Made the slow way.
Titaura isn't a new idea. It has been made in kitchens across Nepal, Sikkim, Darjeeling and Kalimpong for as long as anyone remembers — fruit, sun, salt, chilli, time. What has been missing is a version you can actually buy that tastes like the one someone's grandmother made.
Doing one thing properly is harder than it sounds
Twaka started because of a shortage. Every winter a parcel would arrive from Kalimpong with a bag of homemade titaura in it, and every year it ran out by February. The stuff on shop shelves wasn't the same — too sweet, too soft, and usually with a preservative list longer than the ingredient list.
So we spent a year on one recipe. Fifteen plum varieties, four chillies, three kinds of jaggery, and an unreasonable number of arguments about salt. Batch 07 is where we landed, and we haven't changed it since.
We'll add a second product eventually. Not before this one is perfect.
The unglamorous parts
Most of what makes a food business good happens before anyone tastes anything.
Paid at the orchard, in cash, on the day
We buy direct from eleven smallholder families. No aggregator, no ninety-day terms.
FSSAI-licensed, audited twice a year
Lic. 10024061000000. Every batch is lot-coded so any pouch can be traced back to its week.
Food-grade, and we're working on the rest
The pouch is currently a multilayer laminate — the only thing that keeps moisture out at this scale. We're trialling a compostable alternative for batch 09.
Stones and skins go back to the orchards
Composted on site and returned to the growers we bought the fruit from.
Taste it and tell us we're wrong
100 g pouch, ₹299, shipped anywhere in India.
Shop Plumberry Titaura