What's the difference between a restaurant that claims to serve Afghan food and anything they eat in Afghanistan? Nasreen Qureshi can tell you in elaborate detail. She arrived in Mumbai six months ago seeking treatment for her father's throat cancer. She found it hard to stomach the food served at Mumbai's many variants of 'Kabul' and 'Afghan' eateries. "It's basically Indian Mughlai food with less spices," complains the 42-year-old, who is soon to return to her native country. "The food is just not what it claims to be."
Clearly, this is not food from home for the many fleeing — temporarily or permanently — the world's conflict zones. As the situation in their home countries refuses to improve, refugees from countries like Afghanistan and
Iraq are making India their home. The UN High Commission says there are 8,400 certified Afghans in India, but the unofficial number is much larger.
Mohammad Sarvar, owner of the Afghan Bakery that opened in South Delhi a few months ago, belongs to one of India's largest official refugee groups. His bakers, who knock out Afghanistan's ubiquitous naans are also from Afghanistan.
While the aim of sucheateries is to provide a slice of home to fellow countrymen, they could offer aninteresting experience for the Indian palate. Except that they largely don't. "Ifrequent the Kabul Delhi restaurant and the Afghan Restaurant because the foodis non-spicy, simple and value-for-money," says Vidya Mathai, a professionalphotographer whose work takes her everywhere in Delhi and further afield.
"Myfriends and associates from out of town want to go to these places because ofthe exotica value attached," she says. "I suspect most of them don't even likethe food!" she laughs.
It is the rare 'conflict zone' eatery thatdoesn't really cater to the Indian palate. Delhi's newly opened Iraqi restaurantis one that dares to try authenticity. A group of students from Iraq, tired ofeating vegetarian food, started their own restaurant. Most of their patrons areArab. They say their Qosi (lamb curry) and Pomfret on rice are the most populardishes but for the few Indians who come, the mild kebabs seem to tick all theright boxes.
But this hardly implies that even as the Indian goesglobal, his palate remains local. In Chennai, at sundown, street corners comealive with the smell and flavours of Burma. And it is the locals who give thevendors selling Burmese food brisk business.
R Muniyandi, who fledBurma for India, his homeland, in 1983, says: "This is what I ate in Rangoon. Idon't know any other trade and this is good business". Burmese repatriatesarrived in Tamil Nadu in droves between 1963 and 1989 after the military juntatightened its grip over Burma, now Myanmar. Many of them, scattered around thecity, run thriving street food stalls.