given its historical presence and cultural value in Nepali kitchens, the fresh and processed market for Akbare chili has expanded over the years. There is strong demand for Akbare chili within Nepal, along with ample opportunities to grow the business. An improved marketing system with a buyback guarantee would not only strengthen the chili economy but also create employment opportunities and attract young people to farming. 

The author is a London-based R&D chef

The unsustainable ‘kodoski’

The new generation might not be familiar with the term ‘kodoski,’ but it was quite popular in our time. The term is a simple combination of two words: ‘kodo’ (millet) and ‘raksi’ (liquor). I was familiar with millet liquor but had never heard of ‘tongba’. 

When I arrived at the Gurkha Welfare Center in Sorhakhutte, Kathmandu, for higher studies, I was introduced to tongba—a traditional, indigenous, hot, millet-based alcoholic beer from Eastern Nepal. During the cold winter evenings in Kathmandu, tongba, paired with a plate of momo and crispy sukuti (dried meat), made for excellent company.

Millet, particularly kodo (Paspalum scrobiculatum), has historically been considered the food of the poor. There was a time when people would cook millet dishes secretly. If someone was preparing dhido (a traditional millet dish) and an important guest visited, the family would hide the dhido and cook rice instead to serve the guest. Society unnecessarily glorified rice over millet.

Times have changed. Urban restaurants now include millet-based dishes in their menus, which has helped elevate the prestige of kodo. Media and society have also highlighted the health benefits of millet. Additionally, the demand for kodo-based raksi and tongba has surged. While tongba was traditionally a winter drink, it’s now available year-round.

The Gandaki Rural Municipality in Gorkha has begun producing and distributing local liquor under the brand name ‘Gandaki kodo ko raksi’ (Gandaki millet liquor), with other municipalities following suit. However, Nepalis are consuming millet products, including kodoski, unsustainably and often associating them unnecessarily with national pride. It’s essential for all Nepali to understand that Kodo isn’t exclusive to Nepal. It’s also widely popular in India. In Bengali and Odia languages, this millet is called kodo, while in Hindi, Marathi, Punjabi, and Gujarati, it is known as kodra—a name derived from the Sanskrit word kotrawa.

Kodo or millet originated in Africa and was domesticated in the Indian subcontinent around 3,000 years ago. Known for its drought-resistant properties, it thrives in dry regions and is one of the world’s oldest grains. Both African and Asian countries cultivate this millet in dry and semi-arid climates, where it serves as a staple food crop. In India, kodo is primarily grown in the Deccan region, the southern peninsula, and areas south of the Narmada River, with cultivation extending to the foothills of the Himalayas, including Nepal.

Millet is an excellent grain to consume due to its nourishing nutritional profile, making it a suitable replacement for rice or wheat. It contains significantly more protein, fiber, and minerals than rice, one of the major staple grains. Millet is particularly high in protein, with an eight percent composition. It also contains glutelin protein. Compared to wheat (0.2 percent fiber) and rice (0.2 percent fiber), kodo stands out as a top-quality source of dietary fiber, boasting nine percent fiber content.

In Nepal, a remarkable diversity of about 22 millet species exists, serving multiple purposes ranging from food and feed to fodder. These include both cultivated and wild varieties.

According to official data, Nepal imported 15.2m kilograms of millet worth Rs 754.43m in the fiscal year 2023/24. In 2022/23, imports were higher, totaling 18.4m kilograms valued at Rs 732m. Notably, 2023 was declared the International Year of Millet (IYM) by the United Nations General Assembly during its seventy-fifth session.

Looking back, in 2008/09, Nepal imported 12.37m kilograms of millet valued at Rs 65.32m. Despite being the world’s 13th largest producer of millet, Nepal’s production has been insufficient to meet the growing demand. The majority of Nepal’s millet imports come from India.

A 2020 study by the Food and Agriculture Organization (FAO) reported that Nepal produced 320,953 tons of millet that year, while India produced a staggering 12.49m tons. In the previous fiscal year, Nepal imported 15.29m kilograms of millet from India.

If Nepal wants to consume more millet, the country needs to increase domestic production. Otherwise, millet will become yet another item that makes Nepal dependent on imports.

To adopt a sustainable approach to millet production, Arjun Prasad Khanal of the Ministry of Agriculture and Livestock Development, Nepal, wrote in the International Journal of Environmental and Agriculture Research in 2023, “Nepal needs to bring the millet crop from its existing state of ‘marginal, underutilized, and poor man’s crop’ into the ‘commercial, trade potential, and high-status crop’ of Nepal.”

He further emphasized, “The inner Tarai and Hilly regions of Nepal have tremendous potential for producing quality millet. It’s like a situation where the ‘iron is already hot,’ and it’s up to Nepal to either shape it properly or watch it cool down, missing a valuable opportunity.”

