Train Journeys in India: A Culinary Ride

Train journeys in India are colorful events, with each compartment, often referred to as a bogie, being a microcosmic representation of the country, offering an immersive sensory experience. Merry passengers singing, a grouchy uncle upset about one thing or the other, women in their colorful sarees, a cranky baby, food vendors pacing the aisles, the reclusive readers, and the ones who sleep through the mayhem, are all staples on such journeys. There is a harmonious chaos. 

Food on these trains deserves a special mention. I have some vivid food memories from my train travels over the years. 

October 1986

We commenced our vacation by boarding a train. As soon as it set in motion, an attendant offered us a choice of beverages: tea, coffee, or tomato soup served with breadsticks. The soup caught my fancy. I hurriedly took my first sip, singeing my palate, yet pleased with my selection. Much to my dismay, my mom announced that she had packed a healthy home-cooked meal for dinner. It was thoughtful but my excitement was dashed. I longingly watched the trays of food go past, content with just a whiff. It instantly went on my bucket list. 

February 2014

Several years later, now an adult, traveling solo on a train I could finally be in charge of my meal decisions. The attendant brought my pre-ordered meal. As I eagerly leaned over to reach it, my co-passenger stopped me, signaling the server to move on. “Don’t get this, you don’t know if it’s safe. We have lots of food and will make sure you don’t go hungry.” Now, if you are an Indian, this wouldn’t strike you as odd. Encroaching upon someone’s personal space is perfectly acceptable in India; in fact, it translates as concern and love, never mind that this lady and I were strangers. I could either argue or submit. In either case, it was a losing battle, and I chose to obey her orders. She handed me a box of food stuffed with fried pooris, potato sabzi, green mango pickle, and pulao. I cannot lie; it was delicious. They were returning from a wedding and their host had made sure they were well-stocked until they reached their destination. I couldn’t finish it all and saved the leftovers for later. She wasn't done! She brought out an assortment of Indian sweets or, mithai. But of course! It was Indian hospitality at its best. She was prepared, even when on the move. One couldn’t help but surrender to her generosity and forget about the earlier invasion of privacy. 

January 2022

This time I was traveling with my daughter. Familiar for me, all too exciting for her. We had barely left the train station, and within minutes, the attendant arrived with a welcome tray that held hot chai and biscuits, a packaged savory snack, a pastry, and a rose! In the next hour, the tomato soup arrived. It was just as I remembered, spicy and hot, along with the breadsticks! This was a great build-up to the grand finale - the dinner, something that had eluded me for a very long time. It was served on trays, cafeteria style. Each item was individually packed in its own container, labeled, and served steaming hot. There was chicken curry, pulao, daal, parathas, salad, lemon pickle, and yogurt, finished with gulab jamun and little packets of mukhwas, the tiny colorful sugar-coated fennel seeds served in Indian restaurants. Where else would you get such a meal, but on an Indian train? It was full of flavor and packed a punch.

A sense of nostalgia swept over me. Decades had gone by since I was a child, mesmerized by the stimulation these trains provided. And now I could see my daughter enthralled by it. Life had come full circle. 

A nostalgic tray of spicy curries and warm memories, while spanning the country on a train