Dhoka – the name is steeped in history, irony, and despite its humble origins – is a pillar of Bengali “Niramish” food. The diamond shaped, crunchy on the outside yet fluffy on the inside fritters of chana dal and “motor” dal in a tomato, ginger and green chilly based gravy inspire sighs of happiness when you dig into it with your fingers. Served alongside some Gobindo-Bhog chaal and some fried pieces of Dhoka, that’s a Bangali Vegetarian meal for ages. We may not name our foods in a way that Rabindranath Tagore would feel proud, but we flavor them in ways that even Michelin stars wouldn’t be able to justify.
A ton of our non-Bengali brethren keep asking why it’s called “Dhoka” – which means deceit, betrayal, fraud, cheating, and similar romantic terms that Arijit Singh makes a career out of singings songs about. The etymology is complex and layered, just like “Dhoka” itself (the preparation and not the deceit). In the mid 19th Century, widows were discriminated against constantly. It wasn’t until Raja Ram Mohun Roy and other social reformers of the time crusaded for them and brought some level of dignity to their lives. In the meanwhile, Bengali widows displayed true resourcefulness and creativity in the face of adversity. Over 80% of today’s Bengali vegetarian preparations originated in that time at the hands of Bengali women who were considered unfit to show their faces in civilization. “Shukto”, “Labra”, “Cheychhra”, “Chorchori” – everything emerged at the same time and were the fruits of some desperate labour.
“Dhoka” as the name suggests stands for deception. The boiled and mashed dals were prepared in a way to mimic the taste of meat. Non-vegetarian food was the only staple people of Bengal knew and couldn’t look past “mangsho” or “maach” for their nutritional requirement. But when “Dhoka” came around, our meat eating friends just couldn’t get enough of it. The taste was fulfilling, the look regal, the texture sophisticated and the nourishment exceeded what a “mangshor jhol” could provide.
Our matriarchs went one step further, and decided not to put any onion or garlic in the gravy either. The “Dalna” is tangy, sweet, spicy and just the right amount of salty to make it a complete “umami” offering. This was achieved without any of the root flavoring. For a cuisine that looks towards “ada” and “roshun” so often, this was an unparalleled achievement.
Through food, Bengal’s widows led their own Suffragette movement. They pioneered the use of vegetables and simple spices, and in no uncertain terms displayed an indomitable spirit that has given rise to some of our cuisine’s most loved preparations. Making Dhoka is hard work. Blending the dals, cooling it down, kneading that doughy consistency, cutting perfect parallelograms, frying them just right, AND then getting down to the gravy. Women don’t shy away from that hard work, yet have the energy to work 2 more jobs, raise a family, strum a Taanpura and sing Rabindra Sangeet flawlessly, make 40 cups of “chaa” in a day, and go out and defend the family from any nefarious element. We’re a matriarchal society, our food adds to it. About this, there’s no “Dhoka”.
What You’ll Need:
For the Dhoka
- 200 g chhola’r dal (split Bengal gram; soaked overnight)
- 6 g salt
- 12 g sugar
- 10 g green chillies
- 120 g total water (for grinding dal)
- 20 g vegetable oil
- 20 g ginger paste
- ½ tsp turmeric
- ¼ tsp hing (asafoetida)
- 20 g roasted peanuts (coarse powdered)
- 1 tbsp chickpea flour
- Vegetable oil (for frying)
For the Dalna (Gravy)
- 80 g mustard oil
- 5 pcs dried red chillies
- 5 pcs bay leaves
- 5 pcs cardamom
- 1 pc cinnamon
- 5 pcs cloves
- 1 tsp cumin seeds
- 300 g potatoes (3-cm cubes)
- 60 g grated coconut (optional)
- 50 g ginger paste
- 8 g cumin powder
- 5 g coriander powder
- 5 g turmeric
- 3 g kashmiri red chilli powder
- ¼ tsp hing (asafoetida)
- 50 g tomato puree
- 6 pcs green chillies (slit)
- 12 g salt
- 30 g sugar
- 400 g hot water
- 15 g ghee
RECIPE:
A. For the Dhoka
- Soak chhola’r dal in water overnight. Strain and grind the dal, coarsely but uniformly, in small batches with salt, sugar, green chillies and water.
- Heat 20 g vegetable oil in a pan. Add ginger paste, and fry that too for 20 seconds. Add cumin powder, turmeric and hing, and fry again until the raw smell of the spices goes away.
- Add ground chhola’r dal and peanut powder. Continue cooking the dal, whilst scraping the bottom of the pan continuously to prevent sticking.
- Once the mixture changes colour and gathers in a dough-like ball, transfer it to a flat, greased surface.
- Shape into a diamond about 2-cm tall. While the dal is still hot, cut this large diamond into 16 equal diamond-shaped dhokas.
- Fry on medium heat in oil until evenly brown.
For the Dalna
- Heat mustard oil until smoking lightly and pale yellow. Temper it with dried red chillies, bay leaves, cloves, cardamom, cinnamon and cumin seeds.
- Add the potato cubes and fry them on medium heat until golden (about 4 minutes).
- Add grated coconut and fry it for 30 seconds until lightly coloured.
- Add ginger paste, cumin powder, coriander powder, turmeric, kashmiri red chilli powder and hing, and fry the spices until their raw smell goes away. You may need to add a splash of water whenever the pan dries out. Also add the salt and sugar, and after cooking these for a minute, tomatoes and slit green chilies.
- Add 400 g hot water to form the curry. Once it comes to a boil, lower the dhoka one by one. Allow everything to bubble on medium heat for 3 to 4 minutes for the gravy to thicken. Don’t reduce the curry too much, as it will thicken as the dhokas absorb some of the liquid.
- Finish with ghee, gorom moshla and two more slit green chillies for flavour.
It’s no surprise that Dhoka’r Dalna is such a flavourful dish. The steps involved are complex, layered, yet so simple and subtle in their execution. Our chefs have perfected each technique after hours of practice and experimentation. The results are so staggering that even Bangaali Maas are proud of them, and that’s no mean feat. Order the Dhoka’r Dalna off our menu today to experience the taste of Bengal!
