Pushpesh Pant’s From the King’s Table to Street Food is a vibrant tribute to Delhi’s culinary landscape, where food becomes the language through which history, memory and culture are experienced. Pant, a renowned scholar and food historian, starts with the legendary city of Indraprastha, passes through the courts of the Sultanate and Mughal eras, travels into British India, and lands in the globalised capital we know today.
The roots of Indraprastha
Delhi’s culinary legacy begins with the ancient city of Indraprastha, referenced in the Mahabharata. Pant explores food in myth, noting how epic feasts reflect the era’s cultural richness. The ‘Banquet of Pandavas’ introduces readers to celebratory dishes made with saffron from Kashmir and bamboo shoots from Pragjyotisha (now Assam). Delhi’s history, Pant observes, is connected with food from as early as these ancient tales, which included foods gathered during exile, reminiscent of foraging traditions still seen in Indian villages. His scholarship brings alive Delhi’s mythic past, laying the groundwork for a food history that, even today, mixes humble ingredients with royal opulence.
Pushpesh Pant’s
From the King’s Table to Street Food,
Published by Speaking Tiger (2024)
Medieval confluence: Sultanate and Mughal Eras
Pushpesh Pant’s narrative also delves into the Sultanate and Mughal periods, tracing how trade, migration and culture influenced Delhi’s palate. As a historian, he places emphasis on the public kitchens and Sufi langars (communal kitchens) that served as social equalisers. With influences from Persian and Central Asian cuisines, the Mughal era gave birth to Delhi’s qormas, biryani, and richly spiced kebabs. Through figures like Ibn Battuta and Amir Khusrau, Pant unearths how dishes like the samosa traveled from distant lands, eventually becoming synonymous with Indian street food.
In this section, the author introduces readers to Mughaliya cuisine, distinct from the often-interchanged term Mughlai. While Mughaliya is rooted in the authentic royal flavours of the Mughal dastarkhan, Mughlai refers to the adaptations that evolved later, particularly under the British. The difference is subtle yet significant; Mughaliya represents authentic Mughal techniques, while Mughlai became a simplified version that melded with Punjabi and North Indian preferences.
The British Raj and beyond
The British introduced Delhi to new tastes and dining customs, adding elements like stews, cutlets and pies to the Indian table. He offers an engaging perspective on the cultural clash and culinary fusion of this era, detailing how mutton cutlets and Shepherd’s Pie became adapted to local tastes. However, the British weren’t the only influence. This era also saw the establishment of tea culture and bakery items like patties and pastries, which Pant recounts as a highlight of his childhood visits to Delhi’s famed Wenger’s bakery.
The story of Partition forms a bittersweet part of his narrative. With Partition came an influx of Punjabis, whose hearty cuisine would redefine Delhi’s culinary reputation. The butter chicken and dal makhani, that are Delhi icons today, originated with Punjabi migrants and soon captured the city’s collective palate. In another chapter, Pant reflects on the establishment of Pandara Road eateries, representing foods of those displaced by partition, Lahori, Peshawari and Pindi-style cuisine. This transformation is key to understanding how Delhi grew into a cosmopolitan food hub.
A culinary melting pot
Pant explains, how Delhi’s identity, extends beyond Punjabi and Mughal foods. The city’s population grew with migrants from across India, bringing with them the flavours of Bengal, Bihar, the Northeast, and South India. Each group contributed to the city’s diversity: Bengali puchkas and jhaalmuri at C.R. Park, South Indian idli-dosa tiffin centres, and spicy Andhra fare. Delhi, Pant asserts, is unique because of these regional confluences. From Calcutta-style chops to Naga curries and ‘Indian-Chinese’ Manchurian, Delhi’s food culture is inclusive and constantly evolving.
