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A Taste of Time: A Food History of Calcutta
Calcutta, once the nucleus of the Raj, was at the heart of a thriving economy and unparalleled administration. Over the centuries, this teeming, cosmopolitan metropolis has become home to people from various communities who have lent its food and culture their distinctive tastes and culinary rituals.
The heady romance of palates and flavours in the ‘Royal Capital’ has fostered diversity in food and culture all the while adhering to the city’s Bengali roots.
A Taste of Time is an insightful journey through the ever-changing landscape of Calcutta’s food and cultural milieu, from its decades-old cutlet, jhal muri, and puchka stalls to its iconic continental restaurants like Firpo’s and Flurys; from its oldest tea shop, Favourite Cabin, set up in 1924, to the 21st-century fine-dining restaurant three sixty three. Mohona Kanjilal, through her immaculate research, deftly captures the stories behind the city’s endearing culture of ‘bikel chaar-ter cha’ (tea at 4 p.m.); its renowned bakeries like Nahoum’s; and the invention of rasogollas and samosas (or shingara).
Diving into Calcutta’s dazzling history, she explores how the food habits of
early European settlers, Jewish, Armenian, Chinese, Parsi and other expats, and the city’s next-door neighbours like Darjeeling and Odisha, have made the culinary fabric of Calcutta immensely rich and layered.
This delightful and comprehensive history of food in Calcutta, peppered with mouth-watering nuggets, recipes and intriguing accounts of some revolutionary personalities of Bengal will appeal to the mind and tastebuds alike.
The heady romance of palates and flavours in the ‘Royal Capital’ has fostered diversity in food and culture all the while adhering to the city’s Bengali roots.
A Taste of Time is an insightful journey through the ever-changing landscape of Calcutta’s food and cultural milieu, from its decades-old cutlet, jhal muri, and puchka stalls to its iconic continental restaurants like Firpo’s and Flurys; from its oldest tea shop, Favourite Cabin, set up in 1924, to the 21st-century fine-dining restaurant three sixty three. Mohona Kanjilal, through her immaculate research, deftly captures the stories behind the city’s endearing culture of ‘bikel chaar-ter cha’ (tea at 4 p.m.); its renowned bakeries like Nahoum’s; and the invention of rasogollas and samosas (or shingara).
Diving into Calcutta’s dazzling history, she explores how the food habits of
early European settlers, Jewish, Armenian, Chinese, Parsi and other expats, and the city’s next-door neighbours like Darjeeling and Odisha, have made the culinary fabric of Calcutta immensely rich and layered.
This delightful and comprehensive history of food in Calcutta, peppered with mouth-watering nuggets, recipes and intriguing accounts of some revolutionary personalities of Bengal will appeal to the mind and tastebuds alike.
512 pages, Paperback
Published April 15, 2021
15 people are currently reading
194 people want to read
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Displaying 1 - 7 of 7 reviews
October 8, 2021
A commendable effort - very comprehensive analysis of the Calcutta's food history - which even native Bengalis will learn a lot from. One hopes that entrepreneurs take inspiration from this book and try their hand in sustaining the dying cuisines (like Parsi, Jewish) that have been been so integral to the cosmopolitan and liberal ethos of the city.
January 27, 2022
Not fully. This 500+ page tome needs some ruthless editing. Reminds me of an undergraduate presentation where the student makes 50 slides for a 10-minute slot and is too much in love with all the slides to be able delete even one. Good and interesting stuff, however, but don't have that kind of time!
September 26, 2025
#Binge Reviewing my previous Reads # of Calcutta
This book is not merely a chronicle of recipes or menus; it is a layered, immersive exploration of Kolkata’s evolving culinary landscape that reads as much like cultural history as it does like gastronomy. Published by Speaking Tiger, the book situates food at the very heart of the city’s identity, using it as a lens through which to examine the interplay of culture, history, and social change. In doing so, Kanjilal invites the reader to consider how what we eat is never merely sustenance, but also a marker of geography, migration, politics, and taste, and how the city’s long history of confluences—of trade, colonisation, migration, and invention—has produced a culinary identity both distinctive and eclectic.
