What ties the Parsi patrani macchi to the Bengali paturi?
The Parsi Patrani Macchi is a fish fillet, usually pomfret, sometimes cooked whole, coated in a marinade of grated coconut, a dash of green chili, coriander leaves, and a squeeze of lime. This is then wrapped in a banana leaf and steamed, served directly in the banana leaf parcel. The fish is tender inside and also absorbs the flavour and aroma of the leaf.
The Bengali Fish Paturi is similar, but uses fillets of betki, hilsa, prawns, or, in more modern variations to meet the demands of non-pescatarians and vegetarians, boneless chicken or homemade cottage cheese. This is marinated in ground mustard, sometimes with a little coconut, mustard oil, and chili, and then wrapped in a banana leaf and steamed until cooked. Part of the joy of eating both dishes is unwrapping the banana leaf parcel to reveal the succulent fish, prawn or chana/paneer, which has absorbed the marinade and the aroma of the banana leaf, and to mix this with steamed rice.
So how is it that the Parsis and the Bengalis, who have no apparent connection, developed such similar preparations? Some claim that the Bengali Paturi originated in Dhaka, but there’s no written proof, and this still doesn’t explain the striking similarity between the two dishes. My guess––a guess because my search for historical explanations yielded no result––is that both communities hail from Bengal, which was also home to the Armenian settlers. Perhaps the influence comes from the Armenian dolma.
Of course, many cultures and cuisines use leaves to wrap ingredients. Thai and Caribbean cuisines use banana leaves, and in Southeast Asia, fish is steamed in plantain leaves with garlic, pepper, and salt. In Mexico, several dishes are prepared in banana leaves, as is common in many tropical regions where banana trees thrive. Even in coastal Maharashtra, the Kotte Kadubu — a type of idli — is prepared wrapped in jackfruit leaves, which impart their aroma to the soft, fragrant dish.
Parsi cuisine came to India when Zoroastrians, fleeing Persia to escape religious persecution, arrived in coastal Gujarat. They assimilated with the local culture and brought their customs and flavours along. Over time, Parsis adopted Gujarati as their language and integrated deeply into Indian society. Kolkata, for example, has a large Parsi community that has lived there for centuries, much like its significant Armenian population.
The Armenians, escaping Turkish persecution, migrated to India in the 16th century and settled in what was then the prosperous city of Calcutta. They were known for importing expensive Venetian glassware, amber, wool, swords and guns, in exchange of spices and precious gems from India. Many prominent realtors in the country were Armenians, and under Armenian entrepreneur Arathoon Stephen, the Grand Hotel of Calcutta—now owned by the Oberoi Group—earned the title “The Grand Dame of Chowringhee.”
The Armenians are also known for their dish dolma — a combination of steamed white rice, dill, and mint wrapped in vine leaves, served warm or at room temperature. And this is where I feel there might be a tenuous connection between the Patrani, the Paturi and the Armenian Dolma.
The Armenian dolma is made of minced meat and bulgur (cracked wheat), but is wrapped in vine leaves and cooked in meat stock and often served with a garlic-laced yoghurt sauce. In Kolkata, most Armenian homes would have grapevines grown, primarily for their leaves used in cooking. The origins of dolma can be traced back to the Ottoman Empire, where Ottoman-Turks stuffed vegetables with meat, a tradition that can be found in pre-Ottoman Arabic cookbooks. The term dolma comes from the Turkish word dolmark, meaning “to be stuffed.” And in Bengal, we prepare our version of the dolmark which is pointed gourd, or parwal or potol, stuffed with prawn, fish or cottage cheese.
The paturi or patrani seems to have more to do with the Greek dolmathe in which vine leaves were stuffed with meat, and has been traced back to when Alexander the Great besieged Thebes. These vine leaves or grape leaves were wrapped around leftover meat, or minced lamb which was spiced with herbs like mint, parsley, and pine nuts, and cooked.
So, could the Patrani be a result of Armenian influence on the Parsis who settled in East Bengal? Or did it impact Bengali cuisine as well? Or could it be that the abundance of banana leaves, vine leaves, and even pumpkin leaves in the region sparked the creative culinary ideas of these communities, leading to the invention of patrani and paturi?
Whatever the origin, especially in today’s world of healthy eating, I strongly recommend you try to find a restaurant or a home where these dishes are prepared—or better yet, try making them yourself. You will be pleased!