It was sometime late October last year.
The Pujas were over, Diwali was round the corner. The perfume of shiuli wafted from the garden. Gorgeous golden sunshine flooded the house. And wisps of citrus floated lazily on a pastel blue sky.
As I logged in to my blog for the day, I was greeted by a message that read – Just discovered your blog as I was searching for ancient Bengali recipes. I am very impressed with what I have read so far and must congratulate you for your efforts. Some of your recipes makes me nostalgic and it took me back to my birthplace Silchar. Keep up your good work.
I was overwhelmed. Touched by the message.
And that was my first interaction with Ganadev Kaku. On a mellow autumn morning.
And once the conversations started, they just refused to end.
Started with food.
And very soon ventured into growing up years.
And common Sylheti roots.
And during one such conversation, Ganadev Kaku casually mentioned about the mulo pur he had prepared the day before.
That instantaneously got me hooked.
Mulo Pur ? I asked. I’ve had Chalkumro Pur, Sheem Pur, even Kakrol Pur. But never Mulo Pur.
Need the recipe please, I requested earnestly.
Ofcourse, Kaku assured.
And the recipe found its way to my inbox within an hour.
And it wasn’t long before weekend lunch featured Kaku’s Mulo Pur.
The only deviation from the original, I took the liberty of adding some freshly grated coconut to the stuffing.
How did it taste ? Well, the smiles around the table and a thumbs-up from S, who is not really a fan of radish, said it all.
Mulo Pur. Roundels of winter radish. A tear-jerking spicy stuffing of poppy-seed and mustard paste. Coriander stems for freshness. Grated coconut to pacify the heat. Dipped in a batter and fried to a sinful golden.