Gaga Over Golgappa? The Cultural Roots of Women’s Soft Corner for Pani Puri

Why do women love golgappa so much? I know exactly what many readers must be thinking — What kind of rubbish question is this? Why drag gender into snacks? Men love pani puri too! Can’t we please enjoy our pani puri in peace?

As such, there is no doubt that men and women have equal reasons to find golgappe delectable. I myself survive on a solid monthly intake of the snack (with a particular soft corner for Bengali puchka).

However, taste is not only a matter of personal preference. Cultural norms also dictate our food cravings — what we should eat, how, and where. That way, golgappa consumption is not just a culinary issue; it also mirrors larger gender dynamics in society.

Do women actually enjoy golgappa more than men? Some evidence.

I have figures to back my claims. In 2022, I conducted a survey among more than 500 male and female adults in the city of Purnea, Bihar.

My research focused on the transformations of friendship in urbanising India. Food plays a big role here, since it is a powerful medium to connect people. My questionnaire thus included several questions on eating habits.

Unsurprisingly, the survey revealed that men consumed street food more often than women, reflecting a greater propensity and capacity to venture out.

But something else caught my attention. When I asked respondents what snacks they typically savoured in the streets, I found that women displayed a huge penchant for one particular item – you guessed it: golgappa. Seventy-five percent of them identified it as their favourite, compared to only 9% of men.

In contrast, male respondents reported far more varied preferences (litti chokha, samosa, etc.), with their top choice – tea – representing only 30% of the overall volume of answers.

To ensure these results were not a statistical aberration, I conducted an additional survey in Bhatta Bazar, Purnea’s historic marketplace, where I personally mapped the gender of clients from 139 street food stalls. Here again, I found that women were consistently more likely to be spotted at golgappa stalls than anywhere else.

Why does golgappa hold such outsized appeal among women?

These figures undoubtedly suggest that, in Purnea, women enjoy a special bond with pani puri. Now, of course, I do not have data for the rest of the country. Yet, a quick search on Google, Reddit or Quora reveals that scores of perplexed Indians have already wondered about women’s fondness for pani puri. The trend, therefore, does not seem limited to Purnea.

A screenshot from Google results.

Similarly, I ask: where does women’s passion for pani puri come from? I explore three possible explanations: biological factors, the nature of public spaces in Indian cities, and dominant views on femininity.

A group of women enjoy golgappa on the banks of Ganga. Photo: Hugo Ribadeau Dumas

Biological explanations: Are women programmed to like golgappa?

In Bihar, when I asked golgappa sellers and female customers the reasons behind golgappa’s popularity among women, most answered as if it was obvious: to them, it was clearly due to different taste buds, with women being naturally attracted to tangy and spicy flavours, as if it was written in their DNA.

For instance, Anuj Kumar, a 42-two-year-old golgappa vendor in Bhatta Bazar, told me with a knowing smile: “It’s the sourness (khatapan). Women love the sourness.”

To be fair, biologists have established that women, across the world, tend to feature tongues that perceive sourness with more intensity, following which they often enjoy sour food more than men, especially during particular hormonal periods. Research also suggests that women tolerate hot spices better than men.

However, biological explanations are not fully convincing. In reality, many other snacks offer similar gustative characteristics and yet do not enjoy the same craze. For instance, chaat (which, in Purnea, is made out of white peas) provides equal levels of sourness and hotness but was the favourite snack of only 11% of women.

Clearly, there is more at play than just flavour. To understand why golgappa prevails among women, we need to look beyond the kathori and explore the social and spatial conditions that influence its consumption.

A street scene in Patna, Bihar. Photo: Hugo Ribadeau Dumas

Men and women’s differentiated access to the city

Public spaces can be hostile to women. There is, of course, the very tangible risk of harassment. But not only. Constraints can also be more subtle, more insidious.

In a cultural environment that glorifies female domesticity, a woman’s time is expected to be spent at home, with the family. Being seen frolicking in public is met with social disapproval. An exemplary wife or daughter is not meant to squander her time in such frivolity.

As a result, women indulging in leisure in public are likely to face stares or remarks from passers-by, putting their respectability at risk. But these social norms are often internalised by women themselves.

Guilt, particularly, is a powerful of tool of social control. As Rupa Kumari (20) told me, “When I go out with my friends, my mother always says: come back quickly! If I take too long, I feel guilty. So I never spend too much time outside.”

