In Kolkata, opposite Jorasanko Rajbati (not to be confused with Jorasanko Rajbari), there is roughly a century-year-old dudh pothi named ‘Jorasanko Dudh Babosaye Samity’. It boasts wholesale milk sellers from across Bengal who supply milk to some of the biggest confectionaries in the city.
During one of the events of DAG Kolkata’s third edition of ‘City as a Museum’, which traced Bengal’s rich tradition of integrating art into everyday life, the sellers proudly insisted that the place is the second-largest milk market in India.
Formerly known as Delhi Art Gallery, DAG's art and cultural festival, organised at various sites in the city, was launched in 2021 in Kolkata. The initiative hopes to promote modern and pre-modern art, using the company's vast collection of Indian art.
The event, ‘Sandesh-er Shandhane’ (In search of Sandesh), follows the trail of milk to sandesh, the famous Bengali sweet, in a 500-metre stretch in the bustling streets of Chitpur, Kolkata. From carrying the milk in containers made of galvanised iron to the varied moulds in which the sweets are shaped – the arguably short walk covered the diverse history of the sandesh-making process, supposedly introduced by the Portuguese in Bengal.
Unpacking the nexus of beliefs and ideas involving Bengal’s sweetmeat culture is no small feat, evidenced when questions like ‘Who makes Rasgulla better – Bengal or Orissa?’ – become issues of national importance. But I digress.
Before diving headfast into the rich history of making sandesh, it’s essential to note that the name of the sweet has been around since the Middle Ages in Bengal and it could roughly translate to ‘good news.’
Sandesh is made with channa after curdling milk and extracting the whey – later kneaded to get the desired consistency. However, it’s rarely emphasised that the sweetmeats are varied in form and composition. From jol bhora to pran hara, there is an array of sweets to choose from – all falling under the umbrella of sandesh. All distinctly different – not in kind but in degree.
And although the etymology of most of these unique names might escape us completely, its artful craftsmanship should ideally be revered. During the walk, we did just that, amidst the crumbling Raj-era apartment blocks where a sea of busy passersby march swiftly across the littered roads. Ahead of the dudh pothi, a row of shops design intricate wooden and metal moulds – chhanch – enabling the confectioners to craft the sandesh in varied ways.
From flower motifs to fruit patterns – the designs are crafted by carving wood with an elaborate set of blades and tools. Mango, fish, rose, and custard apple shaped moulds are plentiful in the shops.
Ahead of the shops, in one of the narrow lanes, you’ll find yourself hopping across potholes, accidentally bumping into a pedestrian or two while realizing that the lane is replete with wholesale shops selling khoya (reduced milk), dry fruits, and paper wrappers. The shops export their goods to Assam and Bihar and import them from Birbhum and other districts in West Bengal. All accompaniments are a stone’s throw away from the dudh pothi.
But the true show-stopper would be hidden in one of the many warren lanes of the area. Not pleasing to the eye, the sweetshops in Natun Bazar would be as far away from the sanitised confectionaries that the city-dweller is used to. Yet one bite of Nandalal Dutta’s delectable pranhara, a channa-based sandesh made with rose water and shaped into bite-sized pillowy balls, will transport you to an otherworldly place.
Jol bhora, which is also a crowd favourite, filled with gur (jaggery), shaped with a two-part mould, is unique to the history of ‘sandesh’ found in all of the famous confectionaries in the narrow strip. And despite having barely any distance between the shops, all three of the sweet shops claim to make the best jol bhora. In their defense, comparisons aside, they do.
Makhanlal’s jol bhora is soft in its texture, while Nalin’s is stiff in its consistency. So despite the age-old question of which is better, it really depends on one’s taste.
In the end, from chocolate to dilkhush sandesh, (the latter is a square shaped kesar sweetmeat) the three sweet shops abound in so many options that it will make you woozy. But if you can brave your indecisions as to what to try and take home in our everyday crusade to bring ‘good news’ you are in for a joyride and your sweet tooth will thank you.
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