Khichuri is the perfect pairing for rainy days

Born out of time crunch and necessity, the traditional Bengali dish is the ultimate comfort food for gloomy days

My mother usually plans our daily menus, and when she isn't around, my aunt steps in. Usually, I’m the last to know what’s being prepared for lunch or dinner. In fact, most meals I have no idea what we’re having until I’m done setting the table and am sitting down.

But then, on certain glorious mornings, I wake up and, even before I get out of bed, I have a crystal clear forecast of our lunch plans. How do I know? It is the telltale rumble of thunder that turns me into a wise wizard of the daily menu. Not only do I know what’s cooking in our kitchen, but also the go-to item of every kitchen in the neighbourhood – khichuri.

Turns out, we don’t celebrate rain by eating khichuri. In fact, it is more a matter of simple practicality. In the old days, villages didn’t have grocery stores at every corner. Instead, there was a weekly market, which would become the day people went to shop. However, consider the difficulties posed by a sudden bout of rain. Or, the seemingly endless downpours in the monsoon season. Sometimes this left housewives with just as many mouths to feed, but fewer ingredients to do it with. The solution? Cook the rice and lentils together because it required less oil and fewer spices compared to preparing the dishes separately. Thus khichuri was born. Being canny and clever, these housewives also thinly sliced their old, wilting vegetables, battered them to mask the taste, and then deep fried them to create a classic pairing. And so, the tradition of rainy day khichuri was born.

Khichuri is like my culinary comfort blanket. Chatting to Bengali friends in the UK, I would often hear how they all missed home-cooked food like good old rice and curry. I could never chime in. Believe it or not, I was quite happy with my frozen chicken nuggets and weekly Chinese takeaways. But, on cold, rainy English mornings I too would get a sneaking craving for a piping hot plate of bhuna khichuri with a spicy beef curry.

I’ve often wondered why khichuri is our default choice for rainy day comfort food. The soup-like nihari would be more warming. Perhaps the congee-like jau would fit better? Even polau with chicken roast, another of my favourite traditional meals, could have taken its place. So why is it that none of the them truly hold a torch to the siren song of khichuri in rainy weather?

The meat dishes came later as more affluent families elevated the humble khichuri to extravagant levels by adding the rich flavour of quality cuts in delicious, warming sauce. Despite the addition of accoutrements to spice up the meal, the heartwarming essence of khichuri has woven itself deep into our culture and our very souls.

Nowadays, when we can order a wide variety of food from a plethora of cuisines at the tap of our fingers, we should take a moment to appreciate the humble origins of our rainy day indulgence. It’s not just a dish, it’s the taste of tradition going back generations. It is a testament to our history and our resourcefulness, a bond that connects us to the village kitchens of ages past. In fact, it is like a Native American rain dance – an edible ode to the weather gods. But, regardless of the weather’s whims, this wizard will continue to find joy in every mouthful.

This article is part of Stripe, bdnews24.com's special publication focusing on culture and society from a youth perspective.