India's culinary scene is buzzing with a quiet revolution, fueled by a vibrant comeback of hyperlocal ingredients. This movement isn't just about digging up fresh, local produce from across the nation—it's about rediscovering the deep, rich tapestry of India's diverse culinary heritage
For ex-Bombay Canteen food maverick Thomas Zacharias, the journey into hyperlocal ingredients began in 2014, after a formative food trip across Europe.
“My biggest realisation from that trip was that I was focusing so heavily on learning European cuisine when I hadn't really done much to explore Indian food. That was an eye-opener for me,” he recalls. This realisation spurred him to embark on his first ‘Chef on the Road’ trip across India, covering 18 different places and exposing him to a vast array of ingredients he had never encountered before. “What I saw and experienced on this trip really blew my mind because up until then my exposure to Indian food, like for most people, was limited to what the average person gets—what you get in an Indian restaurant or the food you grew up eating.”
The impact of this trip on Zacharias was profound. It was not just the discovery of ingredients like Jakhia seeds in Uttarakhand or Kalari cheese in Jammu that left a mark, but the realisation of how underrepresented these ingredients were in the upper echelons of Indian cuisine. “Even today, it's hardly seen. Yes, we see it in media here and there, and there are publications covering it, but if you actually get down to it and see how many restaurants are featuring local ingredients from different parts of the country, it's very few.”
This limited adoption of local ingredients in high-end culinary settings is something that Zacharias finds troubling. He observes that while some ingredients like makhana, Kachampuli vinegar from Coorg, or dalle chillies from the Northeast have gained popularity, the trend often misses the mark. “If you're going to be using a few of these ingredients and highlighting the fact that you're using local ingredients, but on the same menu or sometimes even on the same dish, you have non-native ingredients like, say, avocado or interesting lettuces, then I feel like the point is lost because then you're just highlighting ingredients that are exciting for you. You're not making a statement about celebrating the diversity of local produce that exists.” Zacharias stresses that what’s missing is diversity and a deeper, more meaningful engagement with local food that goes beyond surface-level trends.
Saransh Goila’s experience, while rooted in similar principles, offers a more everyday perspective. Now famous for his Goila Butter Chicken empire, an introduction to hyperlocal ingredients came through his travels across India for his show, Roti Rasta aur India, which took him on a 20,000-kilometer journey across 60 cities. This trip opened his eyes to the diversity of Indian cuisine in a way that formal culinary education had not. “When I got my opportunity to travel through Roti Rasta India, I realized that I had practically learned nothing about Indian food. Yes, I was experienced in how to run a kitchen, processes, and how to run a team or be a professional chef. But when it came to learning about Indian cuisine for what it is, I felt very cheated overall!”
Goila speaks passionately about the importance of rediscovering these ingredients, which are often overlooked in favor of more familiar European techniques and products. “We were never told about Bandel cheese from Bengal or Kalari cheese from Jammu in culinary school. It took me almost 20-25 days into that journey to unlearn everything and be open to the fact that I was going to learn so many new things.” His journey, much like Zacharias’s, was one of unlearning and relearning, with a focus on embracing the local rather than the imported.
Both chefs are committed to making these ingredients more accessible and appealing to a modern audience. Zacharias, through his work with The Locavore, aims to not just highlight trendy or exotic ingredients but to bring attention to everyday local produce that often goes unnoticed. “Restaurants should highlight even vegetables like tendli, lauki, torai, or karela. It needs to be done with a genuine intention to actually highlight local seasonal produce, especially beginning with the local produce in your own region.” His approach is not just about culinary novelty but about a deeper, more meaningful connection to the land and its produce.
The challenge, however, is in balancing innovation with authenticity. Zacharias explains, “It’s hard enough running a basic menu at a restaurant—it takes a lot out of you because it’s not just creating recipes and putting them on there. There’s a whole bunch of responsibility if you’re a chef and the pressures that come from it.” He emphasises that for someone to genuinely invest in showcasing local food, they need to go beyond trends and engage deeply with the stories and traditions behind these ingredients. “You’ll start listening to these stories about how people talk about how their grandma used to eat this ingredient which doesn’t exist anymore… So, when you expose yourself to these narratives over and over again, it’s inevitable that you would start caring.”
Goila, on the other hand, has observed how social media trends can sometimes drive interest in these hyperlocal ingredients. “I think that is one interesting part about Instagram. While 90 per cent of trends might really be things that I would not keep up with, every now and then you will see some fun trends on IG that will actually make you realise that okay, sometimes there is scope on Instagram as well to promote regional and seasonal delicacies like taar gola.” He notes how ingredients that were once obscure, like tadgola or kantola, have found new life on social media, driven by a generation eager to reconnect with their roots.
However, the challenge of preserving these traditions is compounded by the changing dynamics of how Indians, particularly millennials in Tier 1 cities, engage with food. The rise of delivery apps has led many urban dwellers to become increasingly detached from traditional markets, where a broader range of local produce is available. Goila points out that “a lot of people in terms of what ingredients they are ordering into their homes to cook with, if they are cooking at home, it’s limited to what you’ll find on your delivery apps.” This shift has led to a homogenisation of the ingredients in people’s kitchens, with the same 10-12 items dominating most households.
Zacharias echoes this concern, noting that “these quick delivery service companies are gatekeeping what we're eating… as we get more and more used to the convenience of it, it’s going to be harder to snap out of it and venture out and actually shop.” He emphasises the importance of traditional markets not only as a source of diverse ingredients but also as cultural hubs where local economies thrive and knowledge about food is shared and preserved. Without these markets, he warns, “we are losing a lot really. One of those being the diversity of what we’re eating, and we are going to be restricted to the gatekeepers.”
The reduced exposure to and appreciation for hyperlocal ingredients, driven by the convenience of app-based shopping, is a significant challenge for chefs like Zacharias and Goila. Goila notes that now, when you look into someone’s fridge, “you see the same 10-12 things in everyone’s house.” This limited selection is a stark contrast to the vast array of ingredients that were once common in Indian households, reflecting a broader loss of culinary diversity.
As hyperlocal ingredients continue to gain traction in India’s culinary landscape, chefs like Zacharias and Goila are at the forefront, each bringing their own unique perspective. For Zacharias, it is about elevating everyday ingredients to their rightful place in the culinary world. For Goila, it is about making these ingredients accessible and appealing to a new generation of cooks and eaters. Together, they are helping to shape a future where Indian cuisine is celebrated not just for its diversity, but for its deep connection to the land and its people.