No Leftovers

It’s no secret that Bengali food is cooked with elaborate precision. But did you know that we also rescue a variety of leftovers from the margins of the chopping board and give them a second life? Spinach ends. Vegetable peel. Flowers. Everything is accorded a place on the dining table. And I know no greater defender of these second-class citizens (sometimes third-class citizens) of the animal and plant kingdom than my own mother.

Here, then, are some interesting dishes she manages to cook almost entirely out of a hodgepodge of culinary leftovers.

Leaves, stems and flowers: Taro leaves, pumpkin leaves, radish leaves, ash gourd leaves, bottle gourd leaves, tender shoots of the marigold plant… under my mother’s enterprising and diligent hands, they all morph into new and surprising recipes on the dinner table. Taro leaves are those heart-shaped, bright green leaves that look like elephant’s ears. Apparently, they are most commonly associated with Hawaii where famous meals are named after the taro leaf. 

Leaves aside, even the flowers of vegetables like pumpkin, drumsticks and bakphul make for delightful fritters. But what truly takes the cake, in my opinion, is what I like to call the Taming of the Banana Tree. Like a Masai tribesman who makes the most comprehensive use of every single part of a poached elephant, my mother manages to leverage the entire banana tree. Under her watchful eye, the alert assembly line of her kitchen swallows the banana tree and blissfully issues a wonderful miscellany of items that are edible or simply useful or both. And if you think I’m exaggerating, here’s all that actually gets used: Stem. Pith. Flowers. Leaves. Fruit (not just the ripe ones). See what I mean?

Vegetable odds, ends, and peels: A dice of vegetables along with odds and ends and even peels (of potatoes, squash, gourd, pumpkin, cauliflower or even potol) can all come together to create something interesting. They can be used to make a very characteristic Bengali chhenchki, labra, chorchori, ghonto or bata. Of course the peels make for splendid dishes all by themselves. 

Fish: In our household (as in many Bengali households), almost every part of the fish is eaten except for fins and innards. The head is particularly preferred. Other spare bits of fish are usually used to flavor curries and lentils. A few years ago, when I was recounting this to a friend, her only question was, What do you make with the silvery shiny scales? Well, rest assured it has most certainly crossed my mother’s mind and she will find some use for it sooner or later.  

So what is amusing, even astonishing, to outsiders about Bengali culinary habits can be just another day in the kitchen for us. And I have a feeling this enthusiastic and single-mindedly utilitarian attitude towards culinary scraps is very much in line with the Indian way of doing things. It’s a marvelous combination of thrift and innovation. A sort of culinary jugaad. So there. But more importantly, if there’s ever a nationwide depression and food is rationed out, I know my mother will pull us through. We will all last for about three days on a single fish. Maybe a whole week on a single banana tree. Now you understand my obsessive relationship with food. It runs in the family.