I’ve said before, a couple of times (here and here) that really there’s no such thing as “jam” in the traditional Indian repertoire–only pickles and halvas. The same goes for jackfruit preserves, called “varatti” in Kerala and the Tamil-Kerala borderlands, which means something like to cook things down until they’re moisture-free. At which point, depending on ingredients and intents, they can actually become only one of two things: a pickle or a halva.
The chakka varatti falls straightforwardly in the latter category. Chakka or chakka pazham is likely the Tamil/Malayalam origin of the English “jack fruit.” It’s sweetness is intense, at the best of times, and it would be hard to imagine it a pickle, so, extract all its moisture, and a jam-halva it would have to become. If the one of the distinguishing features of halvas is the use of fats, then the typical chakka varatti is a halva really, which passes as a jam maybe because it’s used like a jam–for example to make Onam and Vishu payasam or Chakka varatti pradhaman.
Here this summer we had an excess of jackfruit–or, more accurately, we had several fruits on the verge of ripening almost all at the same time, a consequence of our own lack of experience in understanding how to cut fruits from the tree and somewhat control the ripening–and therefore the work of cutting and processing, and generally managing the flow of jackfruit from tree to table. Here’s what we learned. Leave the fruits too long on the tree, and they don’t ripen as much as they spoil, or they go so fast from raw to spoiled, seeds germinating so fast within as though they have caught onto the meaning of joie de vivre and want more, more, more. All this happens with such haste, we simply can’t keep up. So, having cut a couple of jackfruits too late from the tree, and having on our hands these fruits that were now rather sulkily turning from almost-ripe to spoiling, we had no choice but ourselves to turn to jam.
Jackfruit jam has never been a favorite, but what a surprise this year’s home-grown home-made version was.
Dulce de leche step aside. Enter this creamy, buttery zero-fat jam made from ripe jackfruit and jaggery., somewhere between a Singaporean or Malay kaya (properly: serikaya), an Argentine dulce de leche, and the classic Indian halva. Add egg and it would have been a classic serikaya, add ghee and nuts and it would have been a proper halva. Nothing would have made it a dulce de leche, but it stands up to dulce de leches well enough in its own right.
We cooked our jackfruit and pureed it before adding jaggery and cooking it down into a jam. Very ripe jackfruit may need no cooking at all and only blending to achieve this level of creaminess. After the pureeing, there’s not much to do but add sweeteners, cook it down, and then flavor it with this and that. It’s almost the same process to follow for mango and, indeed, also banana jams. Maa-pala-vazhai, the “mukkani” of Tamil temple offerings and royal giftings have affinities not just of color (they’re all gold!), but equally of taste (hence the brilliance of mukkani payasam) and also texture, as we see from the jamming process.
Note that this version of chakka varatti uses no ghee and no other fats. This keeps it closer to a jam really, and retains its creaminess (ghee addition would have drawn out the thala-thala jiggle of the best halvas, as well as a certain translucence).
Note also that the color of the sweetener used here is going to affect the color of the resulting jam. The darker the jaggery, the darker the jam. You can use sugar if you like–that will produce the lightest colored jam of them all–but you’ll also lose the depth of flavor that comes from jaggery use.
Here are a whole list of ideas of how to use this jam, beyond just on toast with tea:
- Make spongy jackfruit set dosas. This idea was from my other Shalikuta comadre, Pratiba: Soak Rice (2 cups or so) and methi seeds. Grind this to a smooth dosa batter along with a cup of grated coconut and the jam. Don’t add jaggery because your jam would have the needed sweetness. Leave this in a warm spot for a few hours. Make sweet set dosas, and serve with butter, a little like surnolis.
- Make Pelakai gatti or ilaiappams.
- Make chakka pradaman or payasam by adding thickened milk, and finishing with ghee-roasted nuts and raisins.
- Warm the jam slightly and spoon over a freshly baked chenna poda pitha.
- Use this jam in place of dulce de leche to sandwich alfajores.
- Make a chakka varatti cheesecake–I promise, among the best you will ever have.
- Serve on a cheese platter alongside a good bread and a better brie, walnuts, sliced almonds and peraad or guava cheese.
- Or hell, just eat it out of the jar and lick it clean.
Chakka Varatti or Jackfruit Jam
Ingredients
- 5 cups very ripe jack fruit
- 2 ½ cups jaggery or sugar, plus more to taste if needed
- 1 generous pinch each cardamom, black pepper, dry ginger and nutmeg powders
Instructions
- Cook the jackfruit in a little water until it is very soft. Allow to cool and blend to a smooth paste.
- Put jackfruit paste and jaggery syrup (or sugar) in a heavy-bottomed pan and cook on medium heat. Make sure you taste for sweetness at the outset and adjust by adding more sugar or jaggery syrup if the fruit wasn’t sweet enough to complement the sweeteners.
- Continue cooking and stirring constantly, until you reach a creamy-jammy consistency–about 20-30 minutes.
- Switch off the heat, add the flavorings and mix well.
- Bottle in clean, dry jars, cool and store, refrigerated.
[…] ones. But I’m here to tell you now that really none compare with this one made with chakka varatti or jackfruit jam. Rich with a mysterious buttery caramel-like flavor nobody, I promise, nobody, not even the most […]
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