

Vernika Awal
Deputy Editor
For all of us who’ve grown up in India, before liberalisation changed the way our country functioned, in the early 90s, eating out and being part of a ‘club’ was a thing for the elites. The colonial-era sports clubs were modelled on the famous gentlemen’s clubs of London, such as Athenaeum Club or The Whites.
In India, the equivalent – or perhaps even more elite – were the ‘gymkhanas’ of the metropolitan hubs.
These Gymkhanas came to being in the British Raj, and was a place for socialising, food and sports for the officers of The Raj and some select Anglo-Indians. The term ‘gymkhana’ itself came from the Persian word, Jamaat-khana.

What makes these venues so special is of course the aura of exclusivity and closed-door community that members enjoy. But, beyond this, one thing that has always intrigued me about gymkhanas is the thought that they put behind the food that they serve.
From the evergreen ‘club sandwich’, fish and chips, chili cheese toasts, and the ‘club Chinese’ – one can say that the club fare is a cuisine in its own right! I, for one, love to indulge in the occasional honey and fig ice-cream or a heady Bloody Mary at Delhi’s India International Centre – one such members-only club.
In Mumbai’s Ripon Club, which also happens to be a Parsi-only club, one can see members – young and old – beelining for the Mutton Dhansak and Pulao-dar on Wednesdays and Fridays. Even if you are unfamiliar with Parsi cuisine, you are likely to recognise dhansak. The dish — which is achieved by simmering meat, lentils, and vegetables and is usually served with caramelised rice, tiny kababs, and heaps of kachumber.
While one may argue that the restricted access to these clubs has kept many away from experiencing the community experience that they stand for, one can’t deny the charm to these places, that have stood the test of time. If you’d want to know more about Ripon Club and catch a glimpse of its beautiful interiors and food, you wouldn’t want to miss our feature piece on it.
Continuing on this vein – and yet not, what if I tell you that there are chefs today who are taking a feather from the nostalgia of Indian cuisines and serving what is known as ‘modern Indian’ or ‘progressive Indian’ food – while keeping the soul of the dishes intact?
You see, there’s drama and a moment of suspense too, but at its heart stands the advent of a cuisine that is evolved, mature, ready for global palates, and essentially an evolution of everything that ‘Indian food’ has stood for in the world. Today, modern Indian cuisine is no longer only about traditions — it is an eclectic combination of what a chef envisions his dish to be. In the process, today’s creations involve precision and art on a plate, a representation of India’s food that has never been seen before. Intrigued? We’d take this chance to direct you to this weekend read about what makes a modern take on our cuisine.
With that, we sign off as the air rings of the joyous winters. Over the next week, we’ll be bringing you all things bright and beautiful, because ‘tis the season to be merry! Have a joyous weekend and month, dear readers!