Green grandeur

Lucknow's vegetarian cuisine, the lesser-known cousin of its non-vegetarian counterpart, holds its own in art and experimentation

- PUJA AWASTHI

In history's banquet hall, scholars speak of 'recency bias'—a hunger that feeds only on the freshest flavours of memory. But in the grand kitchen of culinary heritage, such selective feeding serves up recipes missing key spices, starved of depth. As Lucknow now stirs its great cauldron in a bid to secure the UNESCO tag of 'City of Gastronomical Delights,' it's time to serve a truer, fuller feast.

This conversation has simmered on my back burner for years. As a vegetarian from the city, I'm used to faces that turn sour followed by some variation of: 'But what do you even eat there?'

If your idea of Awadhi cuisine starts and ends with kebabs and biryani (the authentic Awadhi rice dish though is pulao), your culinary vocabulary is bland at best.

This meat-marinated identity covers only one stretch of Awadh's layered history, starting from the Mughal reign in 1555 followed by the Nawabs in 1772. It completely swallows the sixth century might of the Kosala empire with its Muni, Jain and Buddhist influences, and later the legacy of the Taluqdars (landed elites), both Hindu and Muslim, whose impact remained significant until the British annexation.

The region's food was shaped by geography—infinite possibilities sprouting from the rich soil of the Indo-Gangetic plain, seasoned by local ingenuity, and layered with Mughal and Persian influence.

While refinement under the Nawabs elevated the dastarkhwan (tablecloth on which meals were laid out), the region's food was never just a palate pleaser. Arranged for flavour and pleasure, it was also a pharmacy—the chemistry of guna, virya or taseer ensuring every ingredient was considered for its cooling or heating influence, and its impact on metabolism.