In a recent initiative, Kushma Municipality in Parbat district has started cultivating millet on 200 Ropanis (101,744 square meters) of fields that had been lying fallow for years. This year, the municipality produced 16 Muris of millet, generating revenue of Rs 80,000 by utilizing the previously unused land. The initiative, part of the Prime Minister’s Employment Program, aims to connect unemployed youth with agricultural employment and maximize the potential of fallow land. The municipality chose this area because it was historically known for millet farming and remains highly fertile, yielding an abundant harvest.

My advice to every municipality is to follow Kushma Municipality’s example and prioritize millet production. Otherwise, we risk ending up with ‘Nepali kodoski’ made from imported Indian millet.

The author is a London-based R&D chef

Celebrating tilauri, ghue, and chaku

A few years ago, I was in New York for an airline catering project. My schedule was packed, and my routine revolved around the comfort of a five-star hotel and occasional dinners in Jackson Heights.

One evening, a humble and soft-spoken kitchen assistant in my team, a Bhutanese Nepali-speaking young man who had never set foot in Nepal, invited me to his house for dinner. I hadn’t realized that day was Maghe Sankranti – the first day of the Nepali month of Magh, a culturally significant day in many South Asian cultures.

Initially, I hesitated. I was accustomed to fine dining, and this was a long drive out of the city. But something about his warmth and enthusiasm made me say yes.

He picked me up later that evening, and we drove over an hour to his place. As we arrived, I noticed the house was buzzing with activity. Four families had gathered, and there was an air of celebration. The dining table was adorned with dishes I had seen growing up but hadn’t truly appreciated: steamed tubers, sesame laddus, ghee (clarified butter), jaggery, and bowls of chamre rice lined the table alongside a dish I had never encountered before – tite Chicken, a slightly bitter preparation unique to their tradition.

It wasn’t until I saw the offerings carefully arranged in a corner that it hit me – it was Maghe Sankranti. I felt shame for not remembering the day and for how far I had moved from my roots. Yet, as I stood there, surrounded by strangers who welcomed me like family, I realized this moment wasn’t about guilt but about rediscovery. Here were Nepali-speaking families, thousands of miles away from Nepal, preserving and celebrating our culture with such reverence.

We shared stories, ate together, and laughed late into the night. That evening, they earned my respect for their dedication to keeping our traditions alive. Their version of chamre (a ceremonial rice dish) was exquisite, and the tite Chicken – a dish I had never tried before – was unforgettable. From that day on, I vowed never to overlook Maghe Sankranti again.

Maghe Sankranti marks the sun’s transition into Capricorn (Makara), symbolizing the end of the darkest, coldest days and the start of longer, warmer ones. This shift, both astronomical and symbolic, is celebrated with rituals, food, and gatherings across Nepal and in Nepali-speaking communities worldwide.

On Maghe Sankranti, families across Nepal enjoy steamed tubers like yam (rato tarul), sweet potatoes (sakar kanda), and potatoes. These humble roots are not only nutritious but also carry cultural significance. In rural areas, tubers were often the only available food during harsh winters. Rich in carbohydrates, fiber, and potassium, they provide the energy and warmth needed to combat the cold.

Tilauri, or sesame seed laddus, paired with ghue (clarified butter) and chaku (jaggery), is a quintessential Maghe Sankranti offering. Sesame seeds are revered in Hindu culture, symbolizing purity, prosperity, and health. In the cold months, their high fat and nutrient content nourish the body, while jaggery provides essential minerals and a natural energy boost. Ghee, with its warming and lubricating properties, complements the combination perfectly.

Together, these foods embody the Nepali philosophy of balancing taste, health, and spiritual significance.

Maghe Sankranti is celebrated differently across Nepal and its neighboring regions. Some communities celebrate it with Khitro or Khichadi, which is made with black gram (Vigna mungo) and rice and tilkut (sesame candy).

In some communities, unique dishes like tite chicken – a bittersweet curry along with burnt chicken feathers ash – are prepared. This dish, though uncommon, reflects the fusion of local ingredients with traditional cooking methods.

Maghe Sankranti foods are not just delicious, they are also aligned with seasonal needs. Winter is a time when the body requires extra calories and nutrients to stay warm and healthy. The festival’s emphasis on tubers, sesame seeds, jaggery, and ghee reflects an ancient understanding of nutrition.

Ayurveda, the traditional system of medicine, highlights these foods as winter staples for balancing vata (the air element) and keeping the body grounded and nourished.

The experience I had in New York that year taught me a profound lesson: traditions aren't confined to geography. They live on in the hearts and kitchens of those who cherish them. For me, Maghe Sankranti is now a day to pause, reflect, and celebrate – not just the food but also the stories, memories, and people that make it meaningful.

So, this Maghe Sankranti, let us steam our tubers, roll our tilauris, and share a meal with family and friends near or far. Because at the heart of it, this festival is about warmth: the warmth of food, community, tradition, and celebrating together.