The genius of Kanjilal’s approach lies in her capacity to blend meticulous historical research with a narrative sensibility that makes the past feel tangible. Kolkata, formerly Calcutta, was a colonial trading hub long before it became the modern metropolis known today. The city’s streets, markets, and eateries are palimpsests, layered with the flavours and habits of diverse communities that have settled here over centuries. Kanjilal maps this diversity not through abstract demographic charts but through food, demonstrating how culinary practices reflect deeper social histories. By anchoring her narrative in the lived experience of Kolkata’s residents, both historical and contemporary, she ensures that the book functions as a bridge between the past and the present, a reflection on how cultural memory is encoded in taste.
The structure of *A Taste of Time* is itself a reflection of the city’s historical layering. Kanjilal begins with the British, Portuguese, and Anglo-Indian contributions to Kolkata’s cuisine. This is a period when the city was slowly emerging as a colonial nucleus, and the confluence of local ingredients with European techniques created entirely new dishes. Here, the reader is introduced to iconic culinary creations such as chops, cutlets, and puddings. The ‘chop,’ for instance, is more than a snack; it is a tangible symbol of hybridisation, a Bengali reinterpretation of the English croquette, an artefact of culinary dialogue between coloniser and colonised.
The Anglo-Indian influence, similarly, reflects not only the dietary habits of colonial administrators but also the improvisation of cooks who had to reconcile European tastes with Indian availability of ingredients. This initial exploration underscores how food in Kolkata has historically been both an act of adaptation and a means of asserting identity.
Kanjilal then expands her lens to consider the impact of other diasporic communities, each of which has left a distinct imprint on the city’s gastronomic culture. The Jewish community, for example, brought with it bakeries and confectioneries, exemplified by Nahoum’s, established in 1902, whose plum cakes, breads, and preserves became local legends. Nahoum’s is more than a commercial establishment; it is a historical marker, a living archive of taste and tradition. Similarly, Armenian merchants and settlers introduced unique ingredients and preparations that continue to echo in Kolkata kitchens. Mughal culinary influence, often expressed through rich gravies, biryanis, and aromatic sweets, coexisted with Chinese contributions, such as chop suey, noodles, and stir-fried vegetables, reflecting the city’s role as a port and a meeting point of different culinary sensibilities. Even regional influences, such as Odishan delicacies and the teas and sweets of Darjeeling, find their way into this narrative, highlighting how the city has always been porous, absorbing, and inventive.
What sets Kanjilal’s work apart is her ability to humanise history through stories. She does not merely list dishes and their origins; she contextualises them, showing how food intersects with broader cultural and social currents. For instance, Favourite Cabin, Kolkata’s oldest tea shop, becomes a portal into the city’s political history, a place where freedom fighters once gathered and strategised over cups of tea and plates of local snacks. Similarly, the Jewish bakeries are not just culinary landmarks but also social spaces that speak to the rhythms of community life, migration, and memory. Through these anecdotes, Kanjilal illustrates how food is never neutral; it is both a product and a producer of social networks, of identity, and of collective memory.
The book is rich with such historical and cultural insights. Kanjilal traces how tea and coffee became staples of Bengali breakfasts under European influence, a practice that has now become so embedded that it is almost impossible to imagine a morning in Kolkata without them. She also examines the regional and linguistic divides within Bengali cuisine itself, noting the sometimes playful, sometimes contentious distinctions between ‘ghotis’—native Bengalis of West Bengal—and ‘bangals’—those who migrated from East Bengal. These divisions manifest in preferences for particular fish such as hilsa or dried varieties, in subtle differences in spice, in approaches to sweets and desserts. Here, food becomes a medium for identity, a way in which histories of displacement, migration, and memory are both remembered and performed at the dinner table.
Kanjilal’s narrative also captures the evolution of Kolkata’s street food, which is emblematic of the city’s public life. From puchkas to jhalmuri, from kathi rolls to egg chops, street food is not only culinary but also social. It reflects the rhythms of daily life, the bustling energy of markets, the intersection of people from different classes and backgrounds, and the improvisation of cooks who must satisfy tastes both traditional and cosmopolitan. By situating these everyday foods within historical and cultural contexts, Kanjilal elevates them from mere snacks to cultural artifacts, demonstrating how even ephemeral tastes can carry long histories.
