Our Favourite Reads from 2024: Year-End Reading by Goya’s Writers

A compilation of some of great food writing from across the world this year, as picked by Goya writers.

It’s been the end of another food-filled year. At Goya, we hosted some successful events for the community, including the second edition of the Food Nerd Festival, in Mumbai and Bengaluru.

On Goya, we’ve published a series of excellent food stories throughout the year, including topical stories that delved on caste, community and religion. Next year, we will be sharing many more stories from kitchens across the country, under our #1000Kitchens series. Look out for more diverse recipes and heartwarming stories from Indian kitchens.

To end the year with some delectable reading, we asked our writers to share some of their favourite stories around food. Think of it as food for thought.

A Food Writers Steps Down: The New York Times

The first thing you learn as a restaurant critic is that nobody wants to hear you complain. The work of going out to eat every night with hand-chosen groups of friends and family sounds suspiciously like what other people do on vacation. One thing we almost never bring up, though, is our health. We avoid mentioning weight the way actors avoid saying “Macbeth.” Partly, we do this out of politeness. Mostly, though, we all know that we’re standing on the rim of an endlessly deep hole and that if we look down we might fall in.

'After 12 Years of Reviewing Restaurants, I’m Leaving the Table' by Pete Wells is a strange choice, considering most food articles glorify food, but to me, he wrote everything I’ve always thought of. Being in the food space is balancing both envy and the hidden challenges esp regarding health, for me personally, I really identified with his swan song. Hopefully, it helps people understand that the food space isn’t always as rosy as it seems. — Saina Jaypal

A Peek Into Dalit Kitchens: The Hindu Frontline

What did the people outside the elite sphere eat every day? What do they eat today? What are their nourishments, delicacies, snacks and desserts? What festivals do they celebrate? What are the special meals prepared for festivals? What do they serve their guests? Why don’t the writers, bloggers, columnists, filmmakers, etc., ever ask such simple questions?

“As Indians, we often say proudly that the food changes every 100km. But what happens when you look deeper, not wider, into the backyard, not down the highway? An inkling of the answer lies in this powerful book, Dalit Kitchens of Marathwada. Focused on just two Dalit communities of Maharashtra, the book offers a glimpse of the many, many food cultures — and their stories — that have gone unheard, unseen and unacknowledged because of India’s caste structures. The recipes are rudimentary — there are no measures, and only the most generic methods — but this is, to my mind, the first true nose-to-tail cookbook to emerge from India. But it is something larger than that as well: It is an assertion of identity, a reclamation of space. Underpinned by generational memory, humour, anger and ownership, and lucidly translated, this is essential — if not easy — reading for anyone interested in India.” — Sumana Mukherjee

Iran’s Finest Rice is No More: Ajam Media Collective

Bara’s story is one of shared trade and culinary history between Iran and the subcontinent, and how that trade transformed in a new, colonial world economy. In British India, the new rulers were less interested in Bara rice cultivation than their predecessors, so it declined. By contrast, in Iran, Sadri growing expanded at the expense of other strains, as agriculture became commercialized and the country’s economy was forcibly pulled towards trade with Russia and the UK. In both cases, established grains declined along with old patterns of trade, making way for new ones — and reshaping the cuisines and diets of these lands. 

“I am in a rice rabbit hole at the moment and this article on Ajam Media Collective was a find. It traces the modern history of Bara rice from Peshawar in South Asia to Iran (where it is now called Sadri) between the 17th to the 19th century. I love a well referenced piece that draws upon primary material and the piece hones in expertly on the economic, political and culinary regimes that transplanted this South Asian rice in the Iranian littoral.” — Farah Yameen 

In Honour of the Toastie: Vittles

The electric sandwich maker helped create a category of toasted sandwiches – or toasties – with a distinctly South Asian identity. This variety, also sometimes called ‘toast’ (as in ‘chilli cheese toast’), was exciting and flexible, expanding the defined contours of home cooking while not upsetting the delicate balance of the domestic budget. With no history to revere or formula to adhere to, you could use whatever emerged out of the kitchen, put it between two slices of bread (buttered, ideally), and call it a toastie. The South Asian toastie could be anything it wanted to be. 

“As someone who grew up eating roadside sandwiches throughout school and college, I loved reading this piece. The author paints a vivid picture of the toastie's role in various South Asian cultures by delving into some of the practical, historical, emotional and political factors that helped to carve a niche for the toastie in people's lives. It's personal, informative and thought-provoking, but not too heavy.” — Madhulica Kallat 

Seeking out Unfamiliar Spice Tastes: The New York Times

But those of us fortunate enough to have stable food sources don’t eat merely to survive. To eat is to risk, and that is part of the lure. We want beyond what we need, be it the shudder of soul-wrenching sour, the crackle that ricochets in the skull or the feathery perforation of the slenderest needles tattooing the tongue. We want, sometimes, if only for a moment, to be not-us.

”I don’t understand how anyone likes Sichuan pepper and its accompanying strange, tingly, mouth-numbing sensation. But Ligaya Mishan’s piece on ma la took me on a journey of broad and dazzling scope through the human impulse to momentarily suspend sensation by way of A.S.M.R., clubbing, the politics of etymology, US immigration policy, and Russian art history. I’m still not convinced about eating it (I’d maybe use it for relief from a toothache, as prescribed by traditional Chinese dentists), but I’m definitely in awe of this dramatic berry, and Mishan’s writing.” — Sneha Mehta

The Truth Behind India being ‘Pure Veg’ | Goya Journal

Not only is the imposition of vegetarianism as a moral imperative both exclusionary and biased, but it deliberately erases factors of cultural, economic and environmental context that influence dietary choices. In systemically impoverished communities, access to affordable and nutritious vegetarian foods is nearly impossible, making meat consumption a practical necessity rather than a choice.

“I chose this because I think there's a lack of contemporary literature or media that addresses the vegetarian image of India. I don't think I personally realised how strong this identity of Indians as "pure vegetarians" was until I moved to Europe for my Master's. Here, almost every single interaction or discussion I have around meat is pre-mediated by an acknowledgement of how India is the land of vegetarianism. It is not false that there are many delicious and tasty Indian vegetarian dishes, but this should not normalise its imposed vegetarianism either. The two are not mutually exclusive. Ultimately, the India which is a safe haven for vegetarianism is also a violently upper caste and Brahminical India, and the piece does a wonderful job of navigating the ascribed ideal of vegetarianism.” — Divya Ravindranath

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