Ruchira explores the origins of the samosa, a golden, triangular delight spanning continents and centuries, evolving from ancient travel snack to beloved global treat, exclusively for Different Truths.

I simply love samosa. I am sure millions of others do likewise. They are such a visual delight too! Those glistening, amber-golden brown, triangular shells, the scrumptious contents within…not forgetting the lovely aroma that wafts everywhere while the pyramid-shaped snacks are being fried… Mind blowing, to say the least.

The samosa has completed a remarkable journey, leaving its mark in various corners of the world. From Egypt to Libya and from Central Asia to India, this triangular stuffed pastry has earned widespread fame under different names. Historical records also refer to it as “sanbusak,” “sanbusaq,” or “sanbusaj,” all of which trace their roots back to the Persian word “sanbosag.”

History reveals that in Central Asian communities, samosas were favored for their utility, especially during travel. These small pastries provided an easy snack that the travelers could conveniently pack into their saddlebags and enjoy during the journey. In Central Asia, to date, “somsa” is baked rather than fried. The most favored filling consists of minced lamb and onions, though cheese, beef, and pumpkin are available options.

In Arab countries bordering the Mediterranean, the semi-circular “sambusak” features a delightful filling of minced chicken or meat combined with onions, feta cheese, and spinach. In the Horn of Africa, particularly in Ethiopia, Somalia, and Eritrea, samosa is traditionally served during special festive occasions including Ramadan, Christmas, among many.

The introduction of samosa to South Asia can be traced back to the period (13th–14th century) of the Muslim Delhi Sultanate, when skilled cooks from the Middle East and Central Asia found employment in the Sultans’ kitchens and onward to other countries located to the east of India. In Indonesia, samosas are locally known as “samosa” and are filled with potato, cheese, curry, and noodles. They are typically served as snacks with sambal, a viscous sauce.

The renowned scholar and Delhi’s court poet Amir Khusro documented that princes and nobles relished samosas prepared with meat, ghee, onions, et al. The famous Moroccan traveler Ibn Battuta also mentioned the wafer-thin pastry filled with minced meat and peas, served at lavish banquets at the court of Mohammad bin Tughlaq; even now the samosa continues its legacy in Hyderabad as the much loved “lukhmi.“

Samosas sell like hot cakes across the Subcontinent—from Afghanistan to Pakistan through Nepal to Bangladesh. Did you know that Afghani Sambosas are stuffed with spiced ground meat and peas and baked to a flaky golden hue?  The exterior is sprinkled with roasted sesame seeds. Serve with yogurt and mint dip.

In India, the commonplace desi name stays put as samosa. However, the Bengali term for this popular snack is “shingara,” which should not be confused with “singhaara,” the Hindi word for water chestnuts. The two are as different as chalk and cheese. The proverbial sweet-toothed Bongs also enjoy “khirer shingara,” which is made with a filling of thickened dried cream, known as mawa or khoya.

In line with its Central Asian and West Asian ancestry, the Bengali samosa also has a non-vegetarian version. This one has a spicy filling made of shredded chicken or mutton, depending on availability. It must be noted that Bengalis invariably flavour their samosa with kalojeera (kalonji/nigella) seeds, which they incorporate into the dough while it’s being kneaded.

Yet another hallmark of their samosa is the inclusion of peanut kernels and cauliflower florets. Together they make up the famous and popular phool kopir shingara. Being a vegetable, cauliflower may be used seasonally or when available, but the peanuts remain a static feature  

Talking of samosa, I recall how during my sojourn in Mumbai, many moons ago, a local friend of mine took me for tea at the Taj (the new premises). My jaw dropped when I read that a plate of two average-sized samosa was priced at Rs 35/- Forthwith we settled for Black Forest pastry washed down with cups of cappuccino, which were at least more wholesome than the measly samosa, never mind the fatter bill. Good value for money.

The partner recalling his university days narrates how he used to consume samosas tucked between two slices of bread for lunch. Much inspired, I do that at home occasionally (only for myself) provided both samosas and bread are available.

Of late, samosas have been dragged willy-nilly into the arena of fusion food. So nowadays it’s commonplace to have noodle-filled samosas (influence of SE Asian cuisines), but the fact of the matter is that they are not as delicious as the ubiquitous samosas sold in your neighborhood gali-nukkad. Nonetheless, to each his own.

The shameless foodie that I am, I don’t feel satisfied with just a fragment of a half or only one samosa. Two for me is enough. Period.

So, what are you waiting for? Go, grab a few before they disappear. I might as well… 

Picture design by Anumita Roy

Ruchira Adhikari Ghosh

Born in Guwahati Assam, Ruchira grew up in Delhi and Punjab. A product of Sacred Heart Convent, Ludhiana, she holds a Master’s degree in English Literature from Punjab University, Chandigarh. Armed with a P.G diploma in journalism in Journalism, she has been a pen-pusher for nearly 25 years. Her chequered career encompasses print, web, as well as television. She has metamorphosed as a feature writer, her forte being women’s issues, food, travel and literature.

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