The Word That Never Existed
Step into a restaurant overseas, and “curry” spreads across the menu like a catch-all term—yellow, hot recognizable. But in India, the word means nothing. Ask a chef for curry, and you’ll see puzzlement. Which one?
Listen to our curry episode: here!
“Curry” has its roots in colonial misunderstanding. Portuguese explorers saw many stews, gravies, and spice blends but lumped them under one name. The British turned this into a tool of empire—creating bottled powders and standard sauces that simplified flavors to suit foreign tastes. Even now, Westerners often mistake a broad category for a single type of cuisine.
In the kitchens of London and New York restaurants menus boast “Indian curry,” but the reality is more complex. Bangladeshi cooks use Pakistani recipes to meet British expectations. Restaurants trade true flavors for a uniform experience. This creates a cycle where every dish has the same yellow color and evokes memories rather than showcasing subtle taste differences.
What Curry Means
A Method, Not a Meal
India doesn’t have a single dish called curry. Instead, it boasts gravies, dals, rasams, kormas, bhunas, and saags—each tied to specific regions and seasons. The common thread? Technique: oil first spices second, and always patience.
Cumin seeds sizzle in ghee. Mustard sounds like gunshots. Turmeric turns the pan golden. Onions turn brown, tomatoes break down, and the kitchen fills with warmth and nostalgia.
Curry isn’t a dish; it’s a way of cooking. A living cooking method—complex, fragrant, and unique to each person.
Spice Isn’t Heat
Many outsiders mistake spice for heat. But Indian cooking creates warmth, not pain. Coriander adds citrus notes. Fennel cools. Clove sharpens. Fenugreek brings bitterness. Real traditional cooking balances flavors, not bravado.
A skilled cook knows when to be bold and when to be subtle. That’s the craft.
Colonialism and Confusion
A Word That Spread Too Far
As empires grew, curry became their messenger. In Japan, it changed into a dark sweet stew. In Thailand, it mixed with coconut and lemongrass. In the Caribbean, it met goat and scotch bonnet.
Each culture claimed it, changed it, and created something new. But the word brought problems—a colonial shortcut that simplified complex ideas for convenience.
You can still buy “curry powder” in jars at supermarkets: dull mixes of old turmeric and pepper. But in India, spice blends differ from home to home dish to dish—toasted, ground, and combined with purpose.
India’s True Tale
A Land of Many Cuisines
India isn’t one big thing. It’s a continent of kitchens.
- In Tamil Nadu, sauces shine with tamarind and curry leaves.
- In Punjab, smoke rises from clarified butter and clay ovens.
- Bengal buzzes with mustard oil and river fish.
- Kashmir cooks lamb with saffron and yogurt.
Each area speaks a unique taste language. Twenty-two languages. Twenty-eight states. A thousand ways to define comfort. None use the term curry.
H3: Vegetarian Plenty
Though global menus often feature meat most Indian tables rely on plants. Lentils cooked to silky smoothness. Chickpeas boiled with cumin and garlic. Eggplants baked until they turn smoky and sweet.
Vegetarianism here isn’t about lack—it’s a way of thinking. It shows that richness doesn’t need meat just creativity.
Chef Thinking — Change Without Forgetting
Chef Furqan Meerza views authenticity as a way to remember, not a rigid set of rules. Dishes change, but their essence should live on.
When cooking abroad, chefs adjust to the ingredients they can find. They use coconut milk instead of cream. They cook on electric stoves rather than clay tandoors. Still, they hold certain principles as sacred:
- Release spices’ essence by heating them in oil.
- Create flavor step by step.
- Allow time, not quick fixes, to guide the process.
The cooking tip is straightforward: think of curry like jazz—it follows a structure but thrives on improvisation.
The British Legacy
In Britain, curry became money. At first a colonial oddity, it changed into comfort food. Rich people ate mild kormas; later, immigrants from Bangladesh gave factory workers spicy balti.
Now, curry restaurants are next to pubs and takeaways offering a mixed cuisine—part tradition, part creation. Fancy stars now shine over new places like Dishoom and Benares where cooks make the known dishes better.
What can we learn? Food lasts through opposites. Changing doesn’t remove roots—it shows toughness.
Cooking Methods That Make Curry Special
Real curry is made step by step, not just poured.
- Tadka (tempering): Spices go in hot oil first, to release their smell.
- Masala layering: Cooks brown onions, ginger, garlic, and tomatoes taking their time.
- Dum cooking: This method involves slow steaming to capture smoke and richness.
- Dungar: Chefs use charcoal to give a final hint of smokiness.
In kitchens across Delhi or Lucknow, cooks perform this routine every day. It’s a blend of smells, noises, and warmth. The outcome: sauces that seem alive and full of flavor.
Food Literacy — Looking Deeper Than the Recipe
To grasp curry, you need to taste its past. Each part has a tale to tell:
- Turmeric, which kills germs and holds religious value.
- Black cardamom, which gets its smoke from Himalayan breezes.
- Tamarind as sour as a monsoon memory.
Food literacy means knowing how to tell the difference between appropriation and adaptation, between curiosity and caricature.
To eat with awareness is to respect the people who created the meal, not just the person who eats it.
The Modern Reckoning
Chefs like Gaggan Anand turn curry into a concept—they serve it as single bites capturing memories in sauce. They remove clichés leaving the essence.
Museums in India now collect and store regional utensils, recipes, and spoken histories, saving what globalization might erase. The future of curry doesn’t lie in changing it, but in remembering it.
This shows restaurant insight at work: identity stays alive through storytelling.
Top Spots for Food Lovers in Search of Authenticity
To experience genuine flavors, avoid chain restaurants. Look for homes, markets, and kitchens that cook traditional recipes.
- Hyderabad: To taste biryani scented with saffron and smoke.
- Chennai: To savor tangy sambar and crispy dosa.
- Lucknow: To enjoy kormas cooked in copper pots.
- Kolkata: To try mustard fish and sweet-spiced curries.
- London & Singapore: To discover diaspora chefs combining cultures through memory and creativity.
These places offer the best experiences for food lovers who value authenticity over appearance, and substance over style.
The Final Spoonful
Curry isn’t just a dish. It’s a chat—among regions, histories, and hands. It’s a technique influenced by people moving reflecting how they survived and adapted.
If you label it as one thing, you’ve got it all wrong. When you taste it with an open mind, you start to grasp the world better.
Pot Luck Food Talks
Pot Luck Food Talks is a global podcast exploring the crossroads of food, culture, and creativity — hosted by chefs, storytellers, and curious eaters from around the world.
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