Photo courtesy Induben Khakhrawala.
Two months ago, I came across a pack of ‘No Minute Masala Noodles’ khakhra for the first time at Sindhi Provision Stores in Colaba. I hadn’t thought I could be surprised by a khakhra ever again, not after encounters with ‘mobile’ khakhra, ‘recharge’ khakhra and dosa khakhra at Welcome Tea & Dry Fruit in Grant Road, one of my favourite snack foods stores in the city, and shops in and around Nepean Sea Road, Matunga and Colaba over the last decade. I’ve tried khakhras in many weird and wonderful flavours: pani puri, ‘sezwan’, pav bhaji, channa masala, cheese and chaat to name a few. No Minute, it turns out, tastes of the Maggi tastemaker. The shop also has versions of the snack in Kutchi dabeli, chocolate and milky ‘vanilla-G’ flavours.
This popular Jain and Gujarati farsan has been on my mind for a while. Just a week before the noodle khakhra discovery, I’d received a dabba full of khakhras from my sister-in-law from the Gujarati side of my family. She’d asked a khakhra maharaj, whose skill has been preferred by our kin for years, to make stacks of the crisp roasted snacks in her kitchen, so that she could stock up as well as distribute them among us. We’d asked for sada, mari (pepper), nachni and khichdi (a slightly sweet khakhra made from khichdi), and had them with hummus, peanut butter, coconut oil and podi, ghee and methi seed-based sambhaar (not to be confused with the sambhar had with dosa), and dahi chutney (not all at the same time). The good thing about getting a khakhra maharaj is that you have control over the quality of ingredients. Another friend of mine had spoken to me about a travelling saleslady, a khakhrawali as she called herself, supplying homemade khakhras to homes in Cuffe Parade. As it turns out, there are many such khakhrawalis in the city – friends in Malabar Hill, Khar and Kandivali said they have their favourites.
Even so, sampling the No-minute Masala Noodles khakhra was what made me think about how far this snack of dry-roasted wheat roti has come. With Navratri rolling around, I thought the time is right to investigate how the khakhra was invented and how it has evolved. I had some theories about its origin. The one that seemed most plausible was this: maybe someone left a roti on a warm tava too long and it got crisped into a tasty accident. I asked around, mainly prodding my Gujarati and Jain friends, but found no confirmation of my hypothesis. Then I was introduced to 82-year-old Pushpa Mehta, the grandmother of Pankil Shah, the co-owner of Woodside Inn and The Pantry. She gave me a sound reason for the invention of the khakhra. “It was invented by Jains, many many years ago,” she said. “We don’t eat baasi (stale) food. Moisture causes food to spoil, so leftover rotis would be dry roasted under pressure on a tava until they lost all their moisture and could be kept for the next day and still stayed fresh [and unspoiled].” The khakhra offered a way to adhere to religious beliefs and to prevent food wastage at the same time. It also helped that the cracker-like bread is vastly versatile. It tasted as great as a roti substitute with meals, as it did dipped in sweet milky tea or yogurt for breakfast, or for an afternoon snack.
How did this food idea born of frugality and common sense evolve into such a massively popular snack, exported by companies such as Haldiram’s all over the world? Bina Gandhi, one of the trustees of Shree Atmavallabh Swavlamban Mahila Kendra, an NGO in Nalasopara that teaches and employs women in distress to make khakhras, among other things, said, “Jowar and bajra khakhras simply came about because these are the grains we make our rotis from in winter. For travel, khakhra is very [portable] and long lasting. It’s mainly a Gujarati snack, so its popularity travelled with Gujaratis around the world.”
