Walk into any buzzing street corner in Ahmedabad around tea-time, and you’ll be hit with a mouthwatering aroma no curry can rival, a tell-tale sign that a fresh tray of this tangy, spongy yellow snack is leaving the steamer. Ask for 'dhokla' anywhere in Gujarat, and you’re handed a vibrant square—soft, warm, with a whiff of mustard and a cloudlike bounce that makes cakes look dense. Dhokla isn’t just a breakfast or a snack—it's a part of the day, often eaten as a filler when hunger strikes before dinner, or wolfed down with intense joy at family get-togethers. If you never heard of dhokla, think steamed, fermented, savory cake—light as air thanks to chickpea flour and natural fermentation, dotted with spices that warm you from the inside out. Don’t let the word 'sponge' throw you; this isn’t dessert territory. Gujarat’s savory sponge dish is one of the all-time classics of Indian food.
The Origins, History, and Cultural Heart of Dhokla
Way before TikTok food trends and posh vegan cafés, dhokla was ruling the breakfast tables and snack plates of Gujarati homes. The dish has roots that go back centuries, way before India got mapped by the British, and well before the modern kitchen found a place in every home. Some food historians have pinned down evidence of dhokla-like recipes in Gujarati manuscripts as far back as the 16th century. Its current form, made from besan (chickpea flour), water, and a hint of fermentation, is the outcome of centuries of trial, error, and grandma tips passed down so casually that you’ll miss them if you don’t pay attention. Gujarat’s climate, hot and dry for much of the year, helps in the quick fermentation of batters—so dhokla almost invented itself, some say. There’s a running joke in India that if you poke a Gujarati, they’ll ooze dhokla instead of blood.
Dhokla doesn’t take itself too seriously, but its spread across the subcontinent is no joke. Originally a breakfast staple or snack, it quickly snuck its way into lunchboxes, high-tea buffets, festive spreads, and even modern Indian restaurant menus all over the globe. Why? Because it’s easy to digest, works for nearly every dietary preference (vegan, vegetarian, gluten-free), and plays well with just about any chutney you can think of—from the classic coriander-mint green to the fiery garlic red. For Gujaratis, though, dhokla is comfort food. The British even loved it when they first came across it—imagine them at a railway station in colonial India, sipping tea and biting into the fluffy yellow cubes.
The traditional process of making dhokla is as simple as it is ancient. You start by fermenting a batter of gram flour (besan), often with yogurt and a dash of turmeric for color. Eno fruit salt or baking soda sneaked its way into the recipe in modern times, helping create the height and bounce, but true old-schoolers swear by the natural fermentation method. Once the batter is frothy, it’s poured into a greased steaming tray and left to steam, not bake. This is key. It’s what makes dhokla so airy, utterly different from its deep-fried cousins like samosas or pakoras. After steaming, a sizzling tempering—mustard seeds, sesame, curry leaves—is poured over in a gleeful sizzle, soaking into every crevice. It’s then cut into squares, served with fresh chopped coriander and chillies, or even grated coconut for a special touch.
What’s fascinating is how dhokla has splintered into countless variations—the verdant green Khaman dhokla (the most famous kind outside Gujarat), the white Rava dhokla made with semolina, the sandwich dhokla layered with spicy chutney, and the sweetish, tiny Idada. Every family seems to guard their tweaks: one might add ginger, another a dash of lemon, and a neighbor might insist on stirring in a handful of peas for an old-school effect. It’s a dish that has survived world wars, partition, mass migration to the UK, US, Africa—and come out grinning. As Mumbai chef Kunal Kapur once said,
"Dhokla is the food equivalent of a Gujarati greeting—warm, full of energy, and never ending."
How Dhokla is Made: Ingredients, Techniques & Tips
Baking a cake might sound daunting but whipping up dhokla? That’s weeknight-level easy, which is probably why you’ll find handmade dhokla even in the busiest Gujarati kitchens on a Monday morning. It starts with finding the right besan. Good quality, stone-ground chickpea flour is the backbone of authentic dhokla—it gives the cake both its classic nutty flavor and that perfect crumb. You’ll need lemon juice (or yogurt for the more traditional approach), a drizzle of oil, a pinch of salt, ginger-green chili paste for a subtle kick, turmeric for that unmistakable golden color, and of course, either Eno or baking soda for fluff. Some like to mix in a spoonful of sugar for that gentle hint of sweetness—because, let’s face it, Gujaratis love a bit of sweet with their savory.
Fermentation is the secret weapon here. For the best dhokla, mix your batter and let it rest somewhere warm—a sunny window or just by the stove works wonders. The naturally occurring bacteria get to work, breaking down the starches, developing a gentle tang, and giving the batter that lift in flavor and texture. People in colder countries use the oven light trick: leave the bowl in the (off) oven with the light on, and fermentation speeds right up. But if you’re in a rush? Add Eno fruit salt just before steaming. It acts like instant yeast, giving the batter a fizzy foam and that signature ‘rise’.
