Is Sambar Not Originally From South India?

As you put the steel katori to your lips to greedily slurp down the last tangy bit of your sambar, it’s unlikely you ever considered its origins. “South Indian?” most people ask confidently if you quiz them, and we only say that because we actually asked as well. Of course, we wouldn’t be dedicating this many pixels to something that hasn’t been disputed, and it turns out that there’s been a lot of speculation about the origin of Sambar, many agreeing that this beloved dish can actually be traced back to Maharashtrian roots.

Our first point of reference was a paper written by PR Ramachander, titled Origin of Sambar, and yes, there really are academic papers about it. His take on the matter is that the name ‘Sambar’ doesn’t seem to have any roots in south India. “No word in any of the south Indian language(s) gave a meaning to that word. I was thinking it has to do something with Sambharam (Collection). But I was not able to connect this word to Sambar,” he writes.

Ramachander articulates that tamarind, an essential Sambar ingredient, has been a staple in many dishes native to the south Indian region for close to 400 years. However, Ramachander feels back in the 1600s there was only one south Indian dish that incorporated the ingredient like one would with Sambar. It was called Pitlai, a Tamilian concoction prepared with tamarind, pepper and green gram dal. Tamarind was, of course, the souring agent and cooked green gram dal, rice powder or ground coconut paste could all be used as a thickening agent. Thus, even though Pitlai is less sophisticated than Sambar, it drew on similar flavours that now build the base of the famous dish.

So with a little context we moved on to The Story of Sambar written by Dr. Padmini Natarajan. She explains that around 400 years ago the Marathas were ruling the Tanjore region of Tamil Nadu under King Sambhoji, a veritable cook who took his Amti seriously. Amti is dal-based dish, hailing from Maharashtra, which calls for a healthy amount of kokum to ‘tarten’ things up.

However, kokum was imported from the Marathas’ native territory, and one fine day the royal kitchen ran out of the tangy fruit. In Natarajan’s words, the king’s “minions were shivering in their dhotis to tell him that his favourite dish could not be made that day.” Nevertheless, Natarajan asserts a kitchen-hand, “whispered in the king’s ears that the locals used very little tamarind pulp to gain a better sourness to the curry.” So the king, desperate for his Amti, used tamarind pulp with tuvar dal, vegetables, and spices resulting in a pretty tasty dish— the first form of Sambar, or Sambhar, named after its illustrious creator.

Questioning the origin of Sambar has shaken us to the core—it’s like saying Rajinikanth could be Punjabi. Okay, perhaps not that extreme, but you get the point. However, if the original Sambar was still technically made within south India, shouldn’t it still be considered a south Indian invention? We’ll leave it to the food historians. All we know is that the modern Tamilian Sambar is made with drumstick, which in our minds takes the cake, or in this case, the idli.