A Mandyara Outshines a Blender Every Time

Growing up as a third-culture kid with Sindhi roots in Dubai, I didn't truly start cooking Indian cuisine until my late 20s. My husband claimed his passion for Indian food rivaled, if not exceeded, his love for me. While I wasn't completely lost in the kitchen—my creamy, well-seasoned hummus was described as “seriously impressive” (his words), and I could whip up a perfectly crispy za’atar-spiced zucchini burger—Indian cooking, with its intricate flavors and textures, had mostly remained unexplored territory for me.

History has created a gap between me and Sindhi cuisine. Sindhis hail from the Sindh region of what is now Pakistan, and my grandparents escaped to India during the Partition in 1947. My parents then moved to Dubai in the ’70s, joining the wave of Indian immigrants to the UAE. My father started in sales and later sold audio cassettes, taking advantage of the business opportunities that the city offered—opportunities not available back in Mumbai. As an adult, I could never quite determine what elements of Sindhi culture and cooking my parents brought to the UAE, what I had absorbed, and what had been lost. Especially after my mother passed away, I feared I had lost her cooking methods and recipes, including those passed down through generations.

During my initial attempts at making Indian food, particularly my native Sindhi dishes, I came to realize that I had absorbed more than I had acknowledged. Yet, I still felt something was lacking; I yearned for the comfort of familiar kitchen tools, like the wooden churner my mother used—a “mandyara” in Sindhi (or “mathani” in Hindi). With its long handle and thick, star-shaped base, this tool is essential in Indian kitchens worldwide for churning thick cream into butter and achieving the ideal consistency for curries, lentils, and stews.

I hadn’t thought about this tool in years, but the memory lingered in my mind: My mother using a mandyara to prepare her mutton kheema (minced lamb) simmered in onion and tomato gravy, a memory that instantly brings to mind the rich aroma of cardamom. It’s reminiscent of how my father often recalls summer afternoons from his childhood, sitting on the veranda of his family home in India, watching my grandmother roll a wooden mandyara between her palms to churn yogurt into frothy lassi.

I realized I needed a mandyara back in my life, so I asked my father to grab one during his visit to family in Mumbai. I was amazed at how naturally my hands knew what to do the first time I used it to make sai bhaji (spinach with split chickpeas); I may not have recognized it then, but I had been learning from my mother all those years. The gentle swish-swish of the churner felt far more calming than the harsh whir of any electric blender, and using the mandyara gave me the assurance that I wouldn’t ruin the ingredients as I did with an immersion blender. More than that, it allowed me to savor each step of the cooking process, appreciating every aroma and texture as I assembled the recipe ingredient by ingredient.

Why you should have a mandyara in your kitchen

After trying various electric blenders and mixers, I’ve discovered that nothing compares to the functionality of a mandyara. Dishes like dal, sai bhaji, khichdi (rice with lentils, vegetables, and greens), and pav bhaji (mashed mixed vegetables in thick gravy) all turn out remarkably better.

The secret lies in the exceptional control a wooden churner provides, allowing you to achieve the exact consistency you want without pulverizing ingredients into a smooth puree—something that can easily happen with an immersion or countertop blender if you momentarily lose focus. This precision is crucial for dishes where you want the ingredients to blend while still retaining some texture; mushy lentils or mashed peas would lose their comforting mouthfeel otherwise. Of course, you can also use a mandyara to create a completely smooth puree or sauce, though it will require a bit of a forearm workout.

What I cherish most about the mandyara is that you can’t just leave it like you can with a blender. The very act of using both hands to patiently churn compels you to slow down and pay attention. As you stand over dal or khichdi, the dish’s consistency transforms as the ingredients meld together. Aromas are released as spices and condiments begin to merge. It’s almost therapeutic and entirely impossible with a blender.

The mandyara accomplishes its task in a way that is straightforward and entirely adequate, a lesson I'm gradually applying to all kitchen tasks. It has awakened in me a fresh appreciation for the art of cooking Indian cuisine, making me aware of the journey well before I arrive at the final dish. Monitoring a slow-cooking chicken curry or waiting for the fragrant aroma of cumin to fill my kitchen no longer feels like a burden.

Like many enduring kitchen tools, the perfect mandyara is both sturdy and budget-friendly. While you can find stainless steel versions nowadays, traditional mandyara churners were crafted from wood (my mother’s was likely made from sheesham, also known as Indian rosewood), which feels more satisfying in hand and moves more gracefully. Mandyaras are available in various sizes and shapes to accommodate all hands comfortably, ensuring there’s a model for every cook.

How to use a mandyara for mashing and churning

Whether you’re dealing with lentils, curry, or stew, begin with ingredients that are at least 90 percent cooked. You can still simmer the dish for a few minutes afterward, but most of the cooking should be completed before you start muddling and churning. The tool works best when the dish is hot, allowing the ingredients to blend more easily.

Ensure the base is centered in the pot and fully submerged in the dish, then roll the handle back and forth between your palms in a swift, continuous motion. Gradually move around the pot while rolling the handle until the ingredients are blended to your liking. Keep your movements small, allowing your forearms and wrists to do most of the work.

If it’s your first time using the mandyara, expect to make a bit of a mess around the pot; with practice, you'll find the right rhythm. It's best to place the pot on a stable surface or use a trivet for added support.

When you need to mash lentils and rice in dal khichdi, blend potatoes and carrots in pav bhaji, or press down on any ingredients that have settled at the edges of a stockpot, use the mandyara as a muddler. Hold the handle and apply gentle pressure as you move around the pot. Alternate between muddling and churning until you achieve your desired consistency.

To clean the mandyara, rinse it with warm water and soap. Use a cleaning brush with bristles capable of dislodging any food particles stuck in the corners. Pat it dry with a dish towel and allow it to air-dry completely before storing.

Where to purchase a mandyara or mathani

In India, you can easily find a mandyara at most stores that sell cookware and kitchen utensils. In the United States, look for it in shops specializing in Indian cooking tools, or you can order one online from platforms like Amazon or Etsy.

Natasha Amar is a writer, guidebook author, and photographer based in Dubai, focusing on travel, food, culture, mental health, lifestyle, and personalities. Her work has been featured in Lonely Planet, Afar, National Geographic Traveler UK, EatingWell, Whetstone Magazine, Marriott Bonvoy Traveler, Forbes Travel Guide, Waldorf Astoria Magazine, Departures, SilverKris, and other publications. Follow her on Instagram @thebohochica.