Jaggery

Let me tell you about jaggery, and why it is not just "brown sugar with a different name."

White sugar comes to you washed clean, crystal by crystal. Jaggery comes to you the way it left the pot — boiled down, skimmed, and poured into a mould, nothing taken out. Break a piece and you feel it: dense, a bit crumbly, slightly sticky at the edge. Smell it and you get caramel, sometimes smoke, sometimes something close to toffee burnt at the edge. That is jaggery talking, not sugar.

Choose it the way you choose good bread: by nose and by touch. The shade can run from pale gold to deep brown — never mind which, that is not what matters. It should smell warm and caramel-like, never sharp or sour. Press the block: it should feel firm, not weep or go sticky-wet in your hand, and show no damp patches. Taste a crumb: clean and round, never bitter.

Some people say jaggery is "just sugar with molasses stirred back in" — no! Nobody put the molasses there; it simply never left. That is why you cannot swap it one-for-one with white sugar and expect the same pot. Add it as you go, taste as you go, and watch for a darker colour and a deeper caramel smell than white sugar ever gives you.