My very first exposure to the food and drink of Nagaland was an indirect one. It was, in fact, the 2019 film Axone — which features a bunch of Delhi-based Naga youth trying to sneakily cook a smoked pork and axone (fermented soybean paste) dish much to their landlady’s chagrin — that had me suitably intrigued by the cuisine of India’s far north-eastern state.
As I recently travelled through Nagaland, I could see why this seemingly simple, yet complex cuisine may not be everyone’s cup of tea...or plate of curry! And one of the main reasons is the highly pungent-smelling axone that’s also called akhuni.
Strength of flavours
Literally meaning “strong smell” in the Naga Sümi language, it is a combination of two words. Axo means “smell” and ne means “strong”. Thus, this fermented soybean paste that is used in various dishes, adds depth and complexity to their profile.
At a restaurant on the outskirts of Kohima, the chilly, mist-shrouded capital of Nagaland, I had my first encounter with axone that went into a smoked pork curry that once I got past the strong smell, I relished with gusto alongside boiled white rice. I chased this with a delicious chicken curry enhanced with the delicate flavour of perilla leaves.
As I headed 12 kilometres out of Kohima, towards the Kisama Heritage Village (located between the villages of Ki’gwema and Phe’sama) that’s been home to the annual Hornbill Festival of art, culture, music and yes, food for the last 25 years, I realised how Nagaland’s unique and rich culinary tradition is reflective of its diverse tribal cultures.
At the heart of this village is the traditional Naga kitchen that is equipped with a clay stove and an open fire. This hearth imparts a unique smoky flavour to the food. Another flavouring agent I came across was Anishi. These are fermented taro leaves made into patties and then smoked over the fire and are an Ao Naga delicacy. Similarly, a popular dish of the Lotha Nagas is the fermented bamboo shoot, locally known as bastenga. It is often served with fish and pork in a curry form with wild rice.
Sides & sips
Over my three days in Nagaland, I was also told of the chilli’s great significance, reflecting the region’s penchant for spicy food. The Naga chilli, known for its intense heat, is often used in fresh or dried form to add a fiery kick to dishes. It is especially essential to condiments like the pickle-meets-chutney preparation called thathu that is eaten with the main curries.
Still at the Heritage Village, I thoroughly enjoyed my first few glasses of zutho, a potent Naga rice beer that is served out of a ceremonial hollowed-out horn of a mithun (bison). This homemade brew, made from fermented rice, is an important aspect of Naga hospitality. As is thuthse which is another fermented drink made from sticky rice. It is the traditional drink of the Angami and Chakhesang Nagas and is thicker, stronger and sweeter than zutho, I was told.
Distilling depth
As I travelled through this fascinating land, the significant use of grain in Naga alcoholic beverages became even more pronounced as I discovered a local whisky made entirely out of corn. Ringed by dense forestation on the Assam-Nagaland border in Khatkhati, I stopped by the Radiant Manufacturers’ distilling unit for a unique (and free) guided tour.
Here, I was told how corn mash sourced from the Lower Brahmaputra valley and mainly Nagaland (as the state is one of the largest producers of corn in India), is made into their signature whisky in a technique that borrows a lot from the way spirits are distilled locally. Allowed to mature in charred, new American oakwood casks — for either two or, four-year expressions — the whisky is made not just from the aforementioned Naga corn, but also with water channelled directly to the distillery from the Dhansiri, a tributary of the Brahmaputra. Adding more local nuances to its production, the spirit is filtered through bamboo charcoal which helps absorb impurities from the whisky, leaving it with a distinct mineral-like, full-bodied flavour. One that has sweet and slightly spicy taste notes, with hints of coffee and blackberries.
Marketing highs
I’ve always firmly believed that to truly know a place and its people, a visit to a local market or bazaar is imperative. And so, in Dimapur, for half a day before catching my early afternoon flight back home, I headed out to a market that is more than just a misnomer. Called the ‘Wednesday Supermarket’, this traditional Naga fresh foods and meat market is open on all days, not just on Wednesdays and is nothing like a supermarket at all.
A warren of stalls and makeshift shops, I found everything from the aforementioned anishi, axone and all kinds of edible bamboo — from the conical tender shoots to the fermented bastenga, available here. I even managed to pick up a half-kilogram bag of black rice, a jar of Naga chili-beef thathu and a kilogram of the freshest oyster mushrooms to bring back home, for a mere Rs 100 each. But what really piqued my curiosity at the market was the sheer volume of seemingly ‘exotic’ critters sold here for consumption. From dried-up freshwater eels and tiny frogs, to bee larvae still wriggling in their honeycomb homes. There were even baskets of pointed shell fresh snails that I was told cause intoxication when cooked in a certain way. Having no need for any kind of intoxication, I headed to the airport. Satiated. But, I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t already intoxicated. The sights, smells and yes, tastes of Nagaland had done their number on me... and continue to do so.