The living hills: The culinary soul of Meghalaya
High in the clouds of India's northeast lies Meghalaya, a land where mist drifts through valleys, villages and towns and forested mountains grace the landscape. Known as the Abode of Clouds, this picturesque state also hosts the periphery of the Indian monsoons; the heavy rainfall causing rivers to carve their way through limestone caverns older than recorded history. The emerald hills of Khasi, Jaintia, and Garo territories cradle forests dense with pine and wild citrus, while waterfalls tumble down sheer cliffs in awe inspiring spectacles. Cherrapunji and Mawsynram, record possibly the heaviest rains on earth and slopes are terraced with paddy that gleam in the sunshine. Though Meghalaya became a state only in 1972, its cultural and culinary roots extend far beyond its present borders, shaped by tribes whose histories are tied to the land's rugged terrain, forests, and ancient trade paths that once connected these highlands to the Brahmaputra valley and the plains of Sylhet.
Archaeological discoveries testify to human presence since prehistoric times, with monoliths at Nartiang and the stone alignments of Khasi villages suggesting a civilisation hosting its own unique culture and rituals. These upright stones, erected to honour ancestors, reflect a societal structure grounded in clan traditions and matrilineal inheritance. Later, political systems were developed, especially among the Khasi, Jaintia and Garo tribes, called Syiem and Hima which constituted indigenous forms of democratic governance. Mostly autonomous political units, much like a chiefdom or a small kingdom, they had hereditary chiefs but their power was not absolute and they ruled with the consent of a council. The Jaintia kingdom, of the 16th century with its capital at Nartiang and later Jaintiapur, was more adventurous and developed maritime links through the Surma river corridor, engaging in trade with Bengal and beyond. Their influence spread across the hills until the British annexed the kingdom in 1835, ushering in a period of administrative restructuring that altered political structures but could not disrupt the deep cultural bonds of the indigenous communities. Many Hima and Syiemships survive to this day under the Sixth Schedule of the Indian Constitution.
In the western hills, the Garos, believed to have migrated centuries earlier from the Tibetan plateau, nurtured a distinct cultural world anchored in animistic rituals and communal farming. Their villages, known as nokpante clusters, were built on hilltops for security and proximity to fertile slopes. Across Meghalaya's communities, the colonial period brought new roads, policies, and economic patterns, yet the hills remained resilient. The people preserved their identity in language, song, craft, and food, carrying forward the customs that defined their relationship with the land. The attainment of statehood in 1972 marked not merely a political milestone but an acknowledgment of cultural unity among tribes whose histories, though distinct, share an enduring relationship with their lands.
Religion in Meghalaya is a tapestry woven from indigenous faiths, ancestral reverence, and nature worship. Before the spread of Christianity in the 19th century, the Khasis followed Ka Niam Khasi and U Blei Nongthawa, belief systems deeply rooted in the divinity of nature and ancestry prescribing that God can only be sought through moral action and respect for family, community and nature. Rituals honour ‘U Basa,’ the protector spirits watching over villages, and ceremonies often take place in sacred groves called law kyntang, where no trees are cut and no leaf disturbed without purpose. These groves, preserved for centuries, are living temples that echo with chants during festivals. The Behdeinkhlam, a festival seeking protection against illness and misfortune continues to this day. Wooden poles, richly carved and painted, are carried through the town before being immersed in water, symbolising renewal and community strength. The Garos follow Songsarek beliefs, honouring spirits who inhabit forests, rivers, and mountains, and perform rituals during Wangala, the harvest festival dedicated to the Sun God. These festivals are marked by drums reverberating across hills as dancers sway in unison, celebrating new harvests and the bounties of nature.
As Christianity spread through missionary work in the 19th and early 20th centuries, many Khasis, Jaintias, and Garos embraced the new faith while retaining elements of their ancestral customs. Churches now coexist with monoliths, and hymns sung in Khasi or Garo borrow from the music of traditional systems. Yet the connection between spirituality and nature remains unbroken. This interwoven spirituality shapes daily life and food alike, for in Meghalaya, cuisine is not merely nourishment but an expression of respect and gratitude that binds families, clans, and generations.
The cuisine of Meghalaya is known for its simplicity, freshness, and familiarity with the local terrain. Each tribal region carries its own culinary signature, shaped by climate and vegetation. In the Khasi hills, stretching across central and eastern Meghalaya, cuisine relies primarily on jhur (mustard greens), ja stem (red rice), sohiong (wild berries), and the aroma of lai (leafy vegetables). Cooking methods revolve around boiling, steaming, smoking, and slow roasting over fire, allowing ingredients to reveal their inherent flavours. Among the most beloved dishes is jadoh, a fragrant rice preparation cooked with doh sniang (pork) and seasoned with haldi (turmeric), adrak (ginger), and lehsun (garlic) during festive gatherings. Jadoh is served with a side of tungtap, a pungent chutney of fermented fish pounded with mirch (chilli) and salt until it forms a coarse paste with an intense aroma. Another Khasi delicacy is doh jem, a dish made by boiling pork with lai, pyaaz (onion), and a hint of black sesame that imparts a rich earthy tone. For lighter meals, Khasis prepare tungrymbai, a fermented soybean paste braised with pyaaz, adrak, and hara mirch (green chilli), and cooked slowly making it an ideal accompaniment to steamed rice.
