Let's preserve India's tradition of culinary plurality
Summer holidays throughout childhood were always spent at the Kolkata home of another aunt, my mother's closest friend and soul sister. What used to be a constant source of curiosity for me back then was the near-identical flavours of their cooking, till I found out that both honed their culinary skills under my maternal grandmother's supervision, thus becoming exponents of her signature style.
Both later added elements of their in-laws' culinary canon too.
This guru-shishya rasoi/rannaghar parampara has carried on down countless generations throughout India, creating a million variants of even the simplest dishes, each reflective of the particular sensibilities of their exponents, very similar to individual gurus and ustads of gharanas in classical music or dance. Like homestyle mushuri dal with fenugreek seed tempering (methi phoron, in Bangla) linked my mother and her best friend to my Didima/nani.
There was enormous diversity in Indian kitchens up to the turn of the 21st century, as people not only practiced the individual styles learnt from elders but also expanded to include recipes of the families they married into (or were employed by, in the case of professional cooks) as well as the new flavours of regions they moved to and cultures they encountered.
That led to children also growing up with distinctive palates, attuned to these unique culinary heritages.
Barring the biggest cities, there was little by way of public eateries apart from streetside dhabas and 'military hotels' in India till the middle of the 20th century; the best food was always cooked and served at home. Also, no single recipe prevailed over all others for any dishes as most regarded their family versions as the most 'authentic' and
