Among the many ingredients introduced by the Portuguese upon their arrival in India in the 15th century, vinegar was a prime influencer of Kerala cooking, writes Tanya Abraham in ‘Eating With History’, a book tracing the influence of ancient trade and colonisation on the cuisines of Kerala.
The proximity of the state of Kerala to the sea and its plethora of natural resources—especially the fragrant spices which were cultivated in abundance—attracted inhabitants of foreign soils and led to the initiation of overseas trade, along what was later known as the Spice Route. Eating With History: Ancient Trade-Influenced Cuisines of Kerala provides a rich cultural account of foreign food cultures in Kerala, tracing how new elements adapted to local food traditions, evolving as a parallel line of foods and creating novel textures, flavours, and tastes.
Read a short excerpt from a section titled ‘Christianity and Catholicism—Arrival of the Portuguese’.
The enormous demand for spices, especially black pepper, brought a train of conquerors to Kerala. Like the Portuguese, for example, who came to Kerala in the 15th century and brought with them potatoes, chillies, tomato, cashew nut, guava, papaya and pineapple (they introduced 300 plants in India). And in Kerala, they improved the cultivation of spices like ginger, pepper, cardamom and cinnamon, which had great demand in Europe.
Explorers of great vision, the Portuguese were widely connected the world over—from Brazil to Malacca in Malaysia, so it was only obvious that they brought numerous products and recipes into India from various countries they conquered. Fruit like custard apple, which is often mistaken to have been of Indian origin, was brought by the Portuguese from South America. The citrus fruit mosambi of the orange family, was brought from Mozambique, and thus, the name. The fruit was greatly revered by Portuguese seafarers on learning that eating it cured dying sailors of a strange disease. Its high content of vitamin C protected them against scurvy, an illness that they encountered on voyages, for which no cure was found but from the fruit of the trees found in Mozambique.
It must also be understood that the Portuguese deeply integrated with the locals in Kerala, although their direct influence can be witnessed very minimally today in comparison to Goa (largely owing to the recentness of their presence in Goa and the European powers who arrived in Kerala later). The Anglo-Indian community in Fort Cochin and Thangassery in Quilon (Kollam), for example, still preserve details of their presence in recipes passed through the generations.
Records with the Catholic Church in Kerala clearly state that the Portuguese married natives, ‘establishing a specific community that looked and spoke differently.’ Dr Sergio Mascaren in his work titled Christians and Cochin: The Religious Factor in the Portuguese Establishment of Cochin, explains of a policy that was introduced in 1510 AD, encouraging alliances between Portuguese men and native women.
Mix of cultures meant a mix of cuisines as well, where local spices blend with flavours from Portugal. Like, pigadosi (a sweetened porridge of boiled plantains and coconut milk) or the famous vindhaloo (vindaloo), which is a native derivative of pork preserve the Portuguese used to cook in red wine, vinegar and garlic. Very often Portuguese recipes were combined with locally available ingredients like coconut, for example, which resulted in a whole new range of dishes that Kerala, at the time, was unaccustomed to.
Of the many food ingredients introduced by the Portuguese, it is vinegar, which was a prime influencer of Kerala cuisine. Although India was producing vinegar prior to Portuguese arrival, it was they who introduced it in cooking. The Portuguese used vinegar extensively in their food; especially to preserve salted meats with paprika and garlic which were stored in large barrels during their voyages in ships to lands afar. This proved to be a quick savouring dish when fried in oil, close to the meat pickle famously relished in Kerala today.
Of the many food ingredients introduced by the Portuguese, it is vinegar, which was a prime influencer of Kerala cuisine. Although India was producing vinegar prior to Portuguese arrival, it was they who introduced it in cooking.
The red chilli peppers are yet another introduction, which changed cooking greatly. Fish and meat curries took upon a whole new flavour with red chilli peppers used dry or fresh, whole or ground. Also, importantly, they brought yeast into the country and provided locals with leavened bread, previously unknown in Kerala. Since ovens were not used at the time, the Portuguese, to make breads, steamed or roasted flattened rice dough in earthen vessels. Thus, emerged a version of the original bolo eaten in Portugal even today (which is also called bolo in Kerala, a Portuguese bread still made in homes of regions of Portuguese influence, of rice flour and coconut). However, their love for freshly baked cakes and bread lured them to create native firewood ovens known as the borma. Streets in Fort Cochin had numerous bakeries, where bread was baked daily. Some of the recipes continue to this day, providing a special, homemade feel to these breads.
Exquisite Chinese porcelain came to Kerala on ships that sailed through the spice route. Also utensils like the Chinese wok called cheenachati and Chinese urns that were filled with honey and shipped to the Kerala coast, to be refilled with pepper and other spices in return. So much that these urns (owing to the numbers in which they arrived in Kerala) can be found all over the land even to this day, which are popularly used to preserve salted raw mangoes, locally referred to as upumanga.
Read our interview with the book’s author, Tanya Abraham.
