Litti Chokha’s evolution across 7 South Asian dynasties — today’s Bihari classic
I close my eyes, picturing train rides, traveling in a time where it felt like distance wasn’t virtual. It was a family event, a time to slow down, to catch up — how have you been? Maybe because I associate distance with family as we grew up in different places, being one family in a train car was a privilege. Station to station, vendors would come on board to announce cutlets, jhalmuri (puffed rice), chana, and other snacks.
In this family though, my mom had a habit of being prepared — out came the Litti and in a little pot, some chokha. Two of them, and you could easily fall asleep with a full belly. Some train rides were a day, a lot of them were more than a couple — how did they not spoil? As much as I craved the whimsy of spending money on those trips at the time, these days I just hope I can recreate the magic. The versatility of these pucks of satwa or sattu (gram lentil flour) remind me of our resourcefulness, a legacy that predates us.
SO WHAT IS IT?

From fire pits made of cow dung chips (goitha) to now being baked in our ovens or tava, this dish becomes an icon for folx that know of it as a representative of ‘Bihari’ cuisine. Litti and chokha is a combination of discs of dough cooked with a spiced chickpea mixture paired with a smoky eggplant mash. Relished with ghee, it can be easily substituted with just some chutney and chokha while being cooked with oil to make it vegan as well.
Modernized by the use of fresh green chilies, red onions, and lots and lots of cilantro. We should also recognize satwa which grounded it as a nomadic stable. The ability to stay edible through hot and sometimes humid weather.
Ancient History tangent..
I carry this dish with me like my ancestors. Amidst surges of fires and power grids being unstable, and a food supply chain that is burdened by unjust practices, our supplies keep needing to be reassessed for sustainability.
Origins swirl around Litti— there are many different points of exchange. Maurya Empire after Magadh from 6th to 8th century BC is one of seven major kingdoms that are attributed with influence over Indus Valley.

Baati was originally a staple in this empire, which is much like Litti except using more water in its dough without any water and served dipped in daal (lentils) which continues to be a favorite in Rajasthan. However as battalions discovered sattu, from what is now Tibet, there was a pivot to Litti. They could cover it in sand to cook without having to worry about lentils to fill them up (sattu took the place of it within the dough).
As new kingdoms came, the dish would be repurposed between battle and royal delicacy. During the Mughal period, emperors were served Littis with payas and shorbas. For a brief moment after Mughal empire, was the dawn of the Maratha Samaj before the British were starting their bid.
Celebrating Battles and Many Queens
Rebels virtually survived on Litti during the Mutiny of 1857 rejecting British rule. The story goes that Rani Lakshmi Bai, chose it as their food to complement strategies that kept them in the cover of jungles and ravines. With the danger of their homes being reduced to rubble ever present, Lakshimibai would often go into battle with her child. People often marvel at the last escape Lakshimibai would make in the battle of Jhansi’s fort, how was she able to accomplish it?
In the shadows but always at her side was our Dalit Warrior Queen, Jhalkaribai. She remained a prominent advisor since the moment they met, whether it was Litti strategies to sacrificing her life to provide Jhansi ki Rani one last escape — her story remains for us to elevate because we fought like one.
A curious case of satwa..
As satwa, the main ingredient, went from food for battle to the lifeline that nourished folx while governments were apathetic during famines dubbed ‘protein of the poor’. What was once a symbol of freedom was no longer allowed in temples. Its a wonder how Litti Chokha became to be recognized as homogenous to being Bihari.

Timelines can become blurry. If we go through the categorizations laid into us, divided into Bhojpuris, Maithils, and Magadhis. We can see ways in which the old empire’s dishes might have made its way. Post partition, Bhojpuri community saw the ways we were divided as laborers across Pakistan, Bangladesh, Nepal and before that to Fiji, Guyana, and other parts of the Caribbean and South Africa. Perhaps this is where the sentiment of “Bihari Bikhari” began. (In english, a loose translation would be beggar, in context it is a term laden with casteism)
Zooming out, we see appearances in the Quran as saweeq which would be mixed with dates, in Odisha its often called chatua and made for breakfast, in Punjab sattu is used with jaggery, and in Fiji/Guyana called satwa. In many ways its satwa we’re highlighting in this dish that we all had access to as we spanned borders, religions, and caste. An example of code switching.
Recent History
Displaced, ways of language and fitting in were derived in plantations and mining. Colonies as they were called, were being set up to accommodate the villages that were being ‘developed’.
For folx who were still in the mainland, a lot found themselves in steel plants. In them, people found ways to share themselves and perhaps this multiculturalism happened as folx from Bengal, Punjab, Nepal, Odisha, Bihar, and Assam found themselves under one roof post partition. Circulating cuisines that were less known before and creating acceptance. Seeing my family dispersed through the world, I have a deeper appreciation of why home was complex and the ways we’re still trying to find one another.
Our experiences as a diaspora can vacillate in either the alienation because of the ways we couldn’t fit in or when we did, distanced from understanding our culture. Litti Chokha is iconic, hopefully also for sparking questions of a complex history we’re unraveling so that we can continue questioning the type of policies that still attempt to remove people from their homes.
Find the recipe here. Prep time is an hour, feeds 4!
Originally published at https://currystories.org on September 11, 2020.