Pahile, Deep-Fried Bread From the Mahar Community that is on the Verge of Disappearing

Pahile, ranya roti’s deep-fried relative, is labour-intensive and requires immense skill. Passed down through oral instruction, there is little done to preserve this technique from disappearing in a few generations.

Mahar kitchens hold centuries of heirloom recipes that have been passed down over generations. The once-Hindu community that converted to Buddhism in the year 1956 in Nagpur, following the call of Dr. B.R Ambedkar, still holds their traditional recipes close to heart. Not many dishes from the community have made their make their way into formal recipe books; most have been passed down through oral instruction and simple observation, while others are at risk of fading away with time.

A Golden, Deep-Fried Bread of the Mahars

One such dish that hasn’t made its way into a recipe book, or even the internet — a source where, otherwise, the world is available at the click of a button — is pahile (pronounced pah-hee-le). With taste and texture resembling a love child between wheat puri and bhatura, this flatbread is thick and chewy along the edges, with a thin, crisp centre. Pahile can best be described as a sister bread to the popular ranya roti of Nagpur, and is commonly believed to have emerged the same time the ranya roti did, around the 13th century. But unlike its counterpart, there are few mentions of it in cookbooks or historic writings.

The three main ingredients that are used to make pahile are lokwan wheat flour — a sweeter, more gelatinous quality of wheat — water and salt. The dough is prepared in much the same way as it is for ranya roti, wherein, in a brass paraat or a platter with high sides, these three ingredients are mixed together until the dough is soft and slimy. The difference between the dough of the two flatbreads is the consistency, as pahile’s dough requires a little more water. It is then lifted and slammed into the paraat continually, until gelatinous bubbles begin to appear. Then, scooped up in the palm, it draped over the forearm and gently laid into hot, bubbling oil.

The translucent, paper-thin dough forms bubbles and slight tears, while taking on shades of a golden-brown hue. It is then flipped and fried on the other side for a few seconds, and then stacked in a pile and sold for ₹300/paili (900g). In the old days, this dish was taught to women in their marital homes, as they kept a keen watch on their mother-in-law’s cooking, the only real training they were offered. Today, it is prepared and sold by local Mahar women, who have learnt the skill by observing and practicing over the years. These women make pahile in their home kitchens and sell from there, or on special request, go into people’s homes to prepare their orders.

The Technique of Making Pahile

 The secret to making pahile lies in the skill of deep-frying. The dough, a slimy, glutinous and semi-wet consistency, amplifies the dangers of spurting oil and causing burns. Mastering the skill of gently laying down the dough onto the surface of hot, bubbling oil is key in making pahile. The trick lies in the movement of the wrist and arm, wherein the arm is placed above the frying vessel, turned downwards, with the wrist slightly rotated towards the vessel, laying the dough onto the surface of the oil, making sure it doesn’t stick to the arm.

“One way to learn is to continually practice. Before you try frying the dough in hot oil, practice putting it on the paraat itself. If you are dedicated enough, it is possible to learn within a few days. Otherwise, it can take up to months or even more,” says Shobha Chahande, a local ranya roti and pahile maker. “Not every individual who makes ranya roti knows how to make pahile. I’ve been making it for over three decades now, and the switch from making a roti on a clay pot to deep frying a batter of this consistency is what requires immense skill,” she emphasises.

Pahile is eaten with either mutton curry, rice or wheat flour kheer, or even sweet mango pulp. It also has a natural sweetness to it that comes from the flour. It is traditionally made during the festival of Nag Panchami, of serpent gods, that is observed by Hindus, Jains, and Buddhists throughout the country. In stark contrast to traditional beliefs surrounding Nag Panchami, which endorse skipping fried and salty food, pahile is made in Mahar households, within select families with particular surnames like ‘Chahande’ and ‘Shevde.’

Traditions Around Making Pahile

The households that prepare pahile on this day, do not prepare any other flatbread, believing that on this day, an iron pan should not be kept on a lit stove. The beliefs and superstitions around this dish extend beyond the festival of Nag Panchami. A common superstition that surrounds this dish is that making it in front of too many people can spoil it. The evil eye and its effects are said to affect how the flatbread turns out, and to safeguard from this, pahile is usually made away from crowds and at times in isolated rooms.

The demanding nature of this dish has led younger generation to lose interest in learning how to make it. Education and service jobs take priority, leading them to distance themselves from certain native dishes such as this. “Pahile is not made in homes anymore because of how time consuming and laborious it is. People are more health conscious these days, and since it is deep-fried, it doesn’t appeal to the new generation as much. In the past twenty years that I’ve been doing this, I have seen that while ranya roti has gained immense popularity, pahile is not as appreciated anymore,” says Sharda Shevde, a local ranya roti and pahile maker. “We might be the last generation that knows how to make it and continues making pahile. Even though we’ve taught our children and they like to eat it, they are not as keen to make it. In a generation or two, it might just cease to exist.” she says.

Shobha Chahande’s Recipe for Pahile

Ingredients
900g lokwan flour
1l water
1 tbsp salt
1l vegetable oil (for frying)

Method:
In a large bowl, mix together all the ingredients and knead the dough for around 20 minutes or until the texture is slimy. Make sure to periodically dip your hands in water while you knead.

When the dough becomes spreadable, start lifting and slamming the dough with both your hands while folding the dough into itself after each slam. Continue this process until gelatinous bubbles appear.

Scoop a little portion of the dough onto your palm and spread it onto your forearm to check the consistency. Once spread, the dough should be translucent and able to roughly hold onto its shape.

Once you’ve achieved the desired consistency, heat up the oil in a kadhai at high heat.

Apply some oil onto your palm and forearm. Scoop up a palm sized portion of the dough and spread it onto your palm and forearm.

Gently turn your forearm and wrist downward to let the dough slide onto the surface of the oil.

Fry it for around 5-6 seconds, flip the dough and fry for the same amount of time or until it turns light golden brown.

Enjoy it with mutton curry, kheer or mango pulp.

Nishita Chandra is a Mumbai-based food writer who likes to explore society, cultures and people through cuisine.

ALSO ON THE GOYA JOURNAL