Whoever thought of making a dough, filling it with cooked chana dal and jaggery, rolling it out, cooking it on a tawa, and then eating it piping hot, was a genius.
Because I don’t know any other dish like puranpoli that’s as filling and fulfilling at the same time.
Having lived in Maharashtra for most of my life, this is one dish that I’ve loved since I was a child. The beauty of it is that you can’t each too much of it, but whatever you eat, keeps you happy for a long time, like a festive high.
Puranpoli: A Taste of History
Puranpoli isn’t new to our plates. Mentions of it can be traced back to the 12th-century encyclopaedia Manasollasa, suggesting it once belonged to royal kitchens. Honestly, that makes sense. Puranpoli does have royal feel to it.
Even ancient Marathi texts reference it, which means it hasn’t just survived, it has evolved into a dish that defines Maharashtra. It holds a special place in memory and identity for many like me.
A puranpoli looks like a simple dish, but its preparation is quite an arduous task which involves a lot of steps and time. It’s almost like a ritualistic preparation; I guess that’s why it’s made only on festive occasions.
On a day like Gudi Padwa, in a Maharashtrian home, you can watch the quiet choreography happening in a kitchen just for the preparation of Puranpoli. It’s rarely rushed; it’s made with a lot of care.
Puranpoli: The Making
Chana dal is cooked slowly until it softens. It is strained, and the water is kept aside to make amti. Now that’s sustainability, our grandmothers knew a lot more about it than we will ever do.
A soft dough is kneaded, water is added little by little, and then left to rest.
In a hot pan, the cooked dal meets jaggery. As it melts, it releases a dark, earthy sweetness. Cardamom and nutmeg add warmth to the aroma.
Once cooled, this mixture is mashed into a fine paste.
It’s then stuffed into the dough ball and rolled out like a paratha.
Traditionally, ghee is drizzled over it before you eat. But since I am a vegan, I use oil.
Puranpoli: Savouring every bite
Then comes the moment you’ve been waiting for.
A plate is laid out for you with piping hot puranpoli. You sit cross-legged on the floor. You tear a small piece and put it in your mouth. And for a few seconds time stands still. We live in a world that insists on moving fast, puranpoli makes you slow down, naturally.
The royal taste unveils itself. The sweetness reminds you that today is special and hence you are getting a chance to eat it. You cherish each bite.
If you take a bite of it with katachi amti, which is made with the water strained from the dal, the spice and sweetness comes together beautifully. A balance that feels deliberate yet it’s effortless.
Recipes for puranpoli have quietly changed hands across generations, and the loyal love for it remains even after so many centuries.
Puranpoli: Many kitchens, one dish
This dish can be found beyond Maharashtra with different names. In Karnataka, it becomes holige, in Andhra its bobbatlu, in Kerala it becomes boli.
I have tasted it in Kerala too. But somehow, the OG puranpoli that’s the one that holds a special place in my heart.
Maybe because it’s the tradition I grew up with. Maybe because it’s a humble lentil, sweetened and transformed. Maybe because it stands for celebration.
Or maybe, for a fleeting moment, eating it makes me feel royal.
Your next read: World Poha Day & the Memories it Brings
About me: I’m a vegan writer, a wanderer at heart and someone who loves to cosy up with a book. After nearly two decades in television, I now tell stories that are plant-based, personal and rooted in the life that I’m building along the way. To know more click here.
