Fahrenheit Samosa/Shinghara!

When the sweltering heat of Kolkata’s muggy summers finds respite in the relentless showers of the monsoons, some of the vignettes that flit immediately into one’s mind are those of a quintessential Bangali babu wading through the knee-deep water, dhoti rolled to the thighs (!), the grey skies mottled with black crows enjoying the fresh air, the delicious mouth-watering aroma of a rain drizzled Maidan, and of course, the multi-sensuous sight of an evening of casual banter over hot cha(tea…Assam outgoing, Darjeeling incoming!) and shinghara or samosas! However, what we used to gobble readily as a pipinghot evening snack, is arguably a spurious snack today, with the journey from mildly spicy potato and cauliflower filling being supplemented for …well a whole dystopian story of globalised noodles, amchur, and anything and everything that’s a leftover in the fridge!

The shinghara is a Bengali version of what can be considered one of the most ubiquitous snacks all over Asia! While we stuff them with potatoes and cauliflowers, lamb-filled samsas from Kazakhstan are usually baked, Mediterranean sambusas, once again for the carnivores, makes for an excellent salad accompaniment and even closer home Goanese chamucas are deep-fried and filled with spicy beef or pork. No wonder I saw the samosa as an illustration in the dictionary beside ‘variety’! And variety it has been as the original shinghara has dwindled in tradition with only a handful of places actually serving the piping hot delicacies today! While spurious versions of the Bengali snack sell like hot cross buns, Bengalis aren’t enthused.

Among the few places that sell the erstwhile shingara, there is Saraswati Mistanna Bhandar near Purna Cinema. And a walk near the shop actually feels like a walk down old Kolkata! With youngsters playing carrom over bhars of cha, animated debates on the CPM government and heated discussions on the last cricket match that India lost (often with an ode to every Kolkattan’s second cousin…Sourav Ganguly!). While one can get a few shops in North Kolkata, very few places sell the real shingara.         Phulkopir shingara (cauliflower filled samosa) also happen to be a massive hit. And as for the quintessential hard-core carnivore, keema shinghara (samosa filled with a spicy mincemeat filling) is an indulgence that only the partakers of such a pleasure will understand!

Wandering on the streets and lanes of the charmingly old city of Kolkata, one cannot help but notice the seemingly unending queue of roadside samosa-sellers. However, on closer inspection, most of these are spurious versions of what we have been sampling as a grandma’s recipe. Every erstwhile housewife’s age-old recipe for the Bong shingara may just be forgotten with the times. A light mixture of shallow fried potatoes along with a hint of garlicky tang…that is the ideal filling! Not the first among those to rue the lack of availability of these titbits in the market, I feel that what we get in the markets has nothing Bengali about it. It has peanuts, amchur(dried unripened mango powder) and is so spicy that one too many indulgences can lead to a bad tummy day!

So have our tastes really changed THAT much? Is it true that akin to McDonaldisation that the West incurred, we are facing a possible Haldiram-isation?! Mediocre tastes, unhealthy oil…why do we chomp on despite being unsure as to whether we actually like them or not? There is just one answer…cultural change! The Bangaliana, that we so fondly used to protect and nurture, is withering away. Be it in terms of literature, music, and most importantly food. Let’s take an oath to prevent our culture from getting eroded. And with the shingara as our flagship symbol, the battle isn’t very difficult to win! So in the spirit of evening addas, hallmarks of opinionated crowds, and a war-cry of rumbling epicurean tummies, we have a war ahead… the war of the taste buds!