Vegetables dressed with pungent mustard oil and raw onions — bhorta is an emotion every Bangladeshi can connect to. It never fails to astonish me how a hand-pressed ball of three ingredients transports me back to my happy place.

My mother tempering blackened dried red chillies in pure mustard oil to make the simple yet flavourful aloo bhorta, or mashed potatoes. Not to be confused with the western mashed potatoes, which are made with butter and cream. Not saying it’s bad in any way, but it can never beat the spice of our “deshi” version.

We all argue about what makes us Bangladeshi. Some say it’s our festivals, some say it’s our traditions, and I think we can all agree that our love for flavourful food makes us Bangladeshi, and bhorta is definitely up there in that list.

Bhorta is not made with meticulous steps in Michelin-star kitchens. Think about it. They are not fancy or stressful, and don’t need two days of preparation. You take whatever is lying around. Potatoes, eggplants, shutki, even beef or chicken. We can and will turn anything into bhorta. Surprisingly enough, vegetable peels work too!

On a philosophical note, that’s basically the Bangladeshi personality. Life throws problems? Mash it. Mix it. Add a little spice. Carry on.

The simple presentation of bhorta reflects our laidback attitude. No complicated plating techniques, no finishing touches. Just place it on a plate with enough heat and mustard oil for your lips and ears to overheat, and it’s good to go.

To me, it is a mirror of our hearts. It doesn’t take much to make us Bangladeshis happy. All we need is food, friends, family and sleep, just like how a bhorta only needs some daal and rice.

CONTINUED TO PAGE 11