Atmavallabh, as it is commonly known, makes only long-standing Gujarati varieties with various lentils, grains and spices: sada (plain), methi, math (moth bean), chorafali (besan, udad daal, red chilli), bajra and kothmir, mugdi (made with khichdi) and mangroli (with a specific mix of spices). The NGO employs 90 women who cumulatively make about 10,000 khakhras a day “aaram se” by hand, Gandhi said. Handmade traditional khakhras are next-level rotis; they’re rolled out, crisped and roasted under pressure on a tawa. At Atmavallabh, the most skilled among the women can handle a stack of 30 at a time, rotating the crisps from top to bottom. When a woman is done with her production quota for the day, each khakhra she has made is examined, as part of quality control procedures. Anything that is even slightly over-browned or has bubbles is rejected and she is asked to make up for the shortfall. A thinner khakhra indicates greater skill, though thickness is a matter of taste. To tell a quality khakhra, Gandhi recommends we look at its appearance first. If its darker than a golden biscuit brown, it won’t taste very good. Bubbles mean that it contains maida or more oil than necessary. The exception is the mangroli khakhra, which always has bubbles because it needs oil to be cooked well.
Gandhi says newer flavours, such as pani puri and sandwich methi, available in the last decade were invented in order to persuade children to eat what is considered by families to be a nutritious, wholegrain, high-fibre, healthy snack. A khakhra is easier to flavour than a chapati because it works like potato wafers; it’s a crunchy anytime snack. To understand its recent mutations, I spoke to Ashish Halwawala, co-owner of Induben Khakhrawala, a 61-year-old, Ahmedabad-based company that offers “Manchuria dosa” khakhra or “Cudbury khakhra” among scores of other equally novel varieties. (The founder’s story inspired a 2010 TV series Krishnaben Khakhrawala and prompted Prime Minister Modi to praise her at FICCI). The company produces over 21,000 khakhras a day.
“In the beginning there was only sada, masala, methi and diet,” says Halwawala. “Then people wanted spice so we added mari (pepper) and jiru (cumin). Then they wanted some fresh spices and vegetables, so we added adu (ginger), lasan (garlic), tomato, onion and mixed vegetables. People started asking for Chinese flavours, so we added the masalas that go into noodles, etc. Then for fasting days, people asked for farali (made with foods one can eat during fasts) varieties. Kids like sweets and chocolates, so we made Cudbury.” The mini khakhra is designed to fit in tiffin boxes. The mobile khakhra, about the width and height of an average smartphone is perfect in lunch boxes and in NRIs suitcases. Unlike Atmavallabh and freelance khakhra makers, larger manufacturers like Induben and Rajkot-based Maniarr’s (which manufactures the flavours I found at Sindhi Provision Stores) use machines along an assembly line to make the crisps.
Gujarati homes also use khakhra as a base for other snacks. Tarla Dalal has a recipe for khakhra chiwda. It’s been employed as a pizza crust or as the main carb in a bhel. At our place, when we’re craving a Mumbai sandwich but don’t feel like eating processed bread, we replace it with homemade khakhra. The lot of Mumbai’s new modern Indian restaurants have been experimenting with the crisp as well. Khakhra nachos are available at The Spare Kitchen in Juhu and at Chai Pe Charcha branches in Lower Parel, Worli and Fort where they are called Firangi Khakhra. In the Chocolate Thali at DesiKlub in Nariman Point, chocolate khakhra features alongside chocolate balls and chocolate soup.
Halwawala thinks there’s no end to what you can do with khakhra. In the next couple of years, he predicts we will have layered khakhras, with masalas and stuffings sandwiched inside.
A recent Economic Times story suggested khakhra could become a national snack. In it, the managing director of Maniarr’s, Sanjay Maniar says he wants to make the snack as ubiquitous as Parle G. On the company’s website, and in the story, Maniarr’s claims to be the world’s largest manufacturer of khakhras. The company’s turnover for 2015-2016 was rupees 25 crore. They make seven lakh khakhras every day. The khakhra hasn’t been limited to any community or cuisine in years, so his is not a far-fetched idea. When Prime Minister Narendra Modi took office three years ago, he joked that khakhras will be the choice of snack in the PMO. About a year and a half ago, the government issued instructions to ministries requesting them to have “certain healthy, light and nutritious snacks” in canteens they operate. Khakhra was on the list.