When it comes to khees, time and place is everything
Text by Shikha Kaiwar
Rammo Mausi in her Meerut home, preparing the dough for puris. Photo credit: Shikha Kaiwar
“The buffalo has given birth.”
Rammo Mausi is frying puris over the gas flame and doesn’t miss a beat. “So go over there.”
My brother and I had fallen deep into our phones, or at least were trying to. Here at my mom’s sister’s place in Meerut, Uttar Pradesh, life runs a bit more slowly. Our morning ritual usually consists of waking up late, drinking chai and trying to find the Internet. We glance at each other, unsure what to do with this information. It’s 10 o'clock in the morning, and breakfast won’t be ready for another 30 minutes. We’re jetlagged — or lazy, it could be either — and now the buffalo has given birth?
It’s our neighbours’ buffalo a few houses down. She hangs out in a concrete barn attached to the side of their house, and we see her head poking out to say hello when we walk down the street. While Meerut is by no means a small town — it has a population of 1.5 million — in many ways, it still reflects life in small-town India. WiFi isn’t ubiquitous, English is rarely seen or spoken, groceries often come from the sabziwalla rolling his wheelbarrow of vegetables, and the milkman arrives every morning by motorcycle to drop off large metal canisters of fresh milk. It’s not uncommon for families like our neighbours to own their own buffalo.
***
In Meerut and in many parts of South Asia, buffaloes are an economic part of life. Unlike cows, buffaloes don’t carry a particular religious or spiritual significance in Hinduism, which has allowed them to be used as farm and dairy animals. Buffalo farming is a profitable business with lots of employment opportunities, important for a country with over 1.3 billion people. Over half the global water buffalo population resides in India, and 80 percent of the world’s supply of buffalo milk comes from India and Pakistan. Ownership is also common across religions — according to the National Sample Survey Office (NSSO), in 2013, roughly the same percentages of Sikhs, Hindus and Muslims owned cattle.
Buffalo milk is also more nutritious than cow milk and consumed widely in India. On average, buffalo milk contains more protein, fat, vitamins, and minerals such as calcium. In a country where skim and nonfat are not a ubiquitous part of food culture, and consuming dairy is a daily affair, buffalo milk simply tastes better. In fact, the Vedas — the ancient religious scriptures upon which Hinduism is built — mention more types of dairy products than any other food source like grains, fruit, or vegetables.
***
“The buffalo has given birth,” my mausi repeats. “Go get the khees before breakfast. There’ll be a line soon, but since you both have come from America, they’ll make sure you get some.” When we arrive at the concrete barn, Neighbour Aunty (no relation to us) pulls us inside. Within seconds, there’s a large Ziplock bag full of warm milk in my hands.
It looks nothing like what’s in my cartons back home. This milk is the colour of tarnished ivory and streaked with pale yellow ribbons. It’s thick and it’s warm because it is fresh—I can see the buffalo standing in front of me, her new calf cuddling her on one side and Neighbour Uncle gingerly collecting the extra colostrum on the other.
Colostrum is the first milk produced after a baby is born. It’s full of antibodies and probiotics to help nurture the baby’s immature immune system and protect against disease and infection. While all mammals produce colostrum, bovine colostrum is similar to human colostrum, and the practice of drinking raw milk traces back to 2,000 BC. According to Ayurvedic practices, fresh milk contains many healing properties and is part of a sattvic diet that focuses on eating fresh, seasonal foods. Consuming warm milk is also thought to help fight disease, as opposed to drinking cold milk that could help exacerbate it.
Colostrum is key to a newborn’s development and nutrition, but cows and buffaloes tend to produce an excess of it. Traditionally, the buffalo mother is always allowed to give as much colostrum to her calf as it needs, and only then is the rest collected and distributed among the community. If this balance is broken, the mother will become distressed, which can cause her to stop producing milk properly.
Back at home, Rammo Mausi dumps the bag of milk into a large saucepan, shooting a warm gust into my nostrils, equal parts fresh and pungent. She adds some jaggery and ground cardamom and stirs the pot over medium-low heat. “We've been waiting for almost a year for her to give birth,” she explains. “How lucky that you two visited at this time, so you can have some and be in good health.”
She serves the finished khees in a stainless steel bowl. Chopped neon green pistachios fleck the top, adding salt and crunch. Amber sugar crystals nestle into the crevices, melding into one another. The tangy whiff is gone and replaced by aromas of sweet cream, caramel and comfort. It’s the consistency of pudding, but the freshest, fattiest milk pudding I have ever had. Each spoonful has its own unique flavour — some bites are as thick as grits, chewy and alive, others are soft and pillowy. I now understand why our mausi was rushing us to collect some — the hype is real.
Known by different names across the country, khees (or kharwas) is often steamed to pudding consistency
Culinary consultant and cookbook author Saee Koranne-Khandekar created this kharwas, scented with orange zest and saffron, served with an edible gum and almond crumb, and served with fresh orange segments. Photo by Saee Koranne-Khandekar
Khees has other names and preparations based on which part of India you’re in. It’s known as kharwas in Maharashtra, ginnu haalu in Karnataka, seem paal in Tamil Nadu, junnu paalu in Andhra Pradesh, and bari in Gujarat, to name a few. Sometimes it is steamed into a pudding-like consistency, and other spices like saffron, cinnamon, and cardamom are added. This is in keeping with the Ayurvedic traditions of using warm spices to counter the mucous-forming properties of milk and aid digestion.
Not much is known about annual production and distribution of colostrum due to its ephemeral nature. It can appear at any time in the year, and production can’t be forced without putting the buffalo and calf at risk. While it is possible to purchase solidified blocks of colostrum in some street markets in India, this can only happen when there is ample access to farmers who practice buffalo husbandry and one or more of those buffaloes gives birth. It’s not uncommon to find adulterated versions of colostrum that have been mixed with condensed milk or cornstarch to give the appearance of the real thing. These impure versions can be found online or in stores. The average female buffalo produces two calves every three years, making colostrum not so much a staple, accessible ingredient as a rare, respected treat whether you live in large, urban cities or small villages.
This was the first and last time I ever ate khees. In my subsequent visits to India, the buffalo didn’t give birth, and at some point, Rammo Mausi moved across town and we never saw those neighbours again. I was at the right place at the right time to witness and experience this deep connection between India and its buffaloes, a connection which may erode over time as the country moves to create a more regulated dairy sector. There is increased interest from foreign dairy brands that aim to use Western methods of pasteurisation to distribute milk at scale, and these companies could hurt local farmers, many of whom own only a few animals and can’t compete with large conglomerates. To eat khees is to be connected to these farmers and their buffaloes and to appreciate the traditions of an older, seasonal way of life.
