Dressed to grill

From a shredded shirt bread to a fur-coated salad, we trace the rich global tradition of naming dishes after garments

- Raul Dias

I’ve often seen the relationship between food and fashion as a highly metaphorical one. Where trends, seasonal shifts, and the art of bespoke presentation link the two.

But in some culinary corners of the world, the connection becomes quite literal. Over my travels around the world, I found scores of dishes that borrow their names from garments or textiles. Often forming a curious subculture of cuisine, revealing not just linguistic quirks but also deep-rooted cultural storytelling.

Take Ropa vieja, for instance. This one is a quintessential Cuban comfort dish whose name translates to ‘old clothes’. When the plate arrives—a mélange of shredded beef stewed in tomatoes, onions, and peppers—it’s clear how the dish acquired its title. The strands of beef resemble torn fabric, evocative of threadbare garments. Its origins are believed to trace back to a Spanish or Cuban folktale in which a destitute man, desperate to feed his family, stews his clothing. The story, whether apocryphal or not, highlights the ingenuity of transforming humble ingredients into deeply satisfying fare.

In Trinidad, I found a beloved culinary staple goes by the name Buss-up shut, a colloquial adaptation of ‘burst-up shirt’. This refers to the flaky, torn appearance of this particular style of paratha, which is hand-crushed after cooking to achieve its signature layered texture. Traditionally served with rich curries and stews, this dish reflects a Caribbean culture that marries linguistic playfulness with culinary pride. The British Isles, never far from a dose of dark humour, offer