In Pant’s retelling, the South Indian tiffin culture brought by immigrants in the mid-20th century highlights the affordability and universal appeal of items like idli and dosa, which are today staples across the city. Similarly, the Parsi community brought to Delhi dishes like berry pulao and dhansak, still enjoyed by families at the Parsi Anjuman. Through these regional influences, Delhi has transformed into a culinary kaleidoscope, reflecting India’s diversity.
From dhabas to fine dining
From wayside dhabas to posh restaurants, Pant also tracks Delhi’s evolving dining scene, attributing much of the change to globalisation and a growing middle class. Pant observes that Delhi now claims to be a global food capital where one can find Japanese sushi, Thai noodles, Mediterranean falafel and Korean BBQ, mirroring the internationalisation of urban Indian food culture. However, the rustic dhabas with earthy flavours still retain their charm, with roadways to North India lined with stops famous for parathas, makki di roti, and sarson da saag.
The book’s chapters on modern Delhi trace how restaurant culture evolved with urban development, such as the rise of fine-dining establishments in neighbourhoods like the Asian Games Village. He explores how diplomatic enclaves, corporate parks, and upscale markets fostered a high-end restaurant culture. Author expertise reveals how Delhi’s food culture reflects its status as both India’s political capital and a culinary destination in its own right.
The essence of the ‘asli dilliwala’
For Pant, an asli Dilliwala is defined not only by a love for food but by an appreciation of Delhi’s diverse culinary traditions. This identity is woven into the food rituals of the Baniya, Kayastha and Punjabi communities, as well as the contributions of Bengalis, Kashmiris, Parsis and Christians. Pant’s fascination with Delhi’s cultural intersections lends warmth to his account. He highlights how dishes that originated in small community kitchens have become symbols of Delhi’s identity — chole bhature, papri chaat, parathas, and kebabs.
In one of the book’s most personal reflections, Pant shares nostalgic stories from his own past, painting a vivid picture of Delhi’s food scene in the 1960s. Memories of Sohan halwa, the Hanuman Mandir, and family visits to Wengers bakery bring to life the sensory pleasures that shaped his early experiences. Pant’s voice is both scholarly and sentimental, infusing historical facts with the charm of personal anecdotes.
Pant writes, “Dilli Haat, established in 1994 by Delhi Tourism, was first envisioned by Jaya Jaitley. It sought to bring craftspersons from all over India and provided space for eateries from different regions, to showcase the diversity of Indian cuisine. Bijoli Grill from Bengal had on its menu kosha mangsho, prawn cutlet, fish orly, aloo dom, Radhaballabhi; Awadhi Dastar Khwan offered galouti and kakori kebabs, shami and pulav; Kashmiri Wazwaan tempted walk-in guests with rishta, gushtaba, martswangan qorma, tsuk vangun, aloo bukhara qorma, and rogan josh. Rajasthan served pyaaz kachori, mirchi vada, ghewar, dal bati choorma. The Naga Kitchen had no qualms about mentioning pork and palate-scorching raja mirchi aka bhut jholakiya. A taste of Assam and Manipur introduced Delhi to other flavours from the North East. Peninsular India was represented by Tamil Nadu, and Anantam, that showcased delicacies from Kerala.”
The book is gives extra ordinary cultural insights, presenting Delhi not just as a city but as a melting pot of traditions, migrations, and flavours.
An evocative narrative for all tastes
Without burdening readers with academic jargon, Pant presents Delhi’s culinary history as an area woven with colourful threads of memory, culture and flavour.
The book’s pages brim with recipes, not as mere instructions, but as relics of eras and people. His scholarship is apparent, but it’s his love for Delhi, its spirit and its food, those shines through.
From the King’s Table to Street Food is not only a must-read for history buffs and food enthusiasts but also for anyone who wishes to understand Delhi from the inside out. It’s an experience that feels as satisfying as a hearty meal and as enlightening as a tour through time, making it a fitting homage to a city that, in Pant’s words, “never stops cooking up something new.”
Ashutosh Kumar Thakur is a Bengaluru-based management professional, curator and literary critic.
