Beyond the caste of cuisine: Reclaiming Ayurveda and economic reality in Indian food

Examining Indian food beyond caste frameworks reveals a universal pattern of economic ingenuity and Ayurvedic wisdom, challenging reductive Western narratives

Examining Indian food beyond caste frameworks reveals a universal pattern of economic ingenuity and Ayurvedic wisdom, challenging reductive Western narratives
Examining Indian food beyond caste frameworks reveals a universal pattern of economic ingenuity and Ayurvedic wisdom, challenging reductive Western narratives

How economic necessity, not caste, shapes India’s flavors

In recent months, a flurry of international reporting has attempted to “rediscover” the diversity of Indian cuisine by anchoring it to the country’s ancient caste system. A recent exploration of Indian culinary history in The Economist (“India’s ‘untouchable’ cooking,” December 18, 2025[1]) rightly celebrates the overlooked flavors and traditions of India. However, it frames these cuisines almost exclusively through the lens of caste—explicitly linking “caste and cuisine” and employing phrases such as “the hidden joys of a cuisine shaped by cruelty.”

Given The Economist’s long-standing tendency toward reductive narratives about India, this framing appears less accidental than interpretive: a conflation of economic necessity with social hierarchy. While caste distinctions long predate colonial rule, it is also historically documented that British colonial administration hardened, codified, and bureaucratized caste identities in unprecedented ways. This colonial legacy is rarely acknowledged in contemporary Western commentary, even as caste is repeatedly foregrounded as the primary explanatory lens for Indian society.

What is characterized as “untouchable” cooking is more accurately understood as the cuisine of the disenfranchised—a global phenomenon in which economically marginalized communities, whether in India, Appalachia, or rural France, transform offal, foraged greens, and preservation techniques into deeply flavorful cuisines born of necessity rather than identity.

The economic universal: Cuisine of necessity

Growing up in a traditional vegetarian household, I was totally unfamiliar with offal-based cooking. Encountering these flavors, highlighted in The Economist, was instructive, not because they represented “caste cuisines.” It was also interesting because they revealed the ingenuity that historically arises when people work with what is available. The association of offal, wild roots, or specific preservation techniques with Dalit communities is not evidence of a caste-based culinary identity; it reflects a universal economic reality.

Across cultures and throughout history, the wealthy have consumed “high-status” ingredients, while the poor have innovated with what remained affordable. For example, in the American South, soul food transformed discarded cuts of meat into cultural staples. In Europe, peasant stews laid the foundation for haute cuisine. In India, foraged greens and dishes such as honeycomb curry emerged from the same resourcefulness. Today’s preference among elites for “organic” or artisanal foods follows a similar pattern: wealth determines access, not virtue, caste, creed, or skin color.

By labeling these traditions as “caste flavors,” in The Economist, it shows the Western media bias, and we risk romanticizing what was often the bitter outcome of poverty. One’s fixation on caste alone is to ignore the broader, shared struggle of marginalized communities worldwide to find dignity, nourishment, and creativity in the kitchen.

Ayurveda: A science of biology, not biography

Perhaps the most consequential misunderstanding in contemporary media is the treatment of Ayurvedic food categories—Sattvic, Rajasic, and Tamasic—as instruments of social exclusion. In the Ayurvedic tradition, these classifications are physiological and psychological, not social labels.

  • Sattvic foods (fresh, light, and natural) support clarity, balance, and calm.
  • Rajasic foods (spicy, pungent, and stimulating) fuel action and intensity.
  • Tamasic foods (heavy, stale, or overly processed) are associated with lethargy and inertia.

These categories are fluid and contextual. A freshly harvested leaf is Sattvic; the same leaf, stale or poorly stored, becomes Tamasic, regardless of who prepares it. This framework describes how food interacts with Agni (digestive fire) and influences mental and physical states. Reducing this sophisticated system of wellness to a proxy for caste erases its scientific intent and universal applicability.

The morality of choice

Any honest discussion of Indian cuisine must also acknowledge its ethical implications. For many, vegetarianism is rooted in Ahimsa, the moral principle of non-violence, rather than social dominance. While dietary choice must remain personal, dismissing vegetarianism as merely a tool of caste oppression ignores the sincere spiritual, environmental, and philosophical convictions of millions of Indians across regions and backgrounds.

Conclusion: Disassociating plate from pedigree

Highlighting marginalized voices is a legitimate and necessary journalistic aim. Yet the persistent association of specific flavors with rigid social hierarchy, rather than with economic reality or Ayurvedic science, is a disservice to the complexity of Indian cuisine and culture.

Notably, Prime Minister Narendra Modi has recently promoted millets such as jowar and bajra. Once dismissed as “poor people’s food” in post-independence India, these grains are now recognized as nutritionally superior and environmentally resilient staples. This reframing underscores a broader truth: food traditions evolve, and their value lies in health, sustainability, and human ingenuity, not inherited status.

As we move into 2026, the Indian diaspora and the global community must strive for a culinary discourse that is both inclusive and accurate. We should celebrate the ferociously flavorful innovations of every community as triumphs of human resilience, while respecting the ancient sciences that help us understand our bodies.

For The Economist and everyone, food should be a bridge, not a barrier, and a source of health, not a reduction of history.

Note:
1. Text in Blue points to additional data on the topic.
2. The views expressed here are those of the author and do not necessarily represent or reflect the views of PGurus.
3. The use of ChatGPT for research is acknowledged.

Reference:

[1] From honeycomb curry to blood fry: India’s “untouchable” cookingDec 18, 2025, The Economist

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Vijendra Agarwal, born in village Kota (Saharanpur, U.P), left India in 1973 after Ph.D. (Physics) from IIT Roorkee. He is currently a member of project GNARUS, a syndicated service and writers collective. He and his wife co-founded a US-based NGO, Vidya Gyan, to serve rural India toward better education and health of children, especially empowerment of girls. Vidya Gyan is a calling to give back to rural communities and keeping connected to his roots which gave him so much more. His passion for writing includes the interface of policy, politics, and people, and social/cultural activities promoting community engagement.

Formerly, a researcher in Italy, Japan, and France, he has widely travelled and came to the US in 1978. He was a faculty and academic administrator in several different universities in PA, TX, NJ, MN, WI, and NY, and an Executive Fellow in the White House S&T Policy during the Clinton administration.
Vijendra Agarwal

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