Another remarkable aspect of the book is the meticulous way Kanjilal integrates historical research into a narrative that is always readable. She draws on a variety of sources—archival documents, old menus, cookbooks, personal interviews, newspapers, and oral histories—to create a layered, textured understanding of Kolkata’s culinary past. This research is never obtrusive; it informs the narrative without slowing it down. The reader moves seamlessly from colonial dining halls to street corners, from Jewish bakeries to Chinese noodle shops, absorbing not only the details of recipes and ingredients but also the social and historical processes that made them significant. Through this method, Kanjilal exemplifies how food history can illuminate broader questions of urban history, migration, and cultural exchange.
The book also illuminates the relationship between food and class in Kolkata. Elite households, colonial administrators, and well-to-do families had access to imported goods, complex cooking techniques, and elaborate feasts, while the lower classes developed inventive and accessible food practices that relied on local ingredients and improvisation. Yet these distinctions were neither rigid nor impermeable. Street food, for example, often incorporated elements from upper-class cuisine, while some sweets and snacks originally associated with elite households became popular among broader populations. Kanjilal captures this fluidity, showing how culinary practices traverse social boundaries and how taste itself becomes a site of negotiation between tradition, aspiration, and adaptation.
Kanjilal also pays attention to the performative aspects of Kolkata’s food culture. Festivals, family celebrations, and community gatherings are all inflected with culinary symbolism. The preparation and consumption of food are acts of social cohesion, ritual, and memory. Durga Puja, for instance, is not only a religious celebration but also a culinary event, where sweets, savouries, and snacks are integral to the experience. Similarly, the preparation of certain dishes during weddings, births, and religious observances reinforces cultural identities while simultaneously serving as occasions for experimentation and exchange. In this way, food is both a carrier of tradition and a site for innovation.
The linguistic dimensions of Kolkata’s food culture are also fascinatingly explored. Terms like ‘cutlet,’ ‘chop,’ or ‘roll’ carry with them layers of meaning and history. These words are not mere labels; they are traces of colonial influence, migration, and adaptation. Kanjilal shows how the vocabulary of food, like the recipes themselves, maps the city’s social history, reflecting the mingling of languages, communities, and cuisines. The etymology of dishes often opens windows into cross-cultural encounters, whether between British colonists and Bengali cooks or between Chinese immigrants and local populations. The city’s food lexicon thus becomes a site of cultural memory, linguistic hybridity, and negotiation.
The historical narrative Kanjilal constructs is never static; it always attends to change, adaptation, and the temporal dynamics of culinary life. Recipes evolve, ingredients migrate, tastes shift, and what is considered traditional is always under redefinition. For example, the incorporation of European baking techniques into local confectionery did not remain static; it was continuously adapted to local palates, creating a uniquely Bengali version of what might have originally been an English pudding or croquette.
Similarly, the recipes introduced by Chinese, Jewish, or Mughal communities were never frozen; they were adjusted according to ingredient availability, local tastes, and social norms, leading to a continuous process of hybridisation. Through such examples, Kanjilal illustrates that culinary history is inseparable from social history, a mirror reflecting the dynamism of Kolkata itself.
In addition to its historical and cultural richness, *A Taste of Time* has significant scholarly value. It provides an extensive and detailed account of the city’s foodways that will serve as a foundation for further research in fields as diverse as anthropology, urban studies, migration history, and cultural studies. By meticulously documenting both elite and popular culinary practices, Kanjilal ensures that future researchers have access to a panoramic view of Kolkata’s gastronomic evolution. At the same time, the book’s accessibility makes it appealing to general readers, food enthusiasts, and residents of Kolkata who wish to better understand the city they inhabit. This dual appeal, scholarly yet popular, is one of the book’s greatest achievements.
Perhaps most importantly, Kanjilal’s work demonstrates how food acts as a mnemonic device. Through dishes, ingredients, and culinary practices, the city’s history is recalled and retold. Sweet shops, street food stalls, bakeries, and family kitchens all become repositories of memory, sites where the city’s past is continually
Try out this book.
