The story behind hing, one of India's most divisive ingredients



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An appetizer or an appetizer? A medicine or a pesticide?

Asafoetida sounds innocent enough: it's a wild fennel plant native to Afghanistan, Iran, and Uzbekistan.

The resin from its roots is used in Indian cuisine, usually after being ground into a powder and mixed with flour. To say it has a powerful smell would be an understatement. In fact, its aroma is so pungent that it might be the most divisive ingredient in the country.

'Asa' means chewing gum in Persian and 'foetida' means stinky in Latin. But in India it is simply called hing.

If you accidentally get it on your hands, it will persist no matter how many times you wash them. Put a pure pinch on your tongue and your mouth will start to burn.

At Old Delhi's Khari Baoli market, for example, it even manages to “smell better” than all the other spices.

“Hing is the mother of all base notes in Indian cuisine,” say Siddharth Talwar and Rhea Rosalind Ramji, co-founders of The School of Showbiz Chefs.

“It closed the gap of onion and garlic flavors that were banned due to religious beliefs in the largely vegetarian Indian communities such as Jain, Marwari and Gujarati. Despite the culinary diversity of India, everything is a constant.”

Jains, for example, avoid onion, garlic and ginger, in addition to not eating meat.

Ramji admits that the smell can be a challenge: raw food has been compared to rotten cabbage. He has even been given the nickname “devil's dung.”

But a small amount goes a long way. Talwar recommends putting a tiny amount of the stuff in hot oil.

Most people buy a powdered version mixed with rice or wheat flour. However, more adventurous cooks will buy the solid crystalline form, which looks like rock salt.

Some scholars credit Alexander the Great for first bringing it to India.

“The popular theory is that Alexander's army found asafoetida in the Hindu Kush mountains and confused it with the rare silphium plant, which has similar characteristics to asafoetida,” explains culinary historian Dr. Ashish Chopra.

“They painstakingly took the plant with them to India…only to discover later that it was not what they (expected). However, the Indians have already had their encounter with him; he came, he saw and he stayed.”

The professor adds that it was used in some Greco-Roman kitchens, but it did not last long. Today, it is virtually absent from Western food, with one notable exception: Worcestershire sauce.

But as eating patterns and global appetites change, some chefs are trying to remake their recipes by omitting onion and garlic in favor of asafoetida.

According to Talwar, “something that can enhance the umami flavor sensation, essential for stews and broths.”

“The concept of umami was first introduced by Japanese food experts, but it is now the fifth base note in gastronomy after sweet, bitter, sour and salty.”

American company Burlap & Barrel even sells a Wild Hing blend made with turmeric, marketed to people with garlic sensitivities or those on a low-FODMAP diet.

But flavor isn't the only reason jars of the proverbial genie are found on many spice shelves around the world. According to the National Library of Medicine, asafoetida has been used as a cough expectorant, antispasmodic, and to kill parasites or worms. Some promote it as an effective Ayurvedic remedy for stomach gas.

Furthermore, not everyone has bought something for the purpose of eating it.

Africans and Jamaicans sometimes wore asafoetida amulets, believing it could repel demons. In 1918, in the United States, some people carried sachets or bags containing asafoetida to protect themselves from the Spanish flu.

Today, its repulsive properties are best used as a pesticide in organic farming.

Surprisingly, although India is the largest consumer of asafoetida in the world, until recently it had never been grown in the country.

About three years ago, in the cold desert of the Himalayan region, farmers announced that they were trying to grow their own thing.

The growth process of asafoetida can be slow. But if India manages to grow its own, that could mean saving about $100 million a year by importing the product.

And, perhaps most importantly, Indians might have a favorite flavor that is entirely Indian.

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