The Indian food tour began somewhere above Greenland at 37,000 feet.
My tray table became the first stage of a culinary adventure—one that began not in Delhi’s crowded markets, but in a metal tube hurtling across the Atlantic. With three meals spaced over the flight, each one brought its own take on India’s regional flavors, and with a little help from ChatGPT, I’ll begin my educational program.
Meal one: Paneer Hyderabadi.
This dish featured paneer—India’s take on cottage cheese—simmered in a spicy, tangy gravy made from yogurt, tomatoes, and a chorus of aromatic spices: garam masala, coriander, cumin, and, if my taste buds weren’t hallucinating at altitude, a subtle kiss of saffron. It was bold, creamy, and way more memorable than I expected from something served at cruising altitude.
Next came Chicken Biryani.
Aromatic basmati rice layered with marinated chicken and a warming blend of spices like cinnamon, cardamom, cloves, and cumin. The rice was fluffier than expected, the chicken tender-ish, and though it lacked the smoky depth of a real dum biryani, it scratched the itch. A small cup of raita stood loyally on the side, as if to say, “We know this is a lot of spice for economy class.”
The third meal was… something.
A sort of curry burrito, which I didn’t photograph—and in hindsight, maybe that was an act of self-preservation. Some mysteries are better left uneaten.
I’d be lying if I called these airplane meals exquisite, but hunger is a great seasoning. I was satiated and, more importantly, relieved to be consistently fed on such a long flight. Expectations adjusted, I accepted my fate: mildly spiced, foil-wrapped sustenance from here on out.
On landing in Delhi, my first target was Paranthe Wali Gali, a narrow artery tucked into the pulse of Old Delhi’s Chandni Chowk. This street is legendary for its paranthas—flatbreads stuffed with everything from potatoes and paneer to sweet surprises like banana or dried fruit. I’ve read that the fillings are generous, the ghee is unapologetic, and the crowd doesn’t care whether your stomach’s ready or not.
Frankly, as a street food explorer, I expect at least one full day on the toilet.
Hopefully, it won’t be tomorrow.
OOLIN | Hindustan by Backpackers Paradise Hostel, Delhi, India