This book is not merely a chronicle of recipes or menus; it is a layered, immersive exploration of Kolkata’s evolving culinary landscape that reads as much like cultural history as it does like gastronomy. Published by Speaking Tiger, the book situates food at the very heart of the city’s identity, using it as a lens through which to examine the interplay of culture, history, and social change. In doing so, Kanjilal invites the reader to consider how what we eat is never merely sustenance, but also a marker of geography, migration, politics, and taste, and how the city’s long history of confluences—of trade, colonisation, migration, and invention—has produced a culinary identity both distinctive and eclectic.
The genius of Kanjilal’s approach lies in her capacity to blend meticulous historical research with a narrative sensibility that makes the past feel tangible. Kolkata, formerly Calcutta, was a colonial trading hub long before it became the modern metropolis known today. The city’s streets, markets, and eateries are palimpsests, layered with the flavours and habits of diverse communities that have settled here over centuries. Kanjilal maps this diversity not through abstract demographic charts but through food, demonstrating how culinary practices reflect deeper social histories. By anchoring her narrative in the lived experience of Kolkata’s residents, both historical and contemporary, she ensures that the book functions as a bridge between the past and the present, a reflection on how cultural memory is encoded in taste.
The structure of *A Taste of Time* is itself a reflection of the city’s historical layering. Kanjilal begins with the British, Portuguese, and Anglo-Indian contributions to Kolkata’s cuisine. This is a period when the city was slowly emerging as a colonial nucleus, and the confluence of local ingredients with European techniques created entirely new dishes. Here, the reader is introduced to iconic culinary creations such as chops, cutlets, and puddings. The ‘chop,’ for instance, is more than a snack; it is a tangible symbol of hybridisation, a Bengali reinterpretation of the English croquette, an artefact of culinary dialogue between coloniser and colonised.
The Anglo-Indian influence, similarly, reflects not only the dietary habits of colonial administrators but also the improvisation of cooks who had to reconcile European tastes with Indian availability of ingredients. This initial exploration underscores how food in Kolkata has historically been both an act of adaptation and a means of asserting identity.
Kanjilal then expands her lens to consider the impact of other diasporic communities, each of which has left a distinct imprint on the city’s gastronomic culture. The Jewish community, for example, brought with it bakeries and confectioneries, exemplified by Nahoum’s, established in 1902, whose plum cakes, breads, and preserves became local legends. Nahoum’s is more than a commercial establishment; it is a historical marker, a living archive of taste and tradition. Similarly, Armenian merchants and settlers introduced unique ingredients and preparations that continue to echo in Kolkata kitchens. Mughal culinary influence, often expressed through rich gravies, biryanis, and aromatic sweets, coexisted with Chinese contributions, such as chop suey, noodles, and stir-fried vegetables, reflecting the city’s role as a port and a meeting point of different culinary sensibilities. Even regional influences, such as Odishan delicacies and the teas and sweets of Darjeeling, find their way into this narrative, highlighting how the city has always been porous, absorbing, and inventive.
What sets Kanjilal’s work apart is her ability to humanise history through stories. She does not merely list dishes and their origins; she contextualises them, showing how food intersects with broader cultural and social currents. For instance, Favourite Cabin, Kolkata’s oldest tea shop, becomes a portal into the city’s political history, a place where freedom fighters once gathered and strategised over cups of tea and plates of local snacks. Similarly, the Jewish bakeries are not just culinary landmarks but also social spaces that speak to the rhythms of community life, migration, and memory. Through these anecdotes, Kanjilal illustrates how food is never neutral; it is both a product and a producer of social networks, of identity, and of collective memory.
The book is rich with such historical and cultural insights. Kanjilal traces how tea and coffee became staples of Bengali breakfasts under European influence, a practice that has now become so embedded that it is almost impossible to imagine a morning in Kolkata without them. She also examines the regional and linguistic divides within Bengali cuisine itself, noting the sometimes playful, sometimes contentious distinctions between ‘ghotis’—native Bengalis of West Bengal—and ‘bangals’—those who migrated from East Bengal. These divisions manifest in preferences for particular fish such as hilsa or dried varieties, in subtle differences in spice, in approaches to sweets and desserts. Here, food becomes a medium for identity, a way in which histories of displacement, migration, and memory are both remembered and performed at the dinner table.
