A fish or mutton thali on a deeply observed day
may leave you the lone carnivore
in a room full of the devout.
It’s beautiful how, in just a few verses, Sumedha Raikar Mhatre, transforms an everyday meal experience into a reflection on identity. Traversing Khandesh, Konkan, Vidarbha and Marathwada, the writer, translator, and theatre critic’s poems draw from the writings of saints, examine the intersections of food, caste, and social history, and question ideas of authenticity as cuisines evolve through migration and exchange.
Thalipeeth and Gavran Thali
A State at the Table (Bookleaf Publishing) is more than a collection of poems about food. Across 21 free-verse poems, Raikar Mhatre journeys through Maharashtra’s kitchens, landscapes and memories, she uses food as a lens to explore the state’s layered identity, history, faith and cultural memory.
Masala Crab
This is a small offshoot of a larger book project on Marathi identity that Raikar Mhatre has been working on over the past year. She partly credits her culture column at mid-day, which enabled her to engage deeply with Maharashtra’s cultural ecosystem for 14 years. It led her to its history, and food offered an intimate entry point. “So much of our public life is reflected in it; Maharashtra politics has often revolved around food and rations.”
Food meets poetry
The book also explores how culinary cultures have evolved across the region
While Raikar Mhatre didn’t consciously choose free verse, the form emerged through the subject. “Poetry is already present in food. Look at Maswadi, Solkadhi, Dadpe Pohe, Kombdi Vade, Bhel Bhatta, Ghavan, Unde, Thalipeeth, Amti or Zunka. Each holds rhythm, patience, proportion, symmetry and instinct. There is a certain metre, a bhaav, to cooking. Food rarely exists as information; it arrives as feeling. The anticipation of Redkar’s Paplet Thali in Vengurla; the whiff of Saoji Bhaji in a tiny Umred eatery; a strawberry dessert in Mahabaleshwar or Tomato-Sev Curry in Jalgaon — all experiences are suitable to verse. I owe these poems to Maharashtra, its terrain, seasons and landscapes. From Pratapgad to Kaas Pathar, Melghat to Wada, and Madhi to Bhimashankar, I encountered food — and moved beyond the edible to as a way of seeing a place and connecting with its people.”
A menu board at a lunch home
She believes the problem arises when an entire cuisine is reduced to a handful of familiar dishes. “The state is too large and varied to be gauged through Sabudana Khichadi and Bakharwadi. Every region, from Khandesh and Varhad to Tal Konkan, has its own ingredients, techniques and food memories. Maharashtrians don’t always do enough to champion this diversity. Some of my most memorable meals have been in small eateries, home kitchens and family-run establishments. I hope the book nudges people to go beyond the obvious,” she reminds us.
Sumedha Raikar Mhatre
Going traditional
Blurred Borders is among Raikar Mhatre’s favourite poems. It made her more cognisant about purported ideas of authenticity. “We often speak as though there is a clear line between rural and urban, traditional and modern, local and outside influence. But when I travelled, those boundaries felt far more porous. Across Maharashtra, restaurants advertised with ‘Gavran Jevan’ (village-style fare) signboards, while serving Chicken Lollipops, Vegetarian Manchurian, and Dal Makhni. Traditional sweets like Anarsa are disappearing because few possess the skills to make them, while it’s easy to spot desserts like Malai Sandwich on Maharashtrian wedding menus. Cultures borrow, adapt and evolve. What interests me is that we debate identity passionately but pay little attention to our everyday food traditions, including beverages and sweets. The poem [Blurred Borders] grew from that tension – to not redraw boundaries, but to ask whether we notice how they’ve already shifted.”
Questions about food led Raikar Mhatre to larger debates about Maharashtra. “We argue about identity, yet do we fully grasp what we are trying to preserve, promote or pass on? Are we hurt by the disappearance of the trademark cotton Induri saree? Do we reminisce about the Diwali anks that no longer define our festive faraal? Mumbai is one of the world’s great migrant cities. New people, ideas, foods and habits emerge continuously, enriching the state.”
She feels that the answer doesn’t lie in resisting change, “Our state has always evolved through exchange. But the challenge is to create more spaces where local cultures, languages and food traditions are understood, celebrated and shared with confidence. Maharashtrians need to articulate their culture with greater clarity and generosity, without fearing that every effort will be labelled narrow or nativist.”
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