The journey of food

Puneetinder Kaur Sidhu

The Golden Peaches of Samarkand by Edward H. Schafer, Professor of Oriental Languages at University of California, is a book about the exotica, formally presented to or imported by an aspiring Tang empire during the three centuries of its rule from seventh to 10th century.

Ivory, rare woods, diamonds, drugs, fruits — all forged their way into the Chinese courts at Ch’ang-an in the form of gifts or purchases. These went on to influence Chinese life to such an extent that no one can say anymore these were ever imports. Similarly, and pre-dating the Tangs by many millennia, a tiny spice from southern India had been making its way to Egypt since the time of the Pharaohs. Its preservative properties had long necessitated the pungent peppercorn’s presence in burial chambers. The earliest material evidence of this harks back to a 15th century BC wall relief in Thebes, inside the funerary monument of Queen Hatshepsut. A couple of centuries later, the same fragrant spice was packed into the royal nostrils of Ramses II to retain the patrician shape of his nose before mummification.

The Romans were equally besotted with pepper; raison d’etre for the thriving maritime trade between Red Sea ports and those of Tamilakam — as peninsular India was then called — during the Ptolemic-Roman period (third century BC to sixth century CE). Back in Rome, even as Pliny the Elder was lamenting the depletion of gold and silver reserves in exchange for the impossibly high demand, and cost, of pepper, Chola, Chera and Pandya rulers were laughing all the way to royal treasuries in its place of origin. Excavations in the 1990s in Berenike, a once vital transit port just off the western coast of Egypt, led to the discovery of many kilograms of the spice stacked in a storage container. It had probably been awaiting its carriage across the desert for the journey up the Nile and to the Mediterranean Sea while bound for Rome. Recent digs along the Spice Route in Kerala have also indicated a flourishing maritime trade with Ionians (Yavanas) during the Sangam era, largely believed to be India’s classical period.

Regardless of the whens, wheres, whys, and hows, the unshakeable reality is that cultural influence, of which culinary ethos is an interlinked part, has travelled back and forth and across the globe ever since man discovered not just his inherently itinerant nature, but also his desire to feel at home abroad. An obvious example of this journey is the food imbibed in these parts. The land has been blessed with not just agricultural bounty since the Indus Valley Civilisation, but also with a vast network of trade routes that have facilitated an ‘invasion’ of ingredients, plants, cooking techniques, and dishes from Afghanistan, Persia, Central Asia, Europe and China. It should come as no surprise, therefore, that the culinary assimilation is well and truly deep-rooted. So much so that calling out the samosa or halwa or kebab as a foreigner will, in all likelihood, be met with disparagement instead of disbelief. As would a similar declaration citing potatoes, tomatoes and chillies as Portuguese imports. Among an inexhaustible list, apples, litchis, pomegranates, and yes, those golden peaches have all travelled long and far and across centuries to be called our own. Of all ‘Made in China’ products that now flood our markets, our ‘national’ beverage, tea, was perhaps the earliest we endorsed.

Much in the same way, the tikka masala, one of United Kingdom’s most popular snacks since the 1960s, has its origins in the kitchens of the Indian, more specifically Punjabi, diaspora. Indeed, given the large Punjabi footprint around the world, Punjabi food has increasingly, and somewhat inaccurately, come to represent the Indian cuisine as a whole. Given also that there is no common gastronomic culture, other than the unconscious application of ayurvedic philosophies passed on generationally, this belief metes out a huge disservice to India’s diverse and distinct regional cuisine. To an extent, the recently concluded World Heritage Cuisine Summit at Qila Gobindgarh in Amritsar, endeavoured, and managed to bust this myth for culinary professionals from around the world. 

Chefs from more than 40 nations, all of whom had converged in the culinary capital of Punjab to showcase and promote their ethnic cuisine, were, in turn, introduced to the mindboggling diversity that is regional Indian cuisine. The delicacies from nearly 20 different states included kachhi haldi ka halwa from Haryana, bichhu butti ke sidoo from Himachal Pradesh, Nagaland’s smoked pork with Anishi and litti chokha from Bihar. Thanks primarily to the presence of some of Amritsar’s famed street food vendors at the summit, overseas visitors also got a chance to discover Punjabi cuisine beyond the omnipresent butter chicken! Stuffed kulchas with cholas, roasted mutton, fried fish and grilled chicken, in particular, caught the fancy of foreign tastebuds. One is in no doubt that they will have travelled back to their home countries with as many indelible memories of Indian food and hospitality as Indian chefs would have of global cuisine. Adding, one fervently hopes, a whole new dimension to the existing history of culinary travel trends. Some traditional dishes from around the world that found their way to Amritsar for the summit are:

Fisinjan Shakh Plov (Azerbaijan): Served on special occasions, it comes in more than a dozen varieties; this as the name suggests is the King of Pilafs.

Pollo Alla Cacciatora (Italy): A hunter’s favourite, it requires just three basic ingredients to become a complete meal: chicken, garlic, rosemary.  

Soto Ayam (Indonesia): This Indonesian classic spells comfort food across the archipelago turmeric-infused chicken soup with noodles. 

Dalmatian Seafood Risotto (Croatia): Heavily influenced by Italy, just across the Adriatic Sea from here, this is one of most popular Croatian dishes and gets its near black colour from sepia ink from cuttlefish. 

Biche de Pescado (Ecuador): Fish, peanuts, plantains, corn and cassava are what make up this heart dish from the coastal Manabi province.