As I broke a piece of the thick makki di roti to dip it into the creamy, sarson da saag, my mouth watered at the sight of yellow getting smeared by green.
If you have ever eaten this delicacy, you’d know the explosion of taste on the palate! But we never thought about the origins of the food we eat today, do we? Or how eating out (or ordering in!) became a part of our DNA? Because before the 1947s, the culinary scene in Delhi was poles apart as compared to the current scenario.
The 1947 Indo-Pak partition marked a significant turning point in the culinary narrative of Delhi, Rajasthan, and Calcutta. In this article, we’d examine Delhi, as it was the city that experienced maximum ingress and egress, along with its dominating culture, getting watered down or overridden.
The partition led to the migration of millions of people between India and Pakistan, who brought with them their distinct culinary traditions. Western Punjab, a region that bore most of the brunt, played a pivotal role in reshaping the food narrative.
While Mughlai cuisine had long been the reigning monarch in the capital’s gastronomic realm, the mass migrations ushered in a new era, where the hearty flavours of Punjabi cuisine took centre stage. The influx of Punjabi migrants not only reshaped the demographics of Delhi, but also introduced a food revolution that subtly nudged delicately flavoured Mughlai delicacies into the background. Tomato-based curries took the people by storm.
Mughlai meals had a rich and decadent taste and used spices like cardamon, cinnamon, saffron, etc., and it had been an integral part of Delhi’s culinary identity. The nawabs of the Mughal era left an indelible mark on the city’s food culture with iconic dishes such as biryani, kebabs, and kormas. They strongly believed in the marination process. When the displaced locals from Pakistan migrated to India, they brought with them their food and tools.
Facing challenging times, they resorted to food that brought comfort to them, and was also a stable business idea–it became their source of survival. Their surge of vibrant tastes and traditions soon overshadowed the earlier Mughlai dominance, aided by a shorter time to churn out meals as they didn’t cook meals requiring marination or long-winding steps.
Punjabi cuisine, known for its bold spices, slow bhatthi cooking techniques, rich dairy ingredients like ghee, paneer, cream, and curd, and no-fuss but hearty preparations of vegetables and meat, resonated with the changing preferences of a rapidly evolving Delhi.
The tandoor, traditionally a Punjabi cooking equipment, became a symbol of this shift. New dishes, including the now-famous daal makhani, tandoori chicken, and seekh kebabs, captured the hearts and palates of the capital city. The smoky aroma of tandoor-cooked meats wafted through the air, replacing the fragrant spices of the Mughlai kitchens. Shops selling daal, parathas–stuffed or plain, along with pickles dotted many lanes.
Eating out before 1947 wasn’t popular, but with the dhabas mushrooming around Delhi, their unique range of food attracted a heavy footfall. The dhabas, or roadside eateries, provided affordable meals with good portion sizes, making them the de facto choices. With the quick turnover and fresh food, it became the lifeline for truckers who drove humans and goods back and forth across borders.
The revolution wasn’t limited to the main course or starters only, but even the desserts got a facelift. Mughlai sweets, popular for their exquisite craftsmanship and intricate flavours, faced stiff competition from the simplicity and mass appeal of Punjabi sweets. The rich textures and complex sweetness of desserts, such as shahi tukda and phirni, shared the spotlight with sweets like gajrela and jalebi.
The dessert culture itself underwent a shift, mirroring the changing demographics and preferences. With their vibrant displays of halwas, barfis, and laddoos, Punjabi sweets shops became integral parts of Delhi’s bustling markets.
Along with the dhabas and the desserts, the migrants also brought the street food culture to Delhi. With dishes like golgappas, chole bhatura, aloo tikki, etc. with a Punjabi twist were added to the menu. But it is not just the Punjabi food that made its mark on Indian cuisine. The Sindhis, too, brought in their culture of ‘evening snacking’.
Pre-partition snacks were limited to bhel puri, but as the Sindhi immigrants entered India, dishes like dal pakwaan, papad, and sai bhaji became famous. They introduced the Karachi and Bombay halwa as delectable desserts, too. The Punjabi samosa’s popularity has perhaps never waned, and still remains a top snack for the current generation. And as a result, chaat culture flourished and the stalls selling them made quick business.
Among the catalysts of this gastronomic revolution was the introduction of ‘Sanjha Chulla’, a communal kitchen concept that converted the way Delhiites dined. Sanjha Chulla, translating to ‘shared hearth’, encapsulated the essence of Punjabi hospitality. It was more than just a kitchen; it was a space where families came together to cook, share meals, and forge a sense of belonging.
For the migrants, this act brought them closer to each other in an unfamiliar place and helped them to heal. This concept, rooted in the spirit of community and inclusivity, played a pivotal role in shaping the prevalent food culture. The collective kitchens became melting pots of culinary creativity, where the exchange of recipes and cooking techniques led to the birth of dishes that would define food offerings for several generations to come.
So, next time you eat a Pindi chole or butter chicken, spare a thought for the recipe that’s probably migrated along with its humans.
Bon appetite.