To borrow from the country’s own advertising campaign, a visit to India is an incredible experience. I was on a three-and-a-half week culinary tour and my favorite image has nothing to do with food. Driving down the new superhighway (four lanes, divided) en route to Jaipur, I’m startled to see a flotilla of cart-pulling camels sailing down the opposite side of the road, noble heads erect, brilliant buck teeth leading the way.

India is known as a country of contrasts, the most obvious being
extraordinary wealth juxtaposed against horrifying poverty and deprivation. The day after my arrival I was invited to a luxurious 23rd-storey apartment in Mumbai for a splendid Sunday brunch. The floor-to-ceiling windows offered a multi-million dollar view of the Arabian Sea. But in quintessentially Indian fashion, this vista was punctuated by the corrugated roofs of a makeshift town and the residents’ laundry spread out on the rocky shoreline to dry. Even the most elegant sophisticates live side by side with life at its most basic. Chauffer-driven cars are the norm for people of any means, but looking out the window as the world passes by, one will inevitably see a man relieving himself at the side of the road. If navigating camels are my favorite image of India, the most common was the back of a male figure, availing himself of an open-air loo.

Still, I loved the country, which among its many assets, has a rich and dramatic history. Exploring India’s gastronomic heritage was the focus of my trip, which officially began in New Delhi. We were a group of ten, including our leader, esteemed cookbook author and teacher of Indian cooking, Suneeta Vaswani. The evening before the tour officially began, four of us, following Suneeta’s advice, headed out to try dum pukth cusine at the city’s Maurya Sheraton. In India, many of the country’s finest restaurants are located in hotels and this particular establishment has two of the best: Dum Pukht and Bukhara.

As the author of slow cooker cookbooks, I was particularly keen to sample dum pukt cooking, which originated in the sixteenth century and reflects India’s Mughal heritage. Basically, it’s an Indian form of braising. The food is cooked in a clay pot and sealed with a flour and water paste. The results represent the best of slow cooking –highly seasoned vegetables and aromatic, melt-in-your-mouth meat. Our chicken dish was billed as “resplendent” –like much of Indian culture, a bit over the top but a not entirely inaccurate description.
The same hotel also houses Bukhara, considered by some to be one of the finest Indian restaurants in the world. (While there is no doubt the food is delicious, having eaten my way from north to south, I could easily compile a list of potential rivals.) Its style of cooking is at the opposite end of the spectrum from Dum Pukht. Most of the food is grilled or baked in a high-heat tandoor oven and represents the height of north Indian cuisine. There is an abundance of highly seasoned meat. (At another location we had a cooking demonstration of tandoori lamb kebabs and the spicing consisted of garam masala powder, Kashmiri chile, green chillies and red chile paste, among other ingredients.) It’s not unlikely that saffron, which is grown in Kashmir, will also contribute to the flavor. Bukhara’s leg of lamb, braised in what appeared to be a thick tomato-onion sauce, is legendary and particularly succulent. Here naan, which crossed the border from Afghanistan, is a natural accompaniment. Like most North Americans, I considered naan to be an “Indian” bread. In fact, it is an import that has taken hold in some parts of India, particularly in the northern regions.

Suneeta was a wonderful guide, who always went the extra mile to ensure we understood what we were eating and its place in the regional continuum. Her Complete Book of Indian Cooking: 250 Recipes from the Regions of India, explores many of these differences, some of which we could see for ourselves at the cooking demonstrations she organized for us. To oversimplify, in very general terms, as you move from north to south, the emphasis shifts from meat and whole grain breads to fish, seafood, coconut and rice.

As the author of a whole grains cookbook, the prevalence and variety of whole grain breads in the northern parts of country surprised and interested me. Chappati, which is made from whole wheat flour, is the only Indian bread I’ve ever made but in India there are many other whole grain options, which often include the addition of a pulse, such as dal. In some locations, there is an interesting griddle corn bread, made from something closely resembling yellow grits. In season, this is served with sautéed mustard greens, a delicious combination I first sampled in Jaipur. Roti is made from a combination of whole wheat and chickpea flour and moongri is made from millet flour and partially cooked yellow mung beans and rice. In the south, the breads are often made from rice flour and lightly leavened with toddy, the mildly fermented sap of the coconut palm. At one demonstration I even watched dough, leavened solely by the enzymes in raw milk, rising before my eyes.

