New Delhi
Tribal cuisine, despite being nutritious, seasonal and deeply ecological, remains largely absent from India’s mainstream dining spaces. Though wholesome and diverse, tribal dishes are rarely found in restaurants.
A few exceptions exist, such as Ajam Emba in Ranchi, Jharkhand, which positions itself as a space dedicated to reviving Adivasi culinary heritage. But such initiatives are limited.
The question is not merely about taste, but about visibility, dignity and survival of food traditions rooted in forests and indigenous knowledge.
Forest As A Source Of Food
At the heart of tribal food practices lies the forest. Many ingredients are foraged — kanda or tubers, mushrooms and leafy greens collected seasonally and prepared at home. The Pihiri mushroom, for instance, is gathered and sold in villages within the Achanakmar Tiger Reserve in Chhattisgarh. It appears during the monsoon and disappears soon after. Such foods are largely collected by women and transformed into delicacies within households.
But ecological change is altering this cycle. As forests shrink and villages are relocated in the name of wildlife conservation, culinary traditions face rupture. If relocation from Achanakmar continues, the Pihiri itself may fade from collective memory. Plantation and commercial agriculture have also disrupted traditional cropping systems. In Araku, coffee cultivation has replaced millets once grown and consumed by tribal communities, while in the Niyamgiri hills, pineapples have displaced older food crops.
The forest remains central not only as a source of ingredients but as a way of tribal life. The Pihiri mushroom grows naturally during the rainy season and is not cultivated like urban mushrooms. Numerous saags — leafy greens often dismissed as weeds in mainstream agriculture — are nutrient-rich and widely consumed in tribal households.
Last November, Dr Geetanjali Singh, an Assistant Professor of Botany at the Dr Shyama Prasad Mukherjee University in Ranchi, delivered a lecture in Bangkok discussing 64 varieties of saags, including Kalmi Saag, at an international biodiversity conference attended by delegates from the Food and Agriculture Organisation (FAO) of the United Nations.
She also described indigenous cooking methods, arguing that the standardisation of food habits and cultural biases prevent wider acceptance of tribal cuisine.
For communities such as the Pahari Korba in Chhattisgarh, forest foraging remains integral. Bhamru Hansda, based in Raigarh’s Dharamjaigarh division, regularly walks three kilometres into the forest to collect tubers — a tradition known locally as Basa. The most prized among these is the Pitharu kanda.
“They love these tubers. Whenever they enter the jungle, they stay there up to a week inside in make makeshift shelters. These tubers are dug in the winter till February,” said Naresh Biswas from Dindori district of Madhya Pradesh, who documents the life and food of the Baiga tribals.
Biswas further explained the sustainable practices associated with harvesting. “The Pitharu kanda is the tastiest and one has to dig a few feet deep for this. There is a unique system of digging to ensure that the tubers sprout next year. Sometimes, the tubers collected are dried and stored for up to a year. Containers made of Mahul leaves are made to store these tubers.” Hansda added that elephant movement sometimes deters foraging, and climate change has reduced tuber availability.
In this context, documentation becomes crucial. The youth-led Lahanti Club, formed in 2017 in Jamui district of Bihar, has recorded several traditional foods through videos, some of which are available on YouTube. Such efforts attempt to create an archive for future generations.
Popularising And Serving Tribal Fare
While structural challenges persist, some chefs are attempting to bridge the gap between forest kitchens and urban tables. Odisha-based chef Rachit Kirtiman believes awareness is the biggest hurdle. To understand tribal cuisine, he argues, chefs must travel to interior regions rather than reinterpret from a distance. He cites chefs Manish Mehrotra and Varun Totlani, who visited Chhattisgarh after a state-led initiative invited mainstream culinary figures to recreate tribal dishes.
Kirtiman himself experiments with indigenous ingredients, presenting them in contemporary formats during food pop-ups. He has featured Kai — red ant chutney — often described as exotic in urban settings. He points out that jhil pitha, a baked Santhali preparation of rice paste and boiled chicken placed between Sal leaves, closely resembles a French quiche in structure, demonstrating how culinary parallels can build familiarity.
Institutional spaces, too, are engaging with indigenous food. In Mayurbhanj district of Odisha, Belgadia Palace serves traditional tribal dishes such as bamboo chicken, Enduri pitha wrapped in turmeric leaf, and Kai chutney, which has earned a GI tag. The idea, according to palace manager Soutam Pramanik, is to showcase tribal culture through cuisine.
Dr Singh, links this absence to a broader social reality. “Some tribal recipes are also time-consuming. Sometimes, the ingredients aren’t readily available in the cities. At the same time, there is an absence of good chefs who can promote tribal food in high-end restaurants and hotels.” According to her, the marginalisation of tribal communities as a whole has inevitably affected the visibility of their cuisine.
For Singh, revival must also happen at the local level. She advocates for more restaurants in Jharkhand to serve tribal fare. The authenticity of these dishes, she explains, depends heavily on traditional preparation methods. Rice atta, a staple ingredient, is ideally processed using the dheki — a traditional wooden pounder — which has nearly disappeared.
Machines, she says, cannot replicate the same texture or taste. Fermented and dried bamboo shoots remain popular, and preparation techniques matter deeply. “The red ant chutney is best enjoyed when the sil batta is used instead of a mixer grinder.”
Among Dr Singh’s favourite dishes is paat pora — Arwa rice and chicken wrapped in fresh Sal leaves and slow-cooked over a smoky fire. “One can add garlic for taste and the time taken is roughly 45 minutes. Thankfully, I get many of the ingredients in Ranchi.” Yet she acknowledges the growing difficulty of sourcing forest produce amid rising deforestation. Younger generations, drawn to market foods and changing aspirations, are increasingly reluctant to forage.
Ultimately, making tribal food mainstream is not only about restaurant menus. It involves ecological preservation, cultural respect, culinary innovation and intergenerational transmission. Without safeguarding forests and indigenous knowledge systems, the ingredients — and the stories they carry — risk disappearing altogether.
