Haflong's Thriving Food Culture Tells a Fascinating Story about Small-Town India

The small hill town of Haflong in Assam has its own distinct culinary identity, featuring a mix of tribal cuisine alongside K-pop cultural influences.

Four months ago, I met my friend Barshine Naiding at Tipsy Point, a wine shop in the middle of Haflong, in the North Cachar Hills of Assam, at an elevation of 1,683 ft. And like she always does, she brought me a jar of home-brewed judima, the traditional rice wine of the Dimasas, an indigenous tribe from the region of Dima Hasao, Karbi Anglong, in Dimapur, Nagaland. Judima is traditionally served in a copper bowl, and consumed like tea. With the passage of time, it only becomes more delicious.

Barshine has been my steadfast companion on visits to Haflong market, and conversation eventually turns to how precious spaces like these are — multi-ethnic, multi-linguistic, carrying all the bitter-sweet stories of navigating these in-betweens. In Haflong, there are more than 12 ethnic tribes — Dimasa, Zeme, Biate, Jaintia, Hrangkhol, Hmar, Kuki, Vaiphei, Khelma, Rongmei, Lushai, Karbi among others. Many local folks believe that Haflong Hindi, a pidgin tongue, was born from the need to ease day-to-day transactions among other region’s residents too — traders, employees and civil servants. In the words of artist and politician, Daniel Langthasa, Haflong Hindi is a “mixture of Hindi, English, Urdu, Sufi, Bengali, Assamese, Nepali, Manipuri, Punjabi, Bihari and with few words from different tribes like Zeme, Dimasa, Hmar, Kuki, Biate, Hrangkol, Jaintia, and maybe even more, which I am not aware of.” This is the organic nature of pidgin: it becomes inseparable from identity and speech.

And then there is the produce in the market. Seasonal vegetables, lentils, mushroom, dhekia (edible fern), bamboo shoots, and ginger, are integral to the cuisines of these communities.

Image courtesy Barshine Naiding

Image courtesy Barshine Naiding

Barshine introduces me to Kanak Hagjer, a food enthusiast and blogger who showcases local produce on her cooking channel. She explains the predominance of seasonal seeds, vegetables, and fruits in the traditional cuisines. “The richness of forest vegetation, and gathering of herbs by the tribal women, makes this possible,” she says. “Fermented fish, smoked meat and khari (alkaline-based dishes) are fundamental to Dimasa traditional cuisine. We also have fermented fish pickles, which are popular across communities here. Both the Sylhettis and Nagas relish it. And then there is silkworm — fried and prepared as chutney by the Dimasas.” 

During Kanak’s childhood in Haflong, a wooden chulha was ubiquitous to every backyard. Burning and sun-drying ingredients was a way of life. But with the lack of space, and safety hazards to consider, it is rare to light a fire. Yet, tribes retain many of their distinctive culinary practices. “Dimasas are particular about numbers (odd and even), and sour ingredients. When bamboo shoot is soaked, it is either one day of soaking, or three! Three or more will be turned into khari,” she explains. “So, among the bamboo shoots also, there are rules. The miya wathi, a variety of muli bamboo (Melocanna baccifera) is cooked with little oil, but this variety is never cooked with fermented fish.”

Sabina Langthasa, Assistant Professor, Department of Life Science and Bioinformatics, Assam University Diphu, writes that weaver ants, called kreshma in the Dimasa language, are a delicacy among certain ethnic groups in the district. These are eaten fried or boiled. “Some of the ethnic tribes of the district use weaver ants, both adults and eggs, as local medicine to cure health problems.” Several residents point out a similarity in the flavour profile between these ant eggs and the edible silkworms, eaten outside of Haflong.

Dishes with bamboo shoot, or weaver ant larvae, are consumed within the home. But there are also new culinary developments alongside traditional cooking in Haflong, most evident in the region’s new cafes, small eateries and bars. These changes cannot compare to the scale of larger cities, but they are a clear inflection point, marking a penchant for new culinary techniques, palates, and a growing awareness.

Vishal Langthasa, digital storyteller and YouTuber, says, “Like all towns, Haflong too has its own signature Sino-Indian food. Restaurants are a good signifier of how we are becoming more and more cosmopolitan, and accepting of other food cultures. This is quite appreciable even if the restaurants don’t necessarily serve authentic East Asian food (or food from other cuisines), given the lack of supply chain, and trained talent.”

Vishal’s insights vividly explains why a Korean corn dog, for instance, a savoury street food snack in Korea, became a teen favourite in Haflong. Yes, lockdown regulations gave all businesses a tough time but some bravely endured the losses. Judith Newme, a busy chef/baker at DIY café Haflong, is one such, and her menu features the portable and crispy corn dog. The food on her menu has a little bit of everything — Indian, Chinese and Korean.

“The local youth look for international cuisines like Thai, Korean or Japanese,” she tells us. “I’ve been travelling to Guwahati to procure several ingredients to keep up with demand. However, there are visitors from outside Haflong, who are looking for a taste of local cuisines and delicacies.”

As a child of a Zemi Naga father and Mizo mother herself, Judith also cooks authentic Naga dishes that are a favourite with tourists. “I would love to preserve the rich culture of the Nagas through our food. Tribal cuisines differ from tribe to tribe, even though we use many of the same ingredients. Bur all of these entail an equal amount of risk — success and failure with menu additions are pretty twisted, post-pandemic,” she says.

Home cooking across the region is typically simple and mindful of health, Judith observes. “Nagas love pork with bamboo shoot; or pork boiled with spinach and fresh green vegetables; pork with fresh bamboo shoot and bitter eggplant. The bitterness of eggplant has medicinal value; it prevents the rise of blood pressure when consuming pork fats.”

To have your pick of fresh produce from Haflong market, one has to wake up early. Many ingredients are in high demand, and come in limited stock. Barshine remembers Saturdays as synonymous with sweet potatoes (tahmunglai), when she was a child. “Other days it's harder to hunt them down, as only a few sellers would bring them to the market. On Saturdays, it was simply heaven. We’d make a firewood in the evenings, roast the sweet potatoes, and snack on them after dinner.” 

I remark that the magic in cooking lies in doing it slow, and she laughs in agreement. “That’s where the medicine lies.”

“If newer cooks innovate with onions and coriander on top of chowmein, then older cooks innovate by adding herbs, fermented ingredients, pickles, smoked meats, and rice wine.” From Tipsy Point, a wine shop, we watch the sun set early in the hills. I think of how evolving stories and recipes that are not available at the click of a button, require some affectionate investigation. One has to dig up backyards and personal histories to understand how magic in food can come together and fall apart. Didn’t Roald Dahl say ‘Those who don’t believe in magic, will never find it’?   

Rini Barman is an independent writer and researcher based in Assam, India. She likes to collect moths and tweets @barman_rini.

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