Vegetables hold a cherished place in Khasi cuisine, with local produce forming the foundation of daily meals. Jhur sdieh, a preparation of mustard greens cooked with kali mirch (black pepper) and a splash of tamarind water, is served warm with ja stem (turmeric rice) during evenings when the air gets cooler and the fog drifts in. Sohliya, a traditional salad made from boiled potatoes, lai, and dried fish, tossed with salt, mustard oil, and hara dhaniya (coriander), reflects the region's skill in balancing freshness with gentle heat. Seasonal fruits like sohshang (wild sour fruit) and sohphlang (white tuber eaten raw with sesame and salt), offer a healthy repast after long walks through the hills. Sweet dishes are rare but cherished. Pukhlein, a Khasi delicacy, is prepared from chawal (rice) flour mixed with gur (jaggery) syrup and deep-fried until golden, creating a crisp exterior with a soft, sweet centre. During festivals and family gatherings, pukhlein is served with chai brewed from local herbs or alongside savoury items to balance flavours.
Moving eastward, the Jaintia hills carry a cuisine influenced by their proximity to the plains of Assam and Sylhet, creating flavours that weave together highland freshness and valley abundance. Jaintia dishes often employ bamboo shoots, sesame seeds, black pepper, and fish sourced from local streams. A signature preparation is kyat, a fermented rice beverage used both for ritual and refreshment. Ja doh snam, a ceremonial rice dish cooked in earthen pots with herbs, exemplifies the distinctive character of Jaintia feasts. The region makes generous use of sohbekeh, a sour herb added to curries to enhance tanginess without overpowering the dish. One of the most beloved meals in Jaintia homes is doh sniang neiiong, pork cooked with neiiong (black sesame), pyaaz, and adrak until it forms a thick, aromatic gravy. The nuttiness of neiiong gives the dish a depth unmatched by ordinary spices. Sabzi preparations like dieng sohshang, a combination of wild berries cooked with potatoes and lai, blend sweet, sour, and savoury tastes, reflecting the Jaintia instinct for balancing flavours.
Jaintia households also prepare shyep, a fermented fish condiment similar to tungtap but milder, served with ja stem or boiled tapioca. Bamboo shoot curries, known as soh khleh thympew, comprises tender shoots sliced thin and cooked with dal and hara mirch to create a light broth ideal for cold evenings. Sweet offerings like ja mo, a rice pudding cooked with coconut milk and gur, are made during festivals or shared among neighbours to mark the end of harvest. These dishes carry forward a tradition that values community, careful preparation, and an appreciation for natural ingredients.
In the western hills lie the Garo regions, where dense forests, fertile slopes and bountiful rivers mark the landscape. Garo cuisine is dominated by smoked, dried, and roasted foods, reflecting both climate and cultural preference. Fish and meat are often dried over firewood, giving them a smoky character that forms the basis of many dishes. Nakham, dried fish, is boiled with lai, adrak, lehsun, and hara mirch to create nakham jhakot, a soup believed to warm and strengthen the body during winter months. Another cherished dish is wak pulo, pork cooked with crushed sesame, pumpkin, and pyaaz until tender. Its flavours reflect the earthiness of Garo soils and the generosity of harvest seasons. Garos often prepare dimte, a slow-cooked pork stew simmered with ginger leaves, sesame, and yam. The cooking takes hours, and the aroma that fills the kitchen is an invitation for family members to gather around in firelit rooms for their traditional meals.
Vegetarian fare in Garo households includes minil songa, a preparation of local rice steamed in bamboo tubes, and ninggrika, a curry made from mashed yam mixed with hara dhaniya and roasted sesame. Seasonal produce like pumpkin flowers, wild mushrooms, and fern shoots make their way into simple dishes cooked with mustard oil and a pinch of salt. Sweet dishes usually are prepared during festivals such as Wangala, where preparations like sakkin, a sticky rice cake steamed in leaves and sweetened with sugar or coconut, are shared with families and friends. The use of natural packaging like leaves and bamboo reflects an indigenous knowledge system that values sustainability and environmental harmony.
Despite regional differences, Meghalaya's cuisines share a deep respect for local ingredients with minimal reliance on excessive spices. Smoke, fermentation, and freshness are the culinary hallmarks, creating flavours that are simple and in harmony with local ecosystems. Meals often centre around ja stem or ja tsoh, accompanied by pickles of soh perfume, bamboo shoot, or ginger, and paired with local beverages brewed from rice or herbs. Cooking techniques ensure nutrition is retained, and ingredients are sourced seasonally, reflecting a living tradition of ecological responsibility. Modern cafes in Shillong now reinterpret these flavours, serving tungtap-infused dips, pukhlein pancakes, and bamboo shoot soups with contemporary styles of presentation. Yet even in urban homes, the essence remains similar to the hills, the rain, and the ancestral wisdom that guides local kitchens.
In Meghalaya, cuisine is more than sustenance. It is heritage, memory, and identity woven into daily life. The gentle boiling of pork in earthen pots, the fermenting of soybeans in bamboo baskets, the roasting of sesame on iron pans, and the careful tending of sacred groves where edible plants grow undisturbed are all acts that connect present generations to their ancestors. With rapid urbanisation and processed foods entering markets, the original flavours of Meghalaya stand as reminders of the bond between land and community. These delicacies embody centuries of tradition and skills influenced by rainfall, forest, and faith, offering a cuisine that is both celebratory and nourishing. Preserving this culinary heritage is not simply an obligation but a commitment to safeguarding the history and skill that goes into each recipe. It invites future generations to taste the wisdom of their elders, to honour the land that sustains them, and to keep alive the spirit of a culture that has flourished for centuries in the clouds of Meghalaya.
(The writer is Secretary, Cuisine India Society); views are personal
