No truism is more apt for the spice asafoetida than ‘one man’s meat is another man’s poison’. This ancient spice that has been lauded in Persia as the ‘Food of the Gods’ down the ages, is scoffed at as ‘Devil’s dung’, ‘stinking gum’ and other such uncomplimentary terms across several European cultures. Its unsavoury names merde du diable in French or teufelsdreck in German, dyvelsträck in Swedish or duivelsdrek in Dutch and Afrikaans all mean the same thing — Devil’s shit. After all, not everyone can stomach the overpowering, niffy pungent odour this condiment emanates; a characteristic that gives it its name. Its botanical name Ferula asafoetida comes from the Latin word ferula meaning ‘carrier’ or ‘vehicle’ while asa is the Latinised version of the Persian word for mastic, aza, a natural resin, and ‘foetidus’ is Latin for ‘smelling fetid’.
Gummylicious
A favourite ingredient especially in vegetarian Indian cooking, asafoetida is widely known across the country by its Hindi name hing, borrowed from the Proto-Iranian word hangwr that means extract or resin. Its derivatives in local parlance come from the same root — yangu in Kashmiri, hinga in Marathi, hengu in Odiya, ingu in Kannada, inguva in Telugu and inku in Tamil. For ages, it featured as a spice in cookery and a reliable medicine in ancient texts and traditional healing methods. But what is it exactly? Hing is the greyish sticky sap of the rhizome and root of the giant Ferula that becomes a brownish resin-like gum on drying.
The herbaceous, flowering plant belongs to the fennel family, growing typically in arid cold desert regions. Despite its widespread use in Indian cuisine and medicine for several centuries, asafoetida was never grown in India; it was only processed here. The plant is indigenous to Central Asia and grows wild in eastern Iran and Afghanistan from where hing is extracted as a thick white sap from its taproot, collected periodically and dried before being exported to the rest of the world in graded variations, sold as blocks, powder or granulated. In India, raw hing is first dried and mixed with wheat flour or rice flour before it is turned into a spice that is stored in air-tight containers that lock its noxious fumes.
The process of extraction is rather intriguing. When the plants are about 4-5 years old, the taproots turn mature enough to be tapped. Before the plants flower in March-April, the upper part of the rhizome is bared and the stem is cut close to the crown. A dome-like structure of wood twigs and mud is made to cover the exposed surface as milky latex begins to slowly exude from the cut. This is scraped off before a fresh cut or incision is made to trigger more sap production. The process is thus repeated for about three months until there is no more exudation. Of the 1,500 tonnes of global production annually, India consumes nearly 40%. What is the reason for this tremendous appetite for such a vile thing?
A spice for meats
Although Ayurveda refers to hing by its Sanskrit names Ramaha, badhika or ugragandha (strong smelling) it is also exalted as sahasravedhi (medicine with 1,000 benefits). It is considered a deepniya (appetiser) and sanjna-sthapaka (restorer of consciousness) and is the main component of the famed herbal formula hingashtak. Asafoetida was popular in Iran and people in the Mediterranean region were familiar with it. Popular theory suggests that
hing was introduced in India by the Mughals in the 16th century, though it arrived here from Afghanistan as mentioned in Hindu and Buddhist texts of 600 BC. According to food historian late KT Achaya, its entry could date even earlier, given the fact that it finds mention as a ‘spice for meats’ in the Mahabharata. Who knows whether Gandhari brought it as part of her wedding trousseau from Kandahar to Indraprastha?
Strangely, the aromatic organosulphide compounds of hing are akin to the sulphur compounds of garlic and onions! By sanctifying it as a substitute for onion and garlic, it became very popular among Jains and orthodox Brahmins. Always used sparingly, hing is used in tempering when heated with oil or ghee. It is said to infuse umami — the fifth basic taste that is exceedingly popular these days — and harmonise or smoothen the flavours of all other spices, while simultaneously aiding digestion and preventing flatulence. Too much hing or burning it, imparts a bitter, acrid taste to the dish. Hing is used to flavour dals, soups and shorbas, sambars, curries, pickles, meatballs and most leguminous and gas-inducing dishes. It is an important ingredient in Kashmiri mutton delicacies like rogan josh, Gujarati khaman dhokla and kadhi, the humble vada pav in Mumbai, the GSB (Gaud Saraswat Brahmin) and Konkani classic hinga uddak and dali toye or the delectable hing kachori of Kolkata. Diehard hing lovers swear that it adds an incomparable zing to any food dish, be it a simple dal or kosambri (salad) or as a final dash of tadka or seasoning.
