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Feast for the mind A Matter of Taste:
The Penguin Book of Indian Writing on Food.
The editor herself has compared this venture to a buffet in a coffee shop where ‘continental’ classics and oriental exotica rubs shoulders routinely with desi delicacies. The writers represented include VS Naipaul, EM Forster and Salman Rushdie. All heavy weights, but their inclusion leaves one wondering whether the original idea to prepare an anthology of Indian writing on food has not been drastically altered. Writing on Indian food or about Indian Food stretches the scope in a confusing manner. There is also what can only be called too much of a good thing. There is more than one piece each from Rushdie (3), Sanghvi (2) and Busybee (2). Surely many other mouth-watering treats would have found place if the table had not been crowded with favoured delicacies. And, alas, the selection certainly is biased in favour of Indians writing in English. From RK Narayan to Mulk Raj Anand to David Davidar, all the icons, living legends and enfants terribles are there. Well, almost. Saadat Hasan Manto and Abdul Bismillah it seems have been accommodated for reasons of political correctness. Sharat, Bibhuti Bhushan Bandopadhyaya and Mahasveta Devi are all we have to be content with — just a whiff of what is brewing in ‘vernacular kitchens’. Yashpal’s magnum opus Jhootha Sach opens with a brilliant evocation of smells, sounds and anticipation of taste in pre-Partition Amritsar. The passage remains undiscovered by even so gifted an anthologist. The same fate is suffered by Phaneeshawar Nath Renu’s memorable short stories, which transport the reader to the deprived countryside in Purnea, where roasted sweet potatoes are a celebratory dish. One continues to be distracted by the seductive aromas wafting from the sambar in the Silver Anklet. A suitable extract is missing in this case also. One contribution that stands out and sparkles is Vir Sanghvi’s Bhelpuri, an effortlessly chiselled gem; Chitra Banerjee Divakaruni’s Secret of Spices appears to address itself primarily to an NRI readership and ‘westoxicated’ urban elite in the Indian metros. Jhumpa Lahiri’s Mrs Sen’s is also set in an expat milieu but succeeds brilliantly in finding the right delicate balance between Indianness, food and human condition. The overall effect is magical. Conceded that no anthology can be really comprehensive, but to overlook food-focused writing in haste to make room for reportage on drought is, to say the least, a bit odd. True, fasting and feasting are inseparable, but the juxtaposition here does feel forced. The titling of sections, too, does not indicate to the reader what lies in store. One is so grateful that
the good hostess has avoided the magisterial tone of the venerable KT
Achaya in his Indian Food: A Historical Companion. What remains
to be done, after enjoying this moveable feast, is to thank the editor
in the manner of traditional, famished guests: anna data sukhi bhava
(God bless the provider of food). |
Don’t let the title of
this delightful book lead you astray. Food is not just a matter of
taste. It is the very stuff of life. Writing about food can be
considered no less significant than any other intellectual exertion. As
this anthology so ably illustrates, even the most eminent writers
excelling in different genres are not inclined to embark on creative
quests without their gastronomic baggage. But why quibble? Nilanjana Roy
has a discerning taste both in food and literature and the spread she
has organised for the readers is tantalising.