No partition on the plate

When British India was split into two in 1947, so were its kitchens. The partition wasn't merely a geopolitical rupture, but a cultural one. Families were torn apart, and with them, recipes, rituals, and regional flavours were scattered across newly drawn borders. In the midst of this massive displacement, food became a vessel of memory, a way to preserve identity when everything else felt lost.

- ADITHI REENA AJITH

At Qavalli in Delhi, owners of the establishment Dinesh and Pooja Arora are bringing those memories back to the table with their new menu, Rivayat-e-Hind. Drawing from heirloom family recipes, the menu revives flavours that once brought people together. "In a rapidly modernising world, these age-old recipes and techniques were at risk of being forgotten. We felt it was the right moment to revive them," say the Aroras.

The menu spans starters, mains, breads, and desserts—each dish selected for its story. "We travelled to towns and villages, documenting recipes and techniques that were at risk of being lost," they say. Their research included rare manuscripts, family heirlooms, and conversations with culinary custodians and historians across India. "Some were over a century old, detailing royal kitchens and regional specialties," says Dinesh Arora.