- HOMEGROWN WORLD
- #HGCREATORS
- #HGEXPLORE
- #HGVOICES
- #HGSHOP
- CAREERS
- ABOUT US
- CONTACT US
I’d visited Lucknow when I was very young for a wedding, and unfortunately, I was in that phase of my life where I was an insufferably picky eater. So, I watched my cousins and parents eat what they still describe as some of the best food of their lives, while I sulked, moaned, and ate curd rice in our hotel room.
Many years have passed since then, and my food palate has changed and expanded — for the better. These days, I centre most of my life around food. I kick myself almost every day for not eating the food in Lucknow. Food, after all, serves as a history lesson, a cultural snapshot of a community — and it’s also just really, really good.
This weekend, UNESCO announced Lucknow as a Creative City of Gastronomy. With this announcement, Lucknow has been added to the list of 408 Creative Cities across 100 countries, which previously included only Hyderabad from India. From the grandeur of the Bara Imambara to the delicate artistry of chikankari embroidery, Lucknow’s traditions have long mingled with local influences to create the city’s distinct Ganga-Jamuni tehzeeb.
Lucknow’s tryst with gastronomy goes back to the 18th century, when the city was under the rule of the Nawabs of Awadh, who brought with them a confluence of Persian, Central Asian, and Arabic influences that transformed the fabric of local cuisine. The khansamas (royal chefs) treated cooking as an art form — slow, meticulous, and refined — creating what we now know as Awadhi cuisine.
Cooking in Lucknow is passed down like an heirloom. Most of the prestigious joints serving authentic Awadhi food still follow in the footsteps of their ancestors. From the Tunde Kebab, reportedly made with 160 spices, to the Kakori Kebab grilled to perfection over charcoal, Lucknow is the Mecca of roasted meat dishes. I remember walking through the streets of the city, and even though I didn’t partake in the eating, the aromas are etched in my mind — the smell of charcoal burning, the crackle of meat as it hits the griddle, and the scent of a place doing its very best to preserve and honour where it came from, and the people who brought it there.
The one thing I did end up eating, begrudgingly, was the biryani — the yakhni biryani, or pulao, as they call it in Lucknow. And god, I’m glad I did. That first bite felt like a revelation, like I had accidentally stumbled upon heaven on a plate. Cooked in a fragrant stock of meat, spices, and aromatics, the rice absorbs every ounce of flavour, resulting in something delicate yet deeply rich. The rice was fragrant and light, every grain separate, perfumed with saffron and the slow-simmered broth of tender chicken — and my mouth is watering as I write this.
It’s the kind of food that doesn’t just aim to feed you, but to tell you something about the people who made it, the place it was born in, and the rhythm of life that sustains it. Which is why Lucknow being named a Creative City of Gastronomy just makes sense — the city is finally getting the global recognition it has always deserved. I hate that I couldn’t enjoy it when it was all laid out in front of me, but I hope to return one day — to eat, savour, and truly devour the city for all that it has to offer.
