Recipe for Hibiscus Chutney from a Matrilineal Kerala Kitchen
In Hawaii, a woman wearing the flower behind her ear signifies her interest in taking on a lover. In Kerala, it is a blatant declaration of madness. But for my grandmother and her sisters, the hibiscus is a sacred heirloom.
Every time my grandmother reunites with her five sisters at a family event, they always seem to have a lot to catch up on: cat pregnancies, false teeth and old memories. Often these old memories are about girlhoods spent together in Mangalore, under the care of their beautiful mother, Tulsi. It is her name that comes up in recent times when the sisters meet again, and this time, they talk about her Hibiscus chutney: a quick fix for when guests arrive without prior notice, a recipe for lazy days when cooking feels like a heavy chore.
The hibiscus flower has been associated with many identities. In Hawaii, a woman wearing the flower behind her ear signifies her interest in taking on a lover. In Kerala, it is a blatant declaration of madness. But for my grandmother and her sisters, the hibiscus is a sacred heirloom to be savoured and passed down from mother to daughter, and sometimes, even daughter-in-law. Everyone flavours it with their own style, of course: for example, my grandmother’s youngest sister uses two days’ yield of flowers, while the eldest has a reputation for making it extra spicy. But I’d like to believe my grandmother makes it just right, in the way Tulsi dodda taught her.
For most of us who have known about this hallowed Hibiscus chutney, its making is nothing short of a ritual. The chutney, obviously, doesn’t magically appear in the kitchen. Even as children, we knew this. Everyone in the family was put to work. My cousins and I were sent out to pick Hibiscus flowers from the garden, braving vicious red ant. If we needed more, we would head to the neighbours’ houses and raid their trees. Around eleven, we would gather in a circle to de-petals the flower, tossing them into a big golden vessel. During this ceremony, someone would have the misfortune of being teased. Someone would cry. Someone would be scolded. And so it went.
Looking back, I’m wistful for a time long gone – a simpler one, when we weren’t too caught up in our busy, lonely lives. When the internet hadn’t yet taken over the world, and the most accessible, entertaining and most joyful thing to do, was tossing Hibiscus at the nearest person. And then to have it with red rice at noon.
MY FAMILY’S HIBISCUS CHUTNEY
Ingredients
20-25 hibiscus flowers
4 shallots, chopped fine
2 green chillies, chopped fine
½ tsp concentrated tamarind juice
¾ tsp salt
Turmeric powder, a pinch
Jaggery powder, a pinch
For seasoning
2 tsp ghee/coconut oil
1 tsp mustard seeds
½ tsp urad dal
2-3 pieces of red chilli
4 curry leaves
Method
Collect the petals of the Hibiscus flower in a bowl.
Place a pan on the stove. Add in half a glass of water and bring to a boil.
Add in the hibiscus petals, shallots, chillies, concentrated tamarind juice, salt, jaggery powder, turmeric powder, and allow to cook for 5-7 minutes.
Now, smash the cooked petals with the back of a spatula until it forms a mushy gravy.
To season, heat a small tadka pan with ghee or coconut oil.
Add in the mustard seeds. When they splutter, add the urad dal, red chilli and curry leaves. Before the dal browns, remove and add to the chutney mix.
Hibiscus chutney pairs well with rice, dosa, idli or roti.
Megha Rao (www.megharao.in) is an author, performance poet, podcaster and workshop facilitator, and has been featured on BBC Radio, RollingStone, Penguin Random House, The Telegraph, Mint Lounge and The Hindu, among others.
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