I don’t tend to be overly sensitive or usually get offended by impertinent and brazen remarks about my culture and country, especially benighted and unread ones. I am not jingoistic at all, and probably not the epitome of patriotism either. But Washington Post humour columnist Gene Weingarten’s remark on Indian food left me astonished. It was difficult to fathom that Weingarten, a humorist for one of the most liberal newspapers in the United States, seems as parochial as his hillbilly compatriots. To paint all Indian food with just one brush, is not just the stroke of an unschooled artist, it is downright prejudiced.
But what Weingarten has done is that he has set me thinking. Thinking, that we as a country need to do more to give currency to our own cuisine. After all, if we are proud of our cuisine, our parampara and our heritage, we must work hard at spreading the word. We need to do that by exploding just a couple of myths about Indian food.
First, Weingarten and the world need to realise that Indian food is not all hot and spicy. Weingarten says he feels like a vulture knocked off a meat wagon, when he eats Indian food. To him I’d say–desist being a vulture, because vultures are partial to rotting food and atrophied carcasses, I’m sure you have better taste. Having made that clear, let’s address Weingarten’s concern that all Indian food is ferociously hot and spicy. Anyone who knows anything about spices should know that spices are not hot. Spices endow taste and aroma and hence flavour. It is chillies that impart heat, and chillies can be adjusted or even omitted from most Indian recipes without altering their essence.
Second myth, all Indian food is a curry. That is absolute applesauce. Indian food can be sauteed, roasted, barbecued, lightly stir-fried, deep-fried, broiled, boiled and can be with or without a gravy. Most importantly, “curry powder” that many may think of as the omnipresent and primary ingredient of any Indian food is a British invention that nobody in India uses. We use an indigenous mix of spices called garam masala, which varies from household to household, district to district, region to region, and state to state in this country of 1.4 billion people and 3,287,263 square kilometres. It is unimaginable and highly unplausible that 1.4 billion people eat the same curry, cooked with the same curry powder day in and day out.
ALSO READ | What The Fork: Be it Biryani or Bibimbap, Rice and Meat is the Ultimate Comfort Food for Kunal Vijayakar
There is another myth about Indian food. That all Indian food is fatty and unhealthy. That is so far from the truth and an ignorant assumption. Oil is a choice, and you can make yours. Most Indian food can be cooked with as little as a spoonful of oil or ten. You can decide. Neither is all Indian food deep-fried, nor are our sauces and gravies made with refined flour or oil, unlike a Bechamel, Hollandaise, Velouté, or an Espagnole. For us Indians, the mother sauces are the ones our mothers make. As far as healthy goes, Indian food recipes are thousands of years old and are rooted in traditional wisdom. Wisdom about methods of cooking, preservation techniques, and the therapeutic effects of foods. The usage of ingredients like turmeric, ginger, garlic, and green chillies help with body healing chemicals, antioxidants, dietary fibre, and probiotics.
Not only has Indian food evolved over thousands of years, it has imbibed influences from various cultures and civilisations while still holding its own. It remains a delicate and intricate art, an art of blending spices and ingredients. The cuisine uses a wide range of fresh vegetables, fish and meat cooked in innumerable ways. And planning daily menus in methods have been handed down from generation to generation, making sure that an Indian plate includes carbohydrates, proteins, fats and fibre—in other words, a balanced meal.
And finally, I apologise for constantly referring to our food as Indian food. There is nothing called Indian food. It is impossible to categorise it as thus. Each region of India has its own distinctive cuisine often with nothing in common with the other, except maybe the use of spices.
Hence Weingarten, my dear friend, you must go beyond your version of a curry and try a fragrant biryani or a mild yakhni. The fluffy dhokla or a khandvi. A lightly steamed shorshe bhapa maach, or Mangalorean “moode” steamed in pandan leaves, or Khasi “Pumaloi”, Meghalaya’s famous steamed rice powder cakes. A Maharashtrian “sweet sheera” a Kerala “appam and mild stew”. Shall I go on?
I must pull back now, because I think my emotions are taking over and I am beginning to become borderline zealous and I honestly prefer my latitudinarian self. And in a liberal society everyone has the right to their opinion and so does Weingarten. Above all, Weingarten is a humourist and all humorists have the right to be candid and forthright, and I am not one to censure. But then a humorist also has that one all-important duty, without which he might as well shut his gab. He’s got to be funny. And I tried so hard to find humour in Weingarten’s statement on Indian food, I am still looking for it and I am open-minded enough to keep on looking for it till I find it. But till such time, I find Weingarten’s views on Indian food politically incorrect, sectarian and exclusive.
Kunal Vijayakar is a food writer based in Mumbai. He tweets @kunalvijayakar and can be followed on Instagram @kunalvijayakar. His YouTube channel is called Khaane Mein Kya Hai. The views expressed in this article are those of the author and do not represent the stand of this publication.
Read all the Latest News, Breaking News and Assembly Elections Live Updates here.
Comments
0 comment