Hing, a perfumery ingredient
Outside India, asafoetida finds limited culinary use except to prepare Worcestershire sauce or spice up Mexican mushroom enchiladas and Kuaitiao Phat Khi Mao the stir-fried rice noodles of Thailand. It is believed that asafoetida was introduced to Europe by Alexander the Great post 334 BC after his armies encountered it while crossing the mountains of Hindu Kush into India. Mistaking asafoetida for silphium of Cyrene in North Africa — a now extinct plant of classical antiquity used as a spice in seasoning, a meat tenderiser, a perfumery ingredient, and an aphrodisiac and medicine — it soon became a cheap alternative to the rare plant. It was called ting, haltit or tyib in Arabic and noted in early texts of Afghanistan and Iran as a valued remedy for cold, cough, ulcers and menstrual problems. As a precious herb and condiment in Persian kitchens, it was used in several dishes.
Popularly used in stews and broths in classical Roman and Greek cuisine and some Middle Eastern dishes, after the fall of Rome and until the 16th century it was seldom used in Europe, though French gastronomes rubbed a pinch of asafoetida on hot plates before serving beefsteaks. Hing has a fascinating history and stories abound in mythology about its wondrous qualities. And, asafoetida has several surprising uses. Can you imagine this foul-smelling gum figures prominently in the perfume industry? Or that it possesses magical or supernatural properties? During the Middle Ages, people wore the dried gum around their necks to ward off disease and infections. In Jamaican mythology, it served as a spirit repellant. In African-American voodoo, it is used to cast magic spells as curses or protection for humans from demons.
Apparently, asafoetida’s inherent qualities help one gain spiritual insights, invoke male gods, and even banish negative energy and evil spirits! In the old days, it was a common herb prescribed to treat hysteria.
It is mainly employed for medical purposes or as an insecticide. In the past, it was highly valued for its antibiotic, antibacterial and anti-viral properties and recommended to keep children healthy, treat respiratory disorders like asthma, bronchitis, influenza, sort out spasmodic problems and gastric issues like indigestion, gall stones, kidney stones and flatulence or gas as it slows the growth of microflora in the rectum. It played a key role in improving gut health.
In ancient medical practices, it was a cure for whooping cough and ulcers in Afghanistan and a diuretic in Egypt. A decoction of the plant is used as a vermifuge in China. It is also used as an antidote to opium and as a sedative.
A fussy crop
Despite India’s love for the smelly spice, until recently we imported all our asafoetida from Afghanistan, Kazakhstan and Uzbekistan. Even within Afghanistan, Kandhari asafoetida is most prized for its flavour and regarded as the gold standard of the spice. Hing kabuli sufaid (white asafoetida) and hing lal (red asafoetida) are the two main varieties widely available in the market. The Iranian Hadda hing, which is sweeter with a faint smell of oranges, is not so popular. But things are changing. Last year, in 2020 scientists planted 800 seeds in the cold deserts of Lahaul and Spiti, in the hope that the plant would thrive in geographical and climatic conditions similar to its original habitat in Iran.
One can only speculate if dry soil and temperatures under 35 degrees Celsius are enough for a good yield of flavourful asafoetida in five years.
Mind you, it might grow wild in Afghanistan and Iran but this is a fussy and demanding, labour-intensive crop that could choose to remain dormant in inclement weather conditions. Only one or two in a hundred seeds germinate. It would be wise to wait and watch rather than hinge all hopes on a great Indian hing harvest.
(The authors are travel/food writers and culinary consultants “loosely based” in Bengaluru. They run a travel/media outfit customising solutions for the hospitality industry, have authored guides and coffee table books, set up an award-winning restaurant and feature as ‘Dude aur Deewani’ in a new food-based digital infotainment show. Follow their adventures on Instagram: @red_scarab or their Facebook page Red Scarab.)