In most of India cows are sacred, so they and their products are somewhat ubiquitous. The pervasiveness of delicious home-made yogurt is one result. For me it was a wonderful treat. Virtually every meal included raita, the yogurt-based condiment that is consumed to balance the heat in incendiary chile-rich dishes. But I was surprised to discover the prevalence of yogurt at the breakfast buffets that launched our mornings. Fruit flavored (the mango version was particularly luscious) or plain with honey was the norm but sometimes we’d be offered baked yogurt, a particularly mouthwatering treat, made from water buffalo milk. Lassi, the seasoned yogurt drink, served either salty, or sweetened and mixed with fruit puree, was also widely available. It makes a very refreshing and nutritious snack.
No culinary trip would be complete without at least one new food experience. For me, that was the dosa, a thin crepe-like pancake made from a slightly fermented rice and lentil batter, which I first tasted in Mumbai. Although the dosa originated in the South, it is now available throughout India and it soon became one of my breakfast favorites. I quickly developed an affinity for the potato filling, which resembles the one used in vegetable samosas. Dosas are usually served with a selection of chutneys, including a particularly luscious coconut version.

Since my return, a number of people have asked me to define the highlight of the trip. It’s difficult to choose a single place or event because there were so many wonderful experiences and each was distinctive. However, I was surprised by the difference between the North where the cities are crowded and the poverty is blatant (the stereotypical image of India) and the Southern state of Kerala, the location of the legendary Malabar coast. Kerala is still the heart of India’s spice trade. It is here that tellicherry pepper, reputed to be the world’s best, is grown. We visited a large pepper plantation and watched the plants being picked by men who climbed the stalks using bamboo ladders, which looked very precarious. In addition to pepper, there are tea plantations and mixed farms growing a variety of spices such as cardamom, cinnamon and cloves. Except for Cochin, its major city, the state is quite rural. It has a high literacy rate (around 93%) and is relatively clean and uncrowded.

Kerala is known for its lush mountains and seemingly endless backwaters, which at certain times of the year are chockablock with water hyacinths (pretty, but a transportation menace.) From a base in Kumarakom, a resort area on the edge of Vembanad Lake, we visited Philipkutty’s farm, a small island of land reclaimed from the backwaters, where the family operates an organic farm that produces coconuts, bananas and spices, such as nutmeg and vanilla. I was fascinated to watch the vanilla pods being hand-pollinated and enjoyed the cooking demonstration by the women of the family, Anu and her mother-in-law Aniamma. The lavish lunch represented the best of Keralan cuisine.

An overnight trip by houseboat is one of the best ways to explore the Keralan backwaters. Comfortably ensconced on deck, while the world drifted by at a languid pace, we soon became attuned to the slow moving rhythms of village life. As the sun began to set, we cracked open a bottle of Blue Ribbon, the local gin. (A great discovery –very cheap but mild and smooth according to the connoisseur among us, who drank his neat.) By the second gin and tonic, tranquility set in. That night we dined under a night sky bursting with stars. Rising in the morning and watching the sunrise over the lagoon-like waters was equally enchanting.

While every place we visited offered unique experiences, if
I had to pick one city as a favorite it would be Kochi (formerly known as Cochin) the historical center of the spice trade. The old city has the slightly seedy charm of an ancient hub, its shoreline framed by the romantic vision of Chinese fishing nets, dreamily rising and falling into the sea. These romantically vaulted wood and bamboo structures were supposedly introduced to the area by Chinese fishermen in the 14th century and are still in use. Fishermen sell some of their catch along the beach.

Cochin is home to a significant population of Syrian Christians who trace their lineage back to the beginnings of Christianity when St. Thomas, one of the apostles, arrived in the area. The Christian presence in Kerala was strengthened in the fifth and sixth centuries with the exodus of Syrian Christians from the Middle East. Nimmy Paul, a member of this community, is a cooking instructor who conducts classes focusing on Syrian Christian cuisine in her home. For the most part the dishes intersect with Keralan cuisine: Fish cooked in spice paste, stir-fried okra and an abundance of curry leaves, which are ubiquitous in southern India. Nimmy has a good eye for tableware and cooks and serves some dishes in traditional earthenware pots, which inspired “dish lust” among several members of our group.

I could continue, but I think this captures some key features of the trip. I strongly believe that anyone who loves food and exploring the history and culture surrounding it would enjoy India. Food is a universal language and a culinary tour is the closest an outsider is likely to come to experiencing the country like a native.

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