Published in Placeres Magazine-January/February 2007

When it comes to Indian food, what the majority of the world considers as authentic, being most of the food served in restaurants is in essence Northern Indian cuisine; a meat-based cuisine passed down from the Mogul empire that invaded India in the 16th century. With them, the Moguls brought their rich, succulent carnivore dishes laden with cream, dried fruits, and nuts. However, what’s less known is that India, made up of some 30 states and territories is more diverse (or so they say) than all the European countries. Each one has its own history, culture, festivals, and obviously, gastronomy. The foreign influences in India have also been strong and varied from the Arabs, Turks, Moguls, British (their great contribution to cuisine were the chutneys and pickles), Portuguese, and French. All left their imprint in the regional cuisines, including the vegetarian fare which plays a fundamental role in the gastronomic identity of the Hindu communities in the north and south.

Born and raised a continent away from India, my personal connection with the country and its culture were via “virtual” culinary voyages that began in my childhood. I first dragged my parents to dine in Indian restaurants whenever possible to try the exotic flavors (a novelty in sleepy central Pennsylvania). Later in high school I made friends with Priya, whose parents were from Delhi. She would frequently invite me to eat at their home and on my dinner visits; her parents would literally bless me with their luscious food that exploded in my mouth, full of new flavors and sensations I never had tried before. Priya would scold her mother about “making that stuff again”, and would bellyache about preferring real “American” food like Burger King. In disbelief, I wondered how a mediocre hamburger could even compare to the freshly made puris with green chutney or the sour chickpeas that her mother was serving. I had died and gone to heaven. On one of my visits, her parents explained to me that for them as Hindus, food and the physical place of the kitchen were sacred; and that the role of food in Indians’ spiritual life was extremely important—everything was prepared with an eye looking towards God. It was an offering of their service to friends and family who shared that same food. Priya’s father got up from the table and walked to their cupboard. Opening it, I saw that there were printed images of gods and goddesses, a small statue of Ganesh, some incense and other ritual objects. “In many traditional families in India”, he said, “The chefs are trained as priests and hail from the Brahman class. Each morning they prepare the first food for the family—both for praying and eating.” I was fascinated. Eating was their temple.

Many years later, Indian food is still my favorite cuisine and one I make regularly at home; even more since moving to Chile where Indian food is still greatly unknown. A typical Indian dinner is an impressive assortment of curries made from meat, poultry, and seafood; tandooris (clay oven which gives the food its characteristic flavor); dhal (legumes such as orange lentils); breads like chapattis or naan and of course, basmati rice; all of these always accompanied by condiments such as chutneys, pickles and the refreshing raita (natural yogurt beat with grated cucumber). In general, although Indian food is heavily spiced and can be spicy (above all in the Southern regions), but it is also balanced and produces equilibrium in your mouth when the different flavors are eaten together: savory-spicy-delicious. The preparation of these classic dishes can be laborious and require a Buddha’s patience for the hours, or even days, required to infuse the different layers. These layers create its inherent complexity that comes together as “one” taste later. Much of Indian cuisine’s pungency comes from first frying the spices in ghee (clarified butter) or vegetable oil which release the spices’ aromas and essential oils while intensifying and concentrating the flavors. This first step is the base on which the entire dish is built, including the addition of meats, vegetables, and paneer cheese. Although it may take hours and much focus to let these dishes cook slowly and completely, when I step into the kitchen to make Indian food, the outside world falls away. I become totally engrossed in the aromas and textures; I focus solely on the sensations of chopping the vegetables; I concentrate only on measuring liquids and grinding spices methodically; I am utterly absorbed in the process and time, for a while, is transcended and actually stops. And then, boom, the dishes are almost ready and I began to see and smell the fruits of my labor. Despite usually standing and working for hours, I am almost never tired. Actually, after I finish cooking I feel relaxed, thankful, and looking forward to sharing the food with my guests who will arrive. In the cooking process, more than deep flavors are infused; positive energy and affection also get intertwined with the spices.

Reflecting now and remembering the word’s of Priya’s parents about the importance of food and the kitchen in Indian spirituality, I realize that the kitchen has also become my sacred place. My cooking sessions there truly are a form of meditation and connecting with myself and the divinity inside; that is, if the definition of meditation is to be present in the moment with your thoughts concentrated and mind void of extraneous ideas. The belief and capacity of the Indian culture to see the little “God” (or Goddess) inside each one of us and view food as an offering and act of that love is also beautiful, moving, and meaningful. There is an Indian saying, “atithi deva bhaav”, which means that when a guest enters your house, God enters with him. At least in my experience, this is the essence of Indian spirituality, their loving hospitality and their luscious food. So the next time you sit down to enjoy a home cooked Indian meal, remember there is more than spices and flavor imparted in your meal—there is also a lot of good vibes.