Think Lohri, and among the vast panoply of delicacy, it is unlikely to think of Khajoor — a flour-based sweet treat that has little to do with dates. And for good reasons too. First, Khajoor for the most part has remained privy to the region that it originated — in this case, Amritsar — and that of the community. Second, it is extremely limited-edition. Unlike its peers til ke laddoo and gajjak, this deep-fried treat is made during the peak of winters, mostly towards Lohri when it can be had to the heart’s content and digested well.
This brevity not only gives Khajoor its immense popularity but also its place as the pièce de resistance on the festive table. In fact, it is common in Amritsar for people to queue up for their fill during winters, especially in the week leading to the harvest festival, where Khajoor takes on the same level of ‘want and relish’ as cinnamon-infused goodies in Christmas. But is the seasonality of this sugar-flour and ghee rich treat that gives it such a strong association with Lohri? In parts yes. In fact, even today, the aroma of the freshly fried batch of Khajoor wafting through the bylanes serves as a reminder to the beginning of the Lohri celebrations — which in Amritsar means a week-long festivity of having good food, kite flying and Khajoor, a sweet that could travel well.
While this ensured Khajoor’s association with Lohri, its popularity is more to do with the interesting composition that makes it one of the finest local treats to have. Made of sugar, flour, semolina, and copious amounts of ghee, this deep-fried sweet remains a fine example of ancestors’ adroitness in creating dishes that are a perfect marriage of functionality, wellness, and taste. Just think about it, the dough uses locally grown ingredients that are an integral part of the food habit, which lends the dish a sense of familiarity and easy digestibility.
The making, which is mostly reshaping the dough and then deep-frying it to a golden hue inside a mould that keeps the dough from disintegrating, ensures that the sweetmeat is evenly cooked. In fact, the trance like process almost resembles that of making ghevar, though Khajoor appears to be a bit dense. In taste, it has the same mouthfeel (a bit richer) as any of the flour-based sweets, crisp on the outside and soft inside. But that is where its similarity to the popular Rajasthani sweet ends. Fascinatingly, even though appearance-wise, Khajoor looks dense and very, very rich, it has this lightness on the palate thanks to its porous nature and often crumbles easily on a bite thus creating a feeling of having something that in parts is dense, light, crunchy and outrageously addictive.
Even the sweetness is just right to uplift not only your palate but your mood as well and satiating enough to keep you going till lunch. In fact, Khajoor, since its inception, which many anthropologists believe is the same as Thekua given that the know-how of flour existed since the early years of the Silk Route, and the composition has always found its place among traditional functional food that aide the body against any weather changes. It is believed, and rightly so, that the ghee, dry fruit, and flour used in it supplies not only with the required energy to keep one warm and agile but also builds the digestive ecosystem to tune into the new season that would see a change not in the weather but also in food habits, and lifestyle. This perhaps explains why Khajoor, a high on fat and complex carbohydrate treat, remains an important part of the food habit, even if for a brief time.
Khajoor’s ability to satiate, nurture and create that “happy mood” while made it a significant part of Punjab’s winter feast and Lohri, it was the sheer palate appeal that was enjoyed as much by royalty as it was by commoners that elevated Khajoor to a sweet dish that could best define the spirit of Lohri.
After all, much like a good harvest, Khajoor too is a fruit of labour, patience, the right technique, and the know-how of when to bring it out.
In taste, however, Captain Mackeson, who is said to have attended Maharaja Ranjit Singh’s Lohri celebration had said after his first taste of a Khajoor, “it is the perfect personification of a great Sikh and its ethos. Sweet, warm, soft with an unbreakable zeal to live.” Now, isn’t that what Lohri is truly about?
(The author is a seasoned chef.)