Kanjilal’s narrative also captures the evolution of Kolkata’s street food, which is emblematic of the city’s public life. From puchkas to jhalmuri, from kathi rolls to egg chops, street food is not only culinary but also social. It reflects the rhythms of daily life, the bustling energy of markets, the intersection of people from different classes and backgrounds, and the improvisation of cooks who must satisfy tastes both traditional and cosmopolitan. By situating these everyday foods within historical and cultural contexts, Kanjilal elevates them from mere snacks to cultural artifacts, demonstrating how even ephemeral tastes can carry long histories.
Another remarkable aspect of the book is the meticulous way Kanjilal integrates historical research into a narrative that is always readable. She draws on a variety of sources—archival documents, old menus, cookbooks, personal interviews, newspapers, and oral histories—to create a layered, textured understanding of Kolkata’s culinary past. This research is never obtrusive; it informs the narrative without slowing it down. The reader moves seamlessly from colonial dining halls to street corners, from Jewish bakeries to Chinese noodle shops, absorbing not only the details of recipes and ingredients but also the social and historical processes that made them significant. Through this method, Kanjilal exemplifies how food history can illuminate broader questions of urban history, migration, and cultural exchange.
The book also illuminates the relationship between food and class in Kolkata. Elite households, colonial administrators, and well-to-do families had access to imported goods, complex cooking techniques, and elaborate feasts, while the lower classes developed inventive and accessible food practices that relied on local ingredients and improvisation. Yet these distinctions were neither rigid nor impermeable. Street food, for example, often incorporated elements from upper-class cuisine, while some sweets and snacks originally associated with elite households became popular among broader populations. Kanjilal captures this fluidity, showing how culinary practices traverse social boundaries and how taste itself becomes a site of negotiation between tradition, aspiration, and adaptation.
Kanjilal also pays attention to the performative aspects of Kolkata’s food culture. Festivals, family celebrations, and community gatherings are all inflected with culinary symbolism. The preparation and consumption of food are acts of social cohesion, ritual, and memory. Durga Puja, for instance, is not only a religious celebration but also a culinary event, where sweets, savouries, and snacks are integral to the experience. Similarly, the preparation of certain dishes during weddings, births, and religious observances reinforces cultural identities while simultaneously serving as occasions for experimentation and exchange. In this way, food is both a carrier of tradition and a site for innovation.
The linguistic dimensions of Kolkata’s food culture are also fascinatingly explored. Terms like ‘cutlet,’ ‘chop,’ or ‘roll’ carry with them layers of meaning and history. These words are not mere labels; they are traces of colonial influence, migration, and adaptation. Kanjilal shows how the vocabulary of food, like the recipes themselves, maps the city’s social history, reflecting the mingling of languages, communities, and cuisines. The etymology of dishes often opens windows into cross-cultural encounters, whether between British colonists and Bengali cooks or between Chinese immigrants and local populations. The city’s food lexicon thus becomes a site of cultural memory, linguistic hybridity, and negotiation.
The historical narrative Kanjilal constructs is never static; it always attends to change, adaptation, and the temporal dynamics of culinary life. Recipes evolve, ingredients migrate, tastes shift, and what is considered traditional is always under redefinition. For example, the incorporation of European baking techniques into local confectionery did not remain static; it was continuously adapted to local palates, creating a uniquely Bengali version of what might have originally been an English pudding or croquette.
Similarly, the recipes introduced by Chinese, Jewish, or Mughal communities were never frozen; they were adjusted according to ingredient availability, local tastes, and social norms, leading to a continuous process of hybridisation. Through such examples, Kanjilal illustrates that culinary history is inseparable from social history, a mirror reflecting the dynamism of Kolkata itself.
