Chefs Thomas Zacharias, Saby and Radhika Khandelwal go back to the forest to create a new Indian platter

That chef was Thomas Zacharias, formerly of Bombay Canteen and now founder of the Locavore project that is reviving India’s forest and local produce. The first Indian guest chef at the event, he also highlighted how the food of forest-dependent communities was climate-resilient, sustainable and had a bouquet of flavours worthy of any gourmand. “Guests found novelty in Kerala’s herbal drink Pathimugam, made with sappan wood, and the thoran with wild greens and coconut. I used wild garlic leaves, nettle, chickweed, sorrel and dandelion greens. Who said you couldn’t do a multi-course meal with what the forest has to offer, or that hunter-gatherer foods are not for the modern palate?” he says.

Gorai’s smoked Bandel cheese, Kalimpong cheese with nolen gur drizzle and kasundi

Zacharias is one of the pioneers of the indigenous food movement that’s challenging the predominance of north Indian curries and the South Indian dosa as representative of Indian cuisine in the global food map. “This food is born of generational wisdom,” says the chef, who is documenting tribal cuisine and presenting it with an innovative spin. He’s won round one in his quest to educate the West about India’s culinary history. What we call nouvelle cuisine today may actually have been distilled from India’s indigenous cooking traditions — light, fresh and easy.

Shuttling between food consultancies across the globe, chef Sabyasachi Gorai has been stealing time to research the food of Mohenjo-daro and Harappan civilisations. “Everybody talks about Mediterranean food as the most balanced diet. But fact is food was a tasty medicine 4,500 years ago. There was a predominance of forest produce and our predecessors cooked over fire as evidenced by coal and dung pits. Clay pots in different shapes and sizes are evidence that most of the cooking was done by boiling water, submerging food items and bubbling them over. Very small oil diffusers have been found, indicating minimal use of oil. Frying was on the top layer of oil, not at the bottom of the vessel. People used ginger and turmeric and aromatic herbs for flavouring. The biggest holdback for Indian cuisine has been the excessive use of spices and yet we had a tradition of fine herbs,” he says.

Thomas Zacharias’ thoran with wild greens and coconut

The complexity of Indian cuisine, feels Gorai, got homogenised globally with what he calls the “curryhouse” phenomenon. “These outlets stereotyped Indian cuisine across the globe. They would have curries in three colours —red/brown, green and cream — with various toppings of meat or paneer, kaali dal, dosa, idli, vada, samosa, parotta, naan and breads. Their first generation owners primarily looked at their kitchens as sources of livelihood. They had no qualified cooks and would often use students as kitchen hands. This reductionist approach killed the diversity of Indian cuisine. Besides, Indian settlers came much later compared to the Chinese and Japanese, who settled in foreign shores even before World War I, so they had time to expand their cuisine,” he explains.

Chef Radhika Khandelwal, who recently did a pop-up with diplomats at her restaurant, Fig and Maple, in Delhi, is on a mission to revive indigenous produce. “Many ambassadors loved the laal maas I made with sabudana risotto and noted how it had a better smoothness than the butter chicken they were used to. I had tossed up a salad using jamun dressing with phalsa or sherbet berry, momos with a faux caviar made out of Himalayan raspberry. One of the diplomats actually mistook the hummus I made from smoked gourd (a cooking ritual of Madhya Pradesh) as avocado,” she recounts.

In fact, Khandelwal is cooking familiar food with heritage herbs and spices, cooking mutton with leaves of the roselle plant instead of spinach, for instance. “Very few know about Ladakh’s skyu, which is a pasta-like dish, a soupy broth with wholewheat ringlets, local vegetables or meat. And at a time when fermented foods are trending, we have hardly tapped into our heritage. The Northeast has around 278 ferments, which have been used for hundreds of years. We know miso but nobody uses axone, the soybean ferment from Nagaland. Manipur has a variety of sticky rice and there are different tomatoes in southern parts of India that are tarty and tangy. Yet we almost always look for their Mexican or Western counterparts,” says Khandelwal.

Khandelwal’s momos with sesame, gundruk (pickled leafy vegetables) and kaphal pearls

These new chefs are encouraging us to look within before seeking Western validation. “Food must have a story… I choose ingredients that showcase our rich diversity and are climate-resilient,” says Zacharias. Gorai calls for dismantling the definition of regional cuisine. “Everything is Indian cuisine. That’s how you will shift the balance from stereotypes,” he says. Khandelwal is doing away with boilerplate menus and introducing her guests to our indigenous heritage through pop-ups and promotions. “When people get comfortable, half the battle is won,” she says.