Evolution of First Table at Rashtrapati Bhavan | Economic Times

Australia and India are known for competing, as we saw in the recent, amazing Test series. Yet the two countries can collaborate as well, and one example might happen every Republic Day in diplomatic communities around the world. Embassies and consulates usually celebrate their national days with receptions which other diplomats attend as a courtesy. But this can be a real trial with India’s Republic Day, which comes at the heart of the northern hemisphere’s winter but, as is the convention with Indian state hospitality, no alcohol is served on the occasion. There are dismal stories of diplomats in freezing Scandinavian winters having to sustain themselves on orange juice. Australia now offers an informal solution. It also celebrates January 26 as Australia Day, the anniversary of the arrival, in 1788, of the first fleet of 11 ships from Britain to establish a penal settlement. This is very convenient for diplomats around the world who can visit the Australian party either before or after the Indian event and have a drink. This drinks dilemma highlights how awkward the issue of state hospitality has always been for the modern Indian state. Both the personal legacy of leaders like Mahatma Gandhi and the responsibilities of governing a country where hunger and poverty were rampant inclined the state away from lavish dining as state entertainment. Yet the demands of diplomacy made formal hospitality an imperative. Depending on one’s perspective, this issue was made easier or more complicated by India’s inheritance of an exceptionally opulent venue for hospitality. 80431259The Viceroy’s House, or Rashtrapati Bhavan as it was renamed, was placed by Sir Edwin Lutyens at the heart of his design for New Delhi, and like all palaces it came well equipped for cooking and dining. It combined the ceremonial extravagance perfected by the British as a way to project their power with modern touches like discrete green and red electric lights in the vast banquet room to signal to the staff how to pace the serving of the meals. How Indians grappled with this is the focus of an excellent book, Around India’s First Table, by Lizzie Collingham with Salma Husain, and detailed photography by Dheeraj Paul, which looks at how India dealt with the issue. It starts with the first State Banquet for the Republic, on January 24, 1950, and quotes one guest, Indrani Jagjivan Ram, the wife of politician Jagjivan Ram, asking herself, “How long were Indians going to be proud of adopting British manners…?” But a little later it quotes her daughter Meira Kumar, former Speaker of the Lok Sabha, explaining that “the state banquet should be a positive part of diplomacy”. What changed was a slow process of appropriation, as Indian leaders adapted Rashtrapati Bhavan, and also their own willingness to adopt what it stood for. Rajendra Prasad, the first president, introduced thalis as a practical Indian alternative to the multicourse style known as service à la Russe, from when it was created for the Russian royal court. But the Times of India (ToI) reports that in 1957, with food shortages mounting, he took rice off the menu, replacing it with rotis and bread made of still relatively available wheat. 80431219It took time, but the occupants of Rashtrapati Bhavan slowly changed its practices. The wives of male political leaders are often, not entirely fairly, expected to oversee culinary matters, but those at Rashtrapati Bhavan tended to stay away from this (although a private kitchen was installed for their personal use) until Begum Abida Ahmed, wife of Fakhruddin Ali Ahmed, surprised the chefs by overseeing a banquet for the Shah of Iran. Usha Narayanan, the wife of KR Narayanan, was another spouse who introduced food innovations like mini idlis and vadas as an alternative to the standard pakoras served as snacks. But ToI reports that it was the one bachelor president, APJ Abdul Kalam, who introduced karela, a desi vegetable rarely seen in formal dining. There are details from the Raj period. Peter Coats, a British officer who was aidede-camp to General Wavell, would become comptroller, the head of management of the palace, including the kitchens, when Wavell became viceroy. He is credited with improving the food to such an extent that an appreciative general suggested he get the Star of India honour for it. 80431276Another detail is that the position of comptroller was created because Lord Reading decided against the then standard practice of employing a European chef as head of the kitchens. Such a chef, he felt, would insist on having Indian chefs as servants, and would end up doing little work. So the kitchens have always had only Indian chefs, reporting to the comptroller of the household. The book has recipes but, oddly enough, not for the Dal Raisina, which has been touted as a presidential specialty. But there is a Rashtrapati Bhavan ginger biscuit recipe that nicely shows how British traditions have been Indianised — instead of butter and treacle, the recipe now uses ghee and jaggery syrup. Credit is given to chefs from Indian princely states, like Hyderabad, who brought their expertise in formal Indian food, and to halwais, whose Indian sweets were so much in demand that a separate halwai kitchen was created for them, away from the colder temperatures needed for the main pastry kitchen. Despite the many adaptations that enabled Rashtrapati Bhavan hospitality to become Indian, the one rule that remains is against alcohol. India now produces wines and spirits that are certainly worth serving there, but it doesn’t seem likely they will make it to the nation’s “First Table”. Without friendly Australians at hand, the accommodation seems to be that the Ministry of External Affairs provides alcohol in the private suites for foreign guests, and one can only hope that Indian products feature there.