How Lady Canning became ledikeni
The much-loved gulab jamun has many variations. During a recent visit to Kolkata, I had one version — an elongated and slimmer cousin called ledikeni. Legend has it that it was prepared by a halwai in Bengal for Lady Canning to mark her birthday. The words ‘Lady Canning’ soon turned into ‘ledikeni’, which is how the sweet continues to be known.
Some of our most-loved food items come with interesting stories about the origin of their names. Some are mythical, some are true — but all equally appetising. Take the story about the sandwich. The 4th Earl of Sandwich in England loved to gamble. Once, back in the 18th century, he was so engrossed in his game that he didn’t want to break for a meal. So, he asked his staff to get him something wholesome that he could eat with one hand, while he played with the other. The solution was a dish of two slices of bread with meat in it — which later took on the title of the Earl.
Some of these stories have many versions. Tales abound about the origin of the name Eggs Benedict. It is not a favourite dish of mine, for I don’t like soft yolks in my eggs, but is a celebrated dish of poached eggs and ham or bacon on a muffin, topped with hollandaise sauce. One version has it that the dish was created in Delmonico’s Restaurant in New York in the late 19th century. A regular patron — a certain Mrs Benedict — wanted something special for lunch, and the chef came up with a dish that pleased her to no end. It consisting of poached eggs, bacon and hollandaise sauce. Another version states that it was named after a Wall Street stockbroker, Lemuel Benedict, at Waldorf-Astoria in 1894. Benedict wanted something to clear his hangover, and the answer was the dish of eggs subsequently named after him.
I like the story about the Kakori kebab — even though most food scholars scoff at it. The Nawab of Kakori near Lucknow had lost his teeth but not his zest for food. Since he loved meat dishes, he wanted something that wouldn’t be too chewy. His chefs came up with a kebab that literally melted in his mouth. Another version holds that a high-ranking British officer had visited the Nawab, and complained about the hardness of the kebabs he had been served. The Nawab asked his khansama to prepare something that would need no chewing — and the outcome was the airy Kakori kebab.
The nargisi kofta has a simpler story. This dish — consisting of a boiled egg wrapped in minced meat in gravy — gets its name from a flower: nargis or Narcissus, which is yellow and white. I love the story about a namkeen called Congress kadlekai. This mix of masala peanuts got its name in 1969, when the Congress party split into two. The reference is to the peanut which has a line that divides it into two parts.
I have a Marie biscuit with my tea every morning, and never knew that it was named in 1874 after the Grand Duchess of Russia, Maria Alexandrovna, who married the Duke of Edinburgh. If you like your peach Melba, you may want to raise a toast to the Australian opera singer Nellie Melba. The celebrated French chef Auguste Escoffier conjured up this dessert of stewed peaches, drizzled with raspberry sauce and served with vanilla sauce or ice-cream, at the Savoy Hotel in London to celebrate her performance in 1892 or 1893. The Dame lent her name to another dish — the Melba toast, a thinly sliced, crisp and dry toast. Incidentally, March 23 is marked as Melba Toast Day in some parts of the world.
We should have a calendar to mark our special food days, too. Let’s remember Beliram — the creator of a simple dish called mutton Beliram, prepared with curd, ghee and the usual masalas. One version of the story states that Beliram was Maharaja Ranjit Singh’s chef. The Maharaja was so fond of this meat dish that he had it named after the chef. Another version says that Beliram had a shop in Lahore before Partition, and his mutton was so delicious that it would get sold in 30 minutes. So how about a Mutton Beliram Day?
— The writer is a food critic
