Chickpea flour—known as besan in India and farine de pois chiche in France—is the culinary equivalent of a multi-talented character actor. It doesn’t always get the spotlight, but it’s always there, quietly elevating dishes with its nutty charm and protein-packed prowess. In India, it’s a kitchen superstar, showing up in everything from crispy street snacks to decadent desserts. In France, it’s more of a niche player, but no less beloved, especially in the sun-drenched south where it stars in rustic, wood-fired delights. And let’s not forget its one quirk: if you’re cooking with it, wash your bowl immediately. Left too long, it transforms into a glue-like substance that could probably hold together a crumbling brick wall.
Besan or Gram Flour in India
In India, besan isn’t just an ingredient; it’s a way of life. It’s the kind of thing your grandmother would have stashed in a giant tin, ready to whip up something magical at a moment’s notice. Its nutty flavour and uncanny ability to bind, thicken, and crisp make it indispensable.
Take pakoras, for instance. These golden fritters—whether stuffed with spinach, paneer, or even just a lonely chilli—are the ultimate rainy-day snack. Dunked in tangy tamarind chutney, they’re the kind of thing you can’t stop eating, even when you know you should. Then there’s kadhi, a yogurt-based curry thickened with besan, which is like a warm hug in a bowl. And let’s not forget gatte ki sabzi, where chickpea flour dumplings swim in a tangy, spiced gravy. It’s the kind of dish that makes you wonder why anyone bothers with meat.
But besan isn’t just about savoury. It’s also the secret behind besan laddoo, those melt-in-your-mouth sweets that taste like toasted nuts and childhood memories. And then there’s Mysore pak, a fudge-like confection so rich it feels like it should come with a warning label.
Oh, and if you’re making khandvi for an evening snack or as an item on a Gujarati thaali—those delicate, rolled-up spirals of spiced chickpea batter—don’t even think about walking away from the kitchen. One wrong move, and you’ve got a sticky mess that’s more abstract art than an appetizer.
Chickpea Flour in France: The Art of Simplicity
Across the Mediterranean, in the south of France, chickpea flour takes on a more minimalist vibe. Here, it’s all about socca, the humble yet irresistible pancake that’s a staple of Nice’s street food scene. Imagine a thin, crispy-edged disc, blistered from the wood-fired oven, seasoned with nothing more than olive oil and a crack of black pepper. It’s the kind of thing you eat standing up, preferably with a glass of rosé in hand.
Then there’s panisse, the French cousin of the Italian polenta stick. Made by cooking chickpea flour into a smooth, creamy dough, slicing it into batons, and frying until golden, it’s the kind of snack that makes you wonder why French cafés aren’t on every street corner. Crispy on the outside, velvety on the inside, and perfect with a sprinkle of salt—it’s a masterclass in simplicity.
A Flour for All Seasons
What’s remarkable about chickpea flour is its chameleon-like ability to adapt. In India, it’s the backbone of countless dishes, from the everyday to the celebratory. In France, it’s a rustic treat, a reminder of the beauty of simplicity. And yet, despite their differences, both cuisines share a deep appreciation for this ancient ingredient.
So, the next time you’re cooking with chickpea flour, remember: it’s not just flour. It’s a bridge between cultures, a blank canvas for creativity, and, yes, a bit of a diva when it comes to cleanup. But trust me, it’s worth it. Just don’t forget to wash that bowl.
