JHARKHAND IN A SIP

IN VAST URBAN SPRAWLS where life pulsates frenetically, we often surrender to the convenience of pre-packaged sustenance.

- Sadaf Hussain

Bottled and boxed consumables populate endless supermarket aisles, a stark contrast to the cherished rituals of small-town existence where every sip and morsel is steeped in local tradition.

On my recent trip to Ranchi, I embraced Jharkhand's undulating landscapes and culinary riches. Under the scorching sun of a fierce Indian summer with dry leaves dancing in a hot breeze, the city offered a refreshingly unique tableau of indigenous beverages.

Exploring the city's heart, just across Church Complex—a popular local haunt—I stumbled upon a cart bursting with the vibrant green of raw mangoes. The vendor was selling Aam Jhora, a tangy and sweet mango sherbet made with mangoes charred on an open flame or baked in a traditional clay oven.

A hint of smokiness was balanced with spices like roasted cumin, chilli, and black salt. This beloved drink quenched my thirst and served as a local remedy for heat stroke. It embodied the essence of Jharkhand's culinary ethos: irresistible simplicity.

A few steps further I encountered a wooden cart painted in shades of the earth and blaring a Nagpuri song. Adorned with yellow packets of sattu the board read in Hindi: "Dinesh Sattu Sharbat." Here, sattu—roasted Bengal gram flour revered as the "poor man's protein"—transformed into a cooling tonic.