Men are less burdened with such concerns. Body language speaks volumes. In tea shops, male customers take all their time, comfortably spreading their legs, striking adda with strangers, and finding all sorts of ways to make the moment last.

A tea shop in Sushant Singh Rajput chowk, Purnea. Photo: Hugo Ribadeau Dumas

Such slow pleasure is unthinkable for most women. In the survey, only 5% of tea shop clients were women. As Neha Devi (36) explained, “I never have chai at a tapri (tea stall), because people will think I am doing lafuabazi (lingering for no reason). They will ask: you can drink tea at home, what’s the need to do it outside?”

The same applies to the other snacks listed by male respondents in the survey, like samose, momos, littis or chowmein. While they can be consumed rapidly, they can also serve as a pretext to dawdle in the streets.

A sanskari snack? A good excuse to access the city

But golgappa is different. The unnatural combination of liquid pani and crispy puri makes it an absolutely unique gustatory experience. And it also means the dish has to be devoured right away before it gets soggy.

As a result, golgappa is a very quick affair – one plate gets cleared in a matter of minutes, and one can move away promptly. As Nilima Yadav (23) jokingly observed: “Do you know why golgappa is also called gupchup? Because you only have one job: stuff your mouth in silence (chup) and go back home!”.

It does not mean one cannot have fun while eating golgappa. On the contrary, it is perhaps the most playful street food India has to offer. But, once the plate is finished, there is no reason to loiter and prolong physical presence. No wonder women eating golgappa are often on their feet, poised for a swift exit.

Therefore, in a context of a deficit of legitimacy to navigate the public space, the advantage of golgappa is that it allows women to get a taste of the city while minimising time spent in the streets and exposure to social scrutiny. With golgappa, there is no lingering in, no afra-tafri. That way, it is probably the most sanskari snack one could think of.

In fact, beyond golgappa, women were more likely than men to choose street food joints with no sitting arrangements. In other words, it is likely women prioritise – consciously or not – street food items that are the quickest to consume and offer limited scope for loitering.

A “ladies’ snack”? The social acceptability of golgappa

Of course, speed and convenience alone do not explain everything. What makes golgappa all the more appealing is that it has become culturally associated with women, to the extent that it’s now seen as a “ladkiyon ki cheez (a girly thing)”, as a pani seller from Purnea put it.

In Hindi cinema, for instance, as film critic Sohini Chattopadhyay cheekily observed, female characters are rarely filmed eating food, but when they are, it is usually pani puri that is stuffed in their mouths.

Kareena Kapoor Khan and Kiara Advani in 'Good Newwz' (2019).

In Bihar, too, golgappa stalls typically feature posters of happily munching women, reinforcing the idea that this is an absolutely normal feminine activity – a bit like singing bhajans with neighbours or attending kitty parties.

A golgappa stall near Boring Road, Patna. Photo: Hugo Ribadeau Dumas

To be fair, this cultural framing often reeks of misogyny, with golgappa being presented as a frivolous, slightly silly snack. For instance, a street seller told me that “eating golgappa increases restlessness (chanchalta) and since women are fidgety (chanchal), they can’t help eating it.”

Still, the fact that the item is now associated with femininity in the collective psyche has the merit of making its consumption socially legitimate for women. And this participates in normalising female presence in the streets. (By contrast, it is likely that women eating chowmein would raise way more eyebrows!)

A matter of gender, but also of class

I acknowledge that the trends I describe in this piece may not resonate with all women from Delhi, Mumbai or other large metros.

The thing is, when you have enough resources, the stakes are not the same. If your house is large enough, you may get to chill at home with your friends. And, even better, if you can afford it, you may retreat into comfy cafés and AC restaurants. In other words, money buys the privilege to access privacy and avoid urban inconveniences.

For the well-off, therefore, golgappa is often nothing but a fun food to indulge in from time to time. But, for women who do not have the luxury to access fancy consumerist spaces, golgappa often represents a perfect excuse to roam around – albeit hurriedly.

How society shapes taste

In the end, there is not one single factor that explains the popularity of golgappa among women, in Bihar and beyond.

But what stands out from my research is that food preferences are not purely individual– they are shaped by social conditions, power structures, and cultural norms. In this context, golgappa is more than just a snack – it is a symbol of the delicate bargains women must strike with patriarchy and urban spaces.

You may not fully agree with me. But if the next time you gobble a golgappa you pause to think about who gets to enjoy the city, then my piece will have done its job.

Hugo Ribadeau Dumas is a PhD in urban geography. He studies the transformation of friendship in urbanising India.  

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