How caste shaped the rise of Maharajs in Indian kitchens

Economic Times

4 days ago

Synopsis
The tradition of employing Brahmin cooks, or maharajs, in wealthy Indian households has roots in caste-based notions of purity and the need to protect social status. In 19th-century Calcutta, fears of food being 'contaminated' by lower-caste cooks boosted the demand for Brahmins in kitchens, especially among business communities wary of social sabotage. Over time, these cooks became fixtures in Gujarati and Marwari homes, later following traders abroad to cater to strict vegetarian diets in hubs like Antwerp.
The Social Hierarchies That Fed India's Maharaj Tradition When scammers today target a food business, they plant a bone in a vegetarian dish and try to blackmail on that basis. In 19thcentury Calcutta, their equivalent was bhoj pandeys , feast spoilers, who would threaten to come to a big community feast, like a wedding, and spread rumours that the food was made by low-caste cooks. Those who ate it would feel the need for purification, while the hosts would lose community status.
This story, quoted in Swapna M Banerjee's book Men, Women & Domestics — from an original account in Mahandranath Dutta's Kolikatar Puratan — explains how Brahmin cooks got a boost. They had long existed in temples and royal courts, thanks to the logic of caste hierarchies: If food made by lower castes was seen as impure, the safest option was having a cook from the highest caste.
Business communities were acutely aware how their wealth made them targets. This, rather than an obsession with caste, was what led to Brahmin cooks becoming fixtures in their kitchens. In Gujarati families, they were called maharaj , a termusually seen as connoting respect, but possibly with some irony as well. Like the pandits employed to run their home temples, the caste status of the cooks earned them respect, but the businessmen ensured that they knew they were employees as well.There was an echo of this in a recent social media post by an employer in Mumbai marvelling at her maharaj's productivity. She wrote that he charged her ₹18,000 per month for half-anhour's work every day, and that he managed to work at 10-12 houses daily, getting free food in the process. The implication was that he made nearly ₹2 lakh profit a month, which might match the salary of many employers. A friend with connections to the maharaj network is sceptical. She says it's more likely to be around ₹12,000 a month, with an hour per house though only two-three times per week. A maharaj would be fine with five regular clients and did not expect to get free food and chai. Rent and transport in a city like Mumbai was a significant cost, so while it was a decent job, it was far from the highly desirable one described.The real hope for most maharajs is a job abroad, with significantly increased pay and a place to stay with the employer. Cooks have always followed traders, for reasons of convenience as much as caste. In an unfamiliar place, with wives left in their hometowns, feeding oneself comfortably was a challenge and expensive. Vegetarians, like Gujaratis and Marwaris, faced particular problems. Traders usually learned a few basic recipes, but as they became more established, it was easier to sponsor a maharaj to join them.Diamond traders are particularly known for employing maharajs — at least, according to embittered Gujarati families in India, who have lost out as employers. Some of the most lavish Gujarati food in the world is said to be served in Antwerp, the global diamond trading hub. These globetrotting maharajs havediversified their repertoire, now making food from around the world, adapted to the dietary requirements and tastes of their employers. The most successful ones have started catering businesses or restaurants.Yet, for all their success, it's questionable how many maharajs want their sons to follow them (and the fact that only sons can qualify underlines the gender, as well as caste, problems with the profession). If demand stays strong, some norms might get relaxed, and Banerjee's book documents how this happened in Calcutta. When demand for Bengali Brahmin cooks outstripped the supply, Odia Brahmins were substituted — until this supply also ran dry. A scheme was then devised by an unscrupulous Brahmin to teach non-Brahmins some recipes and shlokas and pass them off as high-caste cooks. Kitchens, it seems, can also be places to help cook up caste.