In your foreword, you write with admiration about your grandmother’s extraordinary cooking skills—“She had an uncanny knack of producing flavours even before the pot was on the fire.” In your own home and kitchen, is there any aspect of her cooking—whether a skill, dish, or philosophy—that you have tried to preserve or recreate?
Absolutely. I learnt from my grandmother that it’s about being artistic, to mix and marry based on one’s imagination of what tastes may evolve. I usually check what ingredients are available in the kitchen, and play with them. Of course, some basics are always in store. She had also shown me how one dish can be transformed into another just by tweaking ingredients.
As for traditional recipes, some are staples at festivals and feasts. We can’t do without a Fort Kochi pork vindaloo.
In the course of writing your book, you would have encountered so many lesser known histories and figures. Are there any discoveries that took you completely by surprise, despite being someone who has followed Kerala history?
It was interesting to unearth how community and family traditions had a large role to play in the ways food tasted, or was even cooked. It was interesting to note that religion played a part, ingredients were added or omitted based on the occasion—a celebration or mourning, for example. Since the book looks at foreign-influenced cuisines from the spice trade in Kerala, one can only imagine the slow process and influences which shaped these cuisines. If one peels the many layers, each reveals a story, a reason.
As for figures, it was the women who carried recipes that were passed on from one generation to another. The book does not speak about a great chef, but the gamut of influences and customs that were taken into consideration and made historic by women; these traditions were often never omitted in order to preserve beliefs and revere worship. So it’s like passing on recipes in great detail, with specificities pertaining to Kerala alone.
Tell us about the one recipe that was relatively challenging to document, and what it took you to include it in the book.
I would say there were none that were challenging. What was not easy was to find recipes which were “unadulterated”, which were as true to a community as it could get. That takes time, as one sieves through the ingredients and gauges a recipe’s authenticity. The recipes were shared with me, and due credit has been given to each of the women who did. I believe for them to open their recipe books and share heirloom flavours may not have been that easy.
You write about how Kerala’s cuisine changed and evolved with the arrival of new cultures, foreign ingredients, and “the adaptation of local food to favour new palates.” While it’s evident that this has added so much richness and diversity to the state’s food heritage, in your view, what was important for Malayalis to preserve in the face of colonisation?
We are very rooted in our culture. There is a foundation which is always there, no matter what the influence. This comes from the land—what it grows, who we were across centuries. These cannot really be tampered with. Influences seep into these and recipes evolve from there. Besides, it isn’t just colonisation but also what plied on ships to Kerala shores. So some influences are subtler than others, and some recipes too.
It’s fascinating to trace back and reflect on ingredients, utensils, and cooking techniques that were brought in through foreign trade, or influenced by it. And yet, we’ve made so much of these our own now (like the cheenachati). Could you tell us about one such kitchen staple that never ceases to amaze you?
“Cheenachatti” came from Chinese influence, via the ships that docked at Kerala’s ports. “Cheena” refers to China and “Chatti” refers to pot. We use a utensil shaped like a wok for traditional Kerala preparations, so it’s the technique which was adapted, not Chinese food—interesting, isn’t it?
Utensils came to be based on need and practicality. Sometimes, the other way around—when a technique was learnt, new recipes evolved. Take the puttu kutti (traditional steamer), for example. It is said that the Portuguese introduced steaming as a technique into Kerala cooking, and they needed to have a staple made of rice on their journeys. The jars which brought honey from China via ships were then used to pickle foods in a Kerala kitchen, a practice we still follow. Distilling was another technique—chorka, or vinegar, was introduced in cooking by the Portuguese, so also the borma, what we know as the oven today. What we may use today have evolved from these. It is fascinating.
In the book’s preface, you write: “This book is in honour of the creativity and work of the many women in kitchens across Kerala, for cherishing the recipes passed down generations and bringing heart to homes.” In the context of cooking, have there been any significant changes in gender roles in Kerala, and the expectations that accompany it (given that traditionally, women haven’t always had a choice as well, to cook, or not to)?
That’s an interesting question. At the Kochi-Muziris Biennale in 2023, one of the projects I conceptualised and curated involved a series of films shot in the kitchens of women questioning the position that women hold in society in relation to their kitchens. It is a position from lack of choice due to tradition, but interestingly, women made these into their domains and allowed their best to evolve. It is undeniable that women and kitchens are always associated [with each other], and personally, I don’t think there has been much change there. That’s why the series of films on what kitchens mean to women; the project was titled Who Put Out the Fire? and was part of a larger one called A Place at the Table.
It brought forth stories that queried gender positioning and patriarchy. A woman in one of the films says, “If these (spice) boxes could speak, they would tell you what I feel.”
This is an excerpt from ‘Eating With History: Ancient Trade-Influenced Cuisines of Kerala’ published in 2020 (Niyogi Books). Excerpted with permission from the author and publisher.
Try the recipe for Chemeen Pada and Ariputtu from the book.
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