In Bengal, where Durga is welcomed each autumn like a daughter returning to her parents’ home, the festival is celebrated as much at the dining table as at the pandal. A festive Bengali meal follows an old order, opening with the gentle bitterness of shukto and moving through fish, meat and rice before ending on a spoonful of mishti doi.
This Puja, that old order finds its way to Varq at Taj Mahal, New Delhi, where Chef Kaushik Mishra, Area Executive Chef, Uttarakhand and Uttar Pradesh & Executive Chef, Taj Mahal, New Delhi, has put together ‘Bounties From Bengal’, a set course menu that runs from macher jhol and alu posto to kosha mangsho, and closes with sandesh and payesh.
Bengali cuisine, says the chef, “carries an enduring sense of nostalgia, shaped by seasonal produce, aromatic ingredients and culinary traditions passed down through generations.” He finds its charm in how little it shows off. “What I value most about Bengali cooking is its inherent balance and restraint. Mustard oil, poppy seeds, green chillies and ginger each contribute their own character, allowing the principal ingredient to remain at the forefront,” he says. “Authenticity often rests in the finer details, from the freshness of the fish and the proportion of spices to the techniques that shape a dish.”
Fish, Puchka and Faith: How Bengal Celebrates Pujo
In north India, Navratri is kept through the kitchen, as families fast for nine days on kuttu puri, sabudana khichdi and makhana kheer, keep onion and garlic away, and close the vrat on Ashtami or Navami with halwa, puri and kale chane for the young girls at kanya pujan. Bengal marks the same days by welcoming Durga home like a married daughter on her yearly visit, and no Bengali mother lets a daughter leave hungry. Pandal crowds eat egg rolls, mughlai paratha, biryani and puchka till well past midnight, carry home boxes of rosogolla, sandesh and mishti doi, and still sit on the floor for khichuri, labra and payesh at the Ashtami bhog. On Dashami, when the goddess leaves, the streets ring with “Ashche bochor abar hobe”, she will come again next year. Both traditions, in the end, cook for the goddess.
Recipe Highlight
Kosha Mangsho
The name tells the story of the dish. ‘Kosha’ comes from koshano, the Bengali way of slowly frying meat and masala in a kadai until the oil separates and the gravy turns a deep brown around each piece, a task that in many homes falls to the most patient cook in the family when relatives gather for Ashtami and Navami lunches of luchi and mangsho. “The beauty of the dish lies in the patience it demands,” says Chef Kaushik Mishra, who sees it as a preparation that brings “both indulgence and familiarity to the Bengali table.”