Hurda Party

For a few short weeks each winter, the jowar in our fields is still soft and milky — not yet grain, not quite ear. That is hurda, and it cannot be bought in a shop or kept for later. It has to be eaten where it grows, within hours of being cut.

We roast it over an open fire on the edge of the field, rub the husk away by hand while it is still warm, and pass it around with chutney, curd, jaggery and a little sev. You sit on the ground, the fire does the work, and the afternoon goes slowly.

It is the oldest kind of hospitality we know, and the reason most of our guests come back the following winter with more people than they brought the first time.