For children: Khichdi, mulligatawny soup, and other culinary gifts from India to the world

Khichdi

New Delhi, India Jul 11, 2026 ALN: When your body needs comfort, it’s time to feed it some khichdi. Not the kind made in Emperor Akbar’s royal kitchen with equal amounts of rice, lentils, and ghee, but the one prescribed by Ayurveda, with rice, lentils, and just a dash of ghee and spices. We’re talking about that melt-in-the-mouth, ghee-topped, warm food that you can spoon into your mouth on a cold day or when you have a cold or are unwell. It is easy on the palate, easy on the stomach, and totally healthy. Chanakya, the author of Arthashastra, suggested a very precise recipe: 1 prastha rice, 1/4 prastha lentil, 1/62 prastha salt, and 1/6 prastha ghee. Cook it to a mush with water (oh no, he forgot to mention how many prastha of that!). Called khicca in Sanskrit, it has been eaten in India for at least 3,000 years.

Many travelers to India have been smitten by the humble khichdi. Moroccan traveler Ibn Battuta wrote in the 14th century that in India, people ate kishri. The basic dish involves dry roasting moong dal and cooking it with rice, with just a bit of cumin and black pepper. Each part of the country and each family has its own variation to this mix, adding different things to the pot. Bengal has its bhoger khichuri, rich with seasonal vegetables. Tamil Nadu has its pongal, which is also the ceremonial dish made with newly harvested rice and lentils for the festival of Pongal. Both savory and sweet pongals are made.

One of the earliest Europeans to travel to India after Italy’s Niccolò de’ Conti was the Russian Afanasy Nikitin. He visited India around 1470 and wrote in his book A Journey Beyond the Three Seas (can you name these three seas?) how precious horses were in India and how they were fed khichdi, made with sugar and ghee. Francisco Pelsaert, a Dutch businessman, made detailed notes about the food of India when he lived in Agra between 1620 and 1627. He, too, wrote in great detail about India’s trade, rulers, religions, and way of life in his book Remonstrantie (published as Jahangir’s India). In the chapter “The Manner of Life,” he wrote about the monotonous food that the common people ate, sometimes “nothing but a little ‘khichri’ made of ‘green pulse’ mixed with rice.” The ruler of Agra at that time, Jahangir, is believed to have elevated that common dish to something rich called lazeezan—by adding dry fruits and more spices.

The British recognized the goodness of khichdi and tried a variation. Back in England, they substituted the lentils with boiled eggs and a fish of their region, haddock. Voilà, the khichdi was now the porridge called kedgeree. This dish became a staple in British cuisine, showcasing how cultural exchanges can lead to the evolution of food. Kedgeree is now often served as a breakfast dish in the UK, demonstrating the adaptability of khichdi across different culinary traditions.

Indian khichdi is a dish that is now available all over the world. The Ayurvedic khicca may have had just three main ingredients, but an Indian restaurant in Dubai has become popular for serving a khichdi made with 20 ingredients procured from 20 different states and served on an India-shaped plate. This modern interpretation reflects the globalization of Indian cuisine, where traditional recipes are reimagined to cater to diverse palates while still honoring their roots.

Mulligatawny Soup

What does Charles Dickens have to do with a spicy hot soup born in India? He owned and edited a magazine called All the Year Round in which his own story A Tale of Two Cities was serialized. The August 1868 issue of the magazine carried a recipe for mulligatawny soup. “Take two quarts of water, my lord, and boil a fowl; then add to it a whole white onion…” This excerpt highlights the blend of culinary cultures that took place during the British colonial period, where Indian ingredients and cooking methods were introduced to British households.

Mulligatawny soup gets its name from the humble milagu thanneer, Tamil for pepper water. In South India, rasam is an everyday dish, made by boiling tamarind and other ingredients in thanneer, also called thanni. One of them is the basic pepper rasam made with tamarind, tomatoes, salt, and pepper, and garnished with mustard, asafoetida, and curry leaves. Best served hot with freshly made rice and a dollop of ghee, this is comfort food that is good for the digestive system and for the days when you have a cold, a cough, or a sore throat. The health benefits of this dish, particularly its soothing properties, have made it a staple in many Indian households.

The British used this hot soup as a digestive before or after a meal. But since the local way of having it was too fiery for their palate, they adapted it with additions of their own. They added “onions browned gently in some butter.” Soon, other things went into the pot; one recipe suggested “young rabbit,” while others recommended adding ham, beef, bacon, or specific parts like a head, a knee, or a heel. The first recorded mention of the word “mulligatawny” was in 1784, according to Hobson-Jobson: A Glossary of Colloquial Anglo-Indian Words and Phrases. This evolution of the dish illustrates how culinary practices adapt and change based on the availability of ingredients and the preferences of those preparing the food.

One of the earliest recipes may have been that of Scottish woman Stephana Malcolm. Her beautifully handwritten book of 1791 is still preserved in a digital archive of the National Library of Scotland. She learned the intricacies of Indian recipes from her brothers who worked for the East India Company in India. When the members of the East India Company went back to England from Madras, they spread the word about this easy and nourishing soup. By the 1850s, mulligatawny sauce was available in tins, and the merchants carried them all the way to Africa. After some years, mulligatawny was also available as a soup mix, further demonstrating its popularity and adaptability.

Mulligatawny was so popular in the Madras Presidency that a Britisher who served there earned the nickname Mull. (By the way, a Britisher serving in Bengal was called Qui-hi from the Hindustani phrase “koi hai?”, and his contemporary in Bombay [now Mumbai] was called a Duck, after the fish Bombay Duck.) The humble milagu thanni went through many alterations and was even served in high and mighty dinners as “Potage de Madras” or “Consommé à l’indienne.” It made it to many parts of the world, including popular TV shows in America, further embedding it into the culinary fabric of diverse cultures.

Both khichdi and mulligatawny soup exemplify the rich culinary heritage of India and its ability to adapt and evolve through cultural exchanges. These dishes not only provide comfort and nourishment but also serve as a reminder of the interconnectedness of global cuisines. As they continue to gain popularity worldwide, they highlight the importance of preserving traditional recipes while embracing innovation and creativity in the kitchen.

Excerpted with permission from Travelling Treasures 2.0: 75 Incredible Tales of Things India Gave to the World, Mala Kumar, Hachette India.