The food at The Bangala

 

The Bangala is one of the Indian travel world’s most remarkable stories. It was a clubhouse belonging to an old Chettiar family (the MCMM or Meyyappan, Chokolingam, Meyyappan and Meyyappan family), one that had been used for over a century by extended family to meet, sit and play cards or badminton, have a meal. In 1999, the MCMM family, under the guidance of the matriarch Mrs. Meyyappan, decided to convert it into a guest house and then a boutique hotel that has now become iconic. Beginning the project in her mid-60’s, through her work at the Bangala, she and her family have almost single-handedly put Chettinad on the world map over the last two decades, reviving interest in its history, food, architecture, antiques and culture. 

Mr. Pandian has spent his entire adult life cooking at the Bangala

While the hotel is lovely, what The Bangala is famous for is the food. The dish Chicken Chettinad is the reason why most people have even heard of the place but it is one of those unfortunate dishes where no one even knows what it means. Google the recipe and you’ll find multiple versions. It almost feels as though it’s become some sort of a catchall phrase for any sort of South India influenced spicy chicken curry that has zero connection to the region, its food, its produce and its history. 

Getting the shallot, chilli and other spices ready…

Which brings me to the first myth about Chettinad food. That it is a spicy cuisine packed with heat, and that the essential elements are things like chillies, pepper and anything that can set your mouth on fire. 

Thalai (goat’s head) curry 

Yes there are many dishes that do have chilli but the local chilli has none of the heat of the chillies we find in the Deccan or the North East and the cuisine is a far cry from the fiery curries of Kolhapur or Guntur, or the eye watering bhut jolokia potency of a Naga pork curry. If anything what astounded me was the complexity of the the food at the Bangala, the sophistication in the use of spices. This was spicy food, but in its truest sense. Food that uses spice to play with an assortment of flavours, fragrances and even texture, seeking balance between the different elements to create dishes that were refined and complex. I have never seen such an assortment of spices.. star anise, fennel, nutmeg, fenugreek but also dried flower pods and local leaves and flowers, all balanced with a mastery that simply cannot be taught. 

Lentils with congealed goat’s blood

Like many trading communities, the food is truly omnivorous and syncretic, with next to no waste. The meat dishes cover the gamut from rabbit to mutton, from seafood to quail. The crab rasam I had was easily the best rasam I’ve had in years, showing a willingness to take their roots and fuse it with a seafaring way of life. The meat dishes make no apologies for brahmanical norms of propriety, where eating a wonderful goat head curry with soft, chunky hunks of cheek in a rich chilli and coconut gravy was the least of it when it comes to breaking stereotypes about South Indian food. I also had a fascinating dal with congealed goats blood that gave it a sharp iron-y flavour as a well as a satisfying gelatinous mouthfeel. 

1 year aged tamarind soaked in the leftover water from washing rice.. the base of the Mandi 

Stir frying the small onions, ladies finger, shallots, chillies…

And finally…the Mandi! 

But before anyone thinks of it as only a carnivore’s cuisine, you’re swept away by the the sheer breadth and dizzying variety of vegetarian dishes, of which my favourite was the mandi. The gravy was made by infusing one year aged tamarind into water where rice is washed, and which is generally thrown away along with all its nutrients. Here they use it to create a slightly starchy gravy to which they add lightly cooked vegetables (ladies finger the time I had it) and the usual cornucopia of spice to make for a dish unlike any other that I’ve had in any part of India. 

The mutton kuzambhu… the apogee of Chettinad cooking, with a blend of spices from star anise to black stone flower  that defies belief

Which brings me to the other myth I want to debunk. Chettinad food is often described as hearty and rustic, but that’s damning with faint praise and just demonstrates how we often confuse form and substance. The use of ingredients like short grained rice or the water sediment in which rice is washed may lead some to think of this as a simple cuisine but it isn’t. If anything the use of spice to find the perfect balance of flavour and fragrance notes was more reminiscent of Awadhi royal cuisine than anything else, even if the textures were rougher and the use of sourness much more pronounced. I don’t think there can be many cuisines in the world with such a diverse set of ingredients, incorporating both the produce of the region and the trading heritage of its inhabitants. Where you see elements of food consumed across the ancient maritime world, from Arab dhows to Burmese timber merchants and spice traders from the Malay archipelago. Where there is a secular, democratic ethos in the choice of protein and vitamin, where the scarcity of the past is respected in the lack of waste. In its complexity, its historicity, its sustainability, its Multi-sensory approach, its secular ethos, this is one of the world‘s great cuisines. For making the rest of the country (and the world) aware of this extraordinary cuisine, for reviving it and showcasing it, we owe the MSMM family, Mrs. Meyyappan and the dedicated staff of The Bangala  a debt of gratitude.