Steaming deserves a bit of attention. Dhokla is always steamed, never baked or fried. A proper dhokla steamer is traditional, but you can easily get away with a large pan, a metal trivet, and a shallow cake tin. Pour in the batter, steam covered, and in about 15-20 minutes, you get a wobbly, cloudlike slab that springs back when poked. Don’t over-steam. The difference between fluffy and rubbery dhokla is a matter of a few minutes. As soon as a toothpick comes out clean, yank the tin out of the steamer.
But we’re not done yet. The signature of dhokla comes next: an oil tempering poured over while it’s still hot. Sizzle up some mustard seeds, chopped green chillies, curry leaves, and sesame seeds in hot oil, then spoon that over the dhokla. Sometimes, cooks add a splash of water mixed with sugar and lemon, making the dhokla extra moist. It drinks up every drop.
Slice the dhokla into neat squares or diamonds. Sprinkle with chopped coriander or—on special days—freshly grated coconut. Serve it with tangy green chutney or a sweet imli (tamarind) dip. There you have it: the perfect balance between pillowy texture, gentle tartness, and that little buzz of spice.
Don’t have a steamer? Use a big covered saucepan with a heatproof plate at the bottom and a wire rack. Got stale dhokla the next day? Heat it in a hot pan with a bit of water sprinkled over. If you’re really in the mood to experiment, try adding grated carrots, beetroot, or even spinach to the batter—kids won’t know what hit them.
Other secret chef tips? Always sift your besan for the fluffiest result; make sure your steaming water is already boiling before you place the dhokla tin inside; and avoid peeking while it steams, or you’ll lose the lift. Watch out for over-mixing the batter, which can deflate those precious bubbles. If the dhokla feels dense, you may have let the batter sit too long after adding baking soda or Eno. Next time, steam it right away. Hungry yet? Your kitchen is about to smell like Gujarat.
The Role of Dhokla in Modern Gujarat and Beyond
If you think of Gujarat, you can’t separate it from dhokla—walking through the markets in Vadodara or Rajkot, you’ll see shops stacking warm dhokla trays, cut into geometric perfection, next to sweet jalebi and hot tea stalls. But dhokla’s reputation has gone global now. Walk down Southall in London, Edison in New Jersey, or Walthamstow Market any morning, and you’ll spot it stacked behind glass, waiting for someone to walk in for a taste of home. Indian airlines even serve dhokla as an in-flight snack on domestic flights, a compact taste of comfort for nervous fliers.
The global appeal isn’t really a mystery. Dhokla is naturally gluten-free, vegan, and surprisingly low in fat. When the world woke up to plant-based eating, Gujaratis just shrugged—they’d been making dhokla for generations. It fits neatly into almost any specialist diet. Athletes love it as a post-workout snack; kids devour it on sports days for a quick fuel-up; busy commuters eat it on the go, just pulling pieces from a small lunch tin with tangy chutney.
Festivals like Diwali or Uttarayan (the famous kite festival) see giant trays whipped up in nearly every home and shared across communities—no paperwork needed, just grab a square and join the laughter. At family events, dhokla is usually the first thing snapped up by kids and adults alike, well before samosas and sweets. The dish is so iconic, it’s inspired variations in neighbouring states—look out for ‘idada’ in Maharashtra or ‘fermented rice cake’ in Rajasthan, all influenced by the Gujarati original.
What about new-age twists on an old classic? There’s chaat dhokla (think crumbled dhokla layered with yoghurt, chutneys, pomegranate, and sev), baked dhokla (for those who don’t have steamers at hand), even microwave dhokla for impatient teens. Some London cafés have started sandwiching dhokla between slices of brown bread for a quirky, Insta-worthy snack. Dhokla burgers? Yes, they exist. Instagram has given this humble dish a second wind, blowing it up as a ‘must-try’ at trendy pop-ups and posh Indian restaurants from Melbourne to Manchester.
The nutrition angle deserves a look. Fermentation means easier digestibility and better absorption of nutrients like protein and vitamins. Some nutritionists recommend swapping out toast or cereal for dhokla at breakfast, especially for people who want to avoid gluten but crave something filling. Chickpea flour’s low glycemic index also means dhokla is a smart snack for diabetics and anyone watching their blood sugar levels. Even Bollywood stars have raved about dhokla—Priyanka Chopra once admitted on an American talk show she craves dhokla when homesick, and there’s a photo of Shilpa Shetty tearing into a tray of the stuff at Mumbai airport floating around fan pages.
So, how do you eat it? The possibilities are endless. Steaming hot straight from the pan, cooled and packed for picnics, tossed in a salad, disguised as a canapé—for a dish that went from humble village kitchens to global menus, dhokla never lost its simple charm. If you’re planning a trip to Gujarat or just want to spice up your weeknight snack game here in London, don’t miss out. Make it once and you’ll be joining millions of dhokla fans, from tiny toddlers in Ahmedabad to food critics in Soho—and everyone in between. There’s really nothing else like it.