The author is a UK-based R&D chef

Reviving bhakamilo in Nepali cuisine

When I first tasted fresh sumac at the spice market in Istanbul, the tangy flavor instantly transported me back to my childhood in Nepal. It reminded me of ‘bhakamilo’ (Rhus javanica Miller), a local Nepali berry we used to snack on during childhood after swimming in the Kahu Khola river. To my surprise, bhakamilo and sumac share a familial connection, both belonging to the Rhus genus in the Anacardiaceae family. While sumac (Rhus coriaria) is a staple in Middle Eastern cuisine, bhakamilo remains an underappreciated gem in Nepal. 

Sumac and bhakamilo are shrubs known for their vibrant berries and aromatic foliage. While sumac grows across the Mediterranean, bhakamilo thrives in the foothills of the Himalayas, between 800 and 1200 meters. Both are members of the Anacardiaceae family, which also includes mangoes, pistachios, and cashews. Bhakamilo is commonly found on hill slopes and forested areas of Nepal, flourishing in the temperate climate. Despite its abundance, its culinary potential remains largely untapped.

Bhakamilo holds a nostalgic place in traditional Nepali life. For many of us, its tangy taste evokes memories of carefree childhood days spent exploring forests and indulging in wild edibles. The reddish berries, often consumed fresh, offered a burst of tartness that became synonymous with rural living. However, unlike sumac, which has found its way into spice blends like za’atar and is widely used in Middle Eastern cuisine, Bhakamilo has not been integrated into Nepali culinary practices beyond its role as a wild berry snack.

In Middle Eastern cuisine, sumac is celebrated for its lemony flavor, often used to brighten salads, kebabs, and rice dishes. Bhakamilo could serve a similar purpose in Nepali cuisine. Its tanginess could enhance dishes like gundruk ko achar (fermented leafy green pickle) or kwati (mixed bean soup), adding a refreshing acidity that complements earthy flavors.

Bhakamilo’s versatility extends beyond traditional recipes. It could be used in marinades, dry rubs, or dressings for meats such as lamb or duck, much like it enhances fatty meats in Levantine dishes. Additionally, it could be sprinkled over salads, stirred into yogurt, or even incorporated into rice dishes. Its potential to bridge traditional and modern culinary styles makes it an exciting ingredient for chefs and home cooks alike.

Bhakamilo is rich in antioxidants, particularly tannins and anthocyanins, which contribute to its vibrant color and astringent taste. Traditional medicine in Nepal has long used bhakamilo for digestive ailments, sore throats, and inflammation. Its natural acidity stimulates digestion, making it a valuable addition to pickles and fermented foods. As scientific studies increasingly highlight the health benefits of sumac, including its anti-inflammatory and antimicrobial properties, bhakamilo could gain recognition as a wellness-enhancing ingredient.

As Nepali cuisine evolves, the time is right to reintroduce bhakamilo. Its tangy flavor and cultural significance make it a promising addition to contemporary dishes. Similar to za’atar, a spice mix using ground bhakamilo, herbs, roasted sesame seeds, and salt could create a distinctly Nepali seasoning. This blend could enhance flatbreads, salads, or marinades.

Nepal’s tradition of pickling could benefit from bhakamilo’s acidity. Incorporating it into chutneys and pickles would add a unique tang. Ground bhakamilo could be used as a garnish for dishes like sekuwa (grilled meat), choila (spiced meat salad), or bhuteko bhat (fried rice), providing both flavor and visual appeal.

Its sourness pairs well with creamy textures, making it an ideal addition to yogurt-based dips and sauces. Bhakamilo’s tang could elevate desserts such as rice puddings or fruit salads, offering a creative fusion of flavors.

Reintroducing bhakamilo into Nepali cuisine presents both challenges and opportunities. Its limited culinary awareness requires education for chefs, home cooks, and food enthusiasts. Additionally, harvesting and processing bhakamilo on a commercial scale might be challenging due to its specific habitat. However, the global interest in foraged and indigenous ingredients presents an opportunity for Nepal to position bhakamilo as a niche product with cultural and commercial value.

Local farmers, cooperatives, and entrepreneurs could play a pivotal role in bringing bhakamilo to market. Its potential as a culinary ingredient, combined with its health benefits, makes it an attractive proposition for both domestic and international markets.

Bhakamilo is a symbol of Nepal’s rich biodiversity and culinary heritage. Rediscovering its potential could reconnect the younger generation to their cultural roots through food. As Nepal’s cuisine continues to expand its horizons, embracing bhakamilo could serve as a bridge between tradition and innovation.

By exploring its diverse applications, Nepal can preserve the flavor of bhakamilo for future generations while introducing it to a global audience. This humble berry has the potential to become a staple spice, enriching dishes with its unique taste and connecting people to the vibrant landscapes where it grows.

The author is a UK-based R&D chef