Bunny chow from across the sea
A HOLLOWED-OUT loaf of white bread filled with spicy curry is a hallmark South African dish called a bunny chow or simply “bunny”. The bunny is the hallmark street food of Durban, historically especially popular among the black and the sizeable Indianorigin population. Now fine-dine versions of the dish are also taking gourmet restaurants by storm.
The dish is quintessentially South African in that its origin is as eclectic as the rainbow nation. Bunny chow went “bread-in-hand” with the race Struggle of the nation.
Banias are a caste of traders, businessmen and merchants. They were reputed for their tact, commercial acumen, conflict-aversion and craftiness. Banias, though ubiquitous, are originally from western India, hailing from the states of Rajasthan, Gujarat and Maharashtra. They are predominantly strict vegetarians and teetotallers, keenly observant of various religious reservations.
They owe their name to “vanijya”, the Sanskrit word for finance, a testimony to their monetary preoccupation. When the British arrived in India, they noticed that members of the Bania community used to gather under a vast-canopied fig tree, which they named the banyan tree, from Bania. But India wasn’t the only British colony, to which the Banias etymologically leant.
Members of the Bania community readily migrated to South Africa from the western port cities. Towards the close of the 19th century, the industrial revolution had arrived. Indigenous cotton mills were flourishing, and a native breed of entrepreneurs arose, mainly comprising the Parsi community of Bombay.
In spite of the rampant discrimination, the hard-working community built their bases from grassroots, congregated, formed unions and with their acclaimed artfulness and keenness, built a great work ethic over time.
The Banias retained their native fastidious ways, abiding by strict daily routines, particularly dietary ones.
South Africa lacked legumes and lentils, the basis of most traditional west Indian cuisine. So the Banias devised a solution: a motley vegetable-based gravy, flexibly using the pulses and leguminous beans as and when available.
Most of the migrant workers lived away from their wives, and rolling a chapati or roti (the traditional Indian unleavened flatbread) was no easy chore, taking years of practice to master.
Hence the diaspora tweaked their staple diet ever so slightly, substituting the roti with the readily-available bread loaf. In India, the Banias have an archetype, they ration their time and sales very meticulously. They are also associated with a notorious thriftiness, in spite of their wealth.
The migrant workers who toiled day and night wished to use every second away from home to earn as much as possible to take back, particularly agitated by the act of crossing the sea being a sinful liberality of which they had availed themselves. In this burden of liability, the migrants had no fuss to spare for culinary preparation, yet longed for their homeland food. The perfect optimal compromise?
Ready-made bread requiring no cooking, and easy to chew and digest, filled with saliently-Indian savoury curry that perfectly complements the blandness of the former.
This is a testament to the characteristic adaptability of the community, which enabled them in the olden days to spread all over India as travelling tradesmen.
Ever-conciliatory, non-confrontational and pacifist, the Banias’ traits made them ardent survivalists, regardless of terrain and time, come what may. Indeed, the Banias added a distinct hue to the rainbow nation.
Bunny was a flexible dish, improvised to save time. Bread’s advent was clearly a colonial influence; however, the hasty lifestyle of bustling Bombay and the Gujarati affinity to digestive ease are its most apparent and defining traits. Because most of the Bania diaspora in South Africa, reputed for their hard-working, work-engrossed, and punctual nature, were working for firms from Bombay, the culture caught on with them.
The dish could be readily put together: its preparation and assembly isn’t time-consuming and it’s highly customisable, the perfect fit for a dutybound worker. This is the same nature observed in Mumbai’s famous street food: vada pao, misal pao, pav bhaji, bhelpuri etc – ever-ready bun dishes that can be assembled at a snap of the fingers.
Remarkably, Gandhiji belonged to the same Durban-resident community. He was a Gujarati Bania sent to South Africa by a typical Bombay-based Parsi-owned firm. The dish has since evolved to more often than not be meat-based, although the original version was vegetarian, given that the Bania community predominantly observes strict vegetarianism.
The dish is said to date back to the first migrant Indian workers’ arrival in South Africa, though the 1940s have been formally established as its origin.
The bunny chow was devised for its handiness for the Indian labourers who came to work at the cane plantations of KwaZulu-Natal and required a way of carrying their lunches to the field: a hollowed-out loaf of bread. Given they were vegetarian gravies, their weight was sustainable, unlike the mutton that would come later.
The Indian roti, with which the workers were familiar, is easily broken and eaten thus. Hence cheap breakprone bread which had a weak structure served as better, more faithful substitutes for roti than other bread.
In between toil, workers would pack their curries inside the bread to save time. The bread would soak up the juices, soften, and be delicious.
This handiness would soon get an unexpected utility: the bunny resurged during the apartheid era, when most restaurateurs would not permit black diners inside, and would instead pack the curries in a loaf of bread and serve it as a takeaway.
Just as Indians resorted to utensil-less food due to the discrimination they faced, the dish became a staple among blacks, as diners didn’t permit them to use their crockery and cutlery, and sit and eat with the whites.
Ever quick-witted, the Banias capitalised on this opportunity and became restaurateurs, opening small bistros to serve the takeaway, some later evolving into large, sumptuous eateries.
Indeed, the bunny chow accompanied the freedom fighters of two nations, at every step. The bunny is a dish of solidarity.
Kaushik is a journalist, columnist, writer and amateur researcher based in Bokaro Steel City, India, having previously written for various newspapers and magazines including The Gulf News, The Sunday Independent, The Hindu, The New Delhi Times and The Telegraph.