In addition to its historical and cultural richness, *A Taste of Time* has significant scholarly value. It provides an extensive and detailed account of the city’s foodways that will serve as a foundation for further research in fields as diverse as anthropology, urban studies, migration history, and cultural studies. By meticulously documenting both elite and popular culinary practices, Kanjilal ensures that future researchers have access to a panoramic view of Kolkata’s gastronomic evolution. At the same time, the book’s accessibility makes it appealing to general readers, food enthusiasts, and residents of Kolkata who wish to better understand the city they inhabit. This dual appeal, scholarly yet popular, is one of the book’s greatest achievements.
Perhaps most importantly, Kanjilal’s work demonstrates how food acts as a mnemonic device. Through dishes, ingredients, and culinary practices, the city’s history is recalled and retold. Sweet shops, street food stalls, bakeries, and family kitchens all become repositories of memory, sites where the city’s past is continually
Try out this book.
March 3, 2024
Mohona carefully parses though centuries of history and cultural folklore to reveal the undercurrent of Bengali cuisine; a whoe spectrum of food that is often monolithically characterised as just "maach bhaat" or "rice and fish". From the array of vegetarian options, to strong influences of the many inhabitants of the land (the Portuguese, British, Jews, Muslim dynasties) in our unending options for desserts, Mohona's book is such a pleasure to read through. The book does digress from culinary history to cookbook in the second half, but that motivated me to stock my home in Copenhagen with a generous supply of spices and look up a lot of new recipes, so I guess that is a win anyway!
June 1, 2022
For my research purposes while writing my novel, Song of Herself, set in India, this was a great companion to help me find tidbits of authentic information on food and eating styles at home and in the city of Calcutta specifically.
No, I've not read near all of it. In fact, some of it is of no value to me. BUT the parts I needed for my book were so very helpful. If you are a foodie or interested in International cuisine, I would highly recommend it.
No, I've not read near all of it. In fact, some of it is of no value to me. BUT the parts I needed for my book were so very helpful. If you are a foodie or interested in International cuisine, I would highly recommend it.
October 10, 2021
A massively well-researched book that begins from the foundation of Kolkata as a city and the multitudes of communities who made it their home, eventually burgeoning its culinary diversity.
September 10, 2021
The book A Taste of Time seemed promising in the beginning as it talks about the culinary history of Calcutta.
It does touch upon a lot of old Calcutta food, restaurants that are no more. It goes back to the Pre Moghul times also and talks about introduction of various fruits and vegetables in the Indian culinary scene. Mostly from Portuguese. The book is interesting in parts for the historical evolution of the Calcutta Culinary skills, the old restaurants that are no more and on the various mix of food culture from various communities that make the Calcutta food scene so interesting.
My problem with the book is the staid way of writing. It sometimes seemed you are reading a boring journal. There is no play of words or a story woven into. Vir Sanghvis's Rude Food, The Indian Pantry, Chitrita Banerjee, The Calcutta Cook book, they all make far more interesting reads.
Also the binding of the book is loose and pages started coming off while reading. The Food pictures could have been better.
But good to see my foodie friends all mentioned in the book. Pritha Sen, Doma Wang, Manzilat Fatima, Bibi Sarkar, Prithvish Chakrabarti, Elika Awomi, and many more.
#djreads #Atasteoftime #Mohonakanjilal #Speakingtiger
It does touch upon a lot of old Calcutta food, restaurants that are no more. It goes back to the Pre Moghul times also and talks about introduction of various fruits and vegetables in the Indian culinary scene. Mostly from Portuguese. The book is interesting in parts for the historical evolution of the Calcutta Culinary skills, the old restaurants that are no more and on the various mix of food culture from various communities that make the Calcutta food scene so interesting.
My problem with the book is the staid way of writing. It sometimes seemed you are reading a boring journal. There is no play of words or a story woven into. Vir Sanghvis's Rude Food, The Indian Pantry, Chitrita Banerjee, The Calcutta Cook book, they all make far more interesting reads.
Also the binding of the book is loose and pages started coming off while reading. The Food pictures could have been better.
But good to see my foodie friends all mentioned in the book. Pritha Sen, Doma Wang, Manzilat Fatima, Bibi Sarkar, Prithvish Chakrabarti, Elika Awomi, and many more.
#djreads #Atasteoftime #Mohonakanjilal #Speakingtiger
Displaying 1 - 7 of 7 reviews