05 July,2026 09:13 AM IST | Mumbai | Nasrin Modak Siddiqi
MSK’s Uncharted India Vol 1: Eating with Bengal, Sundarbans edition by Amar Khamar Sundarbans. Pics/MSK
The drive to Magazine Street Kitchen (MSK) in Darukhana, Reay Road, feels like a journey into a different Mumbai, one sans cafes and boutiques, where the city's gleaming skyline slowly gives way to ship-breaking yards, ageing warehouses and rusting docks. Tucked away in this rugged industrial quarter for 10 years, the former Magazine St Kitchen has been relaunched with a new identity, expanded programming and a renewed vision that positions it as more than a dining destination. Alongside an intimate chef's table, the space now brings together collaborative pop-ups, regional food explorations, workshops, residencies and live cultural programming under one roof.
We were here for the Uncharted India Vol 1: Eating with Bengal, Sundarbans edition by Amar Khamar: A 14-course experiential dinner. Founded in 2019 by Sujoy Chatterjee and Sarah Gekeler, Amar Khamar is a Bengal-based initiative dedicated to preserving heritage grains, indigenous farming practices and regional food traditions by working directly with small farmers. It brings forgotten rice varieties and locally rooted ingredients back to the table while reconnecting diners with the stories behind their food.
Their Eating with Bengal series is about the food of the state, with an ingredient-forward approach. "People often assume Bengal is only about fish, but at home we say dal bhat, not machh bhat. That says something about our food culture. Bengali cuisine is subtle and layered, shaped by centuries of exchange. The Dutch, the French, the British, the Mughals, the Chinese and many others left their mark on the region, and those influences found their way into our kitchens."
This meal we had, focused on the Sundarbans, and for Chatterjee, it was about going back to where it all began. The first time he created this menu, author Amitav Ghosh praised it extensively on his social media. Chatterjee tells Sunday mid-day that the idea stemmed from a visit to the Sundarbans where he ate a meal that featured three different varieties of rice, each with its own name and identity.
"That stayed with me and made me think if there was a way to help preserve these varieties, work closely with farmers, and bring them back into public consciousness. When most people think of the Sundarbans, they immediately think of the Royal Bengal Tiger or the mangrove forests. But there are also nearly five million people living there, farming, fishing, and building their lives in one of the country's most fragile ecosystems. Some of our most talented farming households come from this region. Our menu development is always collaborative. We discuss the seasons, what's growing, and what stories those ingredients can tell. While people often speak about âfarm-to-table,' for us, it's also about knowing which farm and farmer produced the ingredients. We want to reconnect people with where it truly begins. The menu also draws on local folklore, referencing Bonbibi, the guardian deity of the Sundarbans, and Dakshin Rai, the mythical tiger spirit. These stories have protected and guided forest communities for generations," he adds.
For Chatterjee, the idea of Amar Khamar was inspired by how different parts of the world celebrate agricultural heritage. "When you think about wine or cheese, people recognise regions, varieties and producers. Through my travels, I saw how seriously those traditions were preserved. Rice is a shared heritage across much of India, not just Bengal. We wanted to show that there is no such thing as simply white steamed rice. Every variety has a history, a name, a flavour and a purpose. Somewhere along the way, we simplified everything to fit supermarket shelves, and in doing so, we lost that connection.
Different dishes require different kinds of rice. "If you're making a broth, you need a rice that releases starch beautifully. If you're cooking a pulao, you need one that stays separate yet carries flavour. Our role is to help people make those choices. So we began working with small farmers who were still cultivating these traditional varieties. We committed to buying their produce and introducing it to people through food. Growing rice takes months of work. Pulses require tremendous care because they can split open if not harvested at the right moment. Acknowledging that effort is important to us. From there, we expanded into other ingredients that define Bengali cuisine. Some are grown in Bengal, while others such as cloves, cardamom and cinnamon, became part of Bengali cooking through centuries of trade.
While Chatterjee puts farmers in the spotlight, he extends the same philosophy to his kitchen, where cooks from rural backgrounds are employed to preserve traditional flavours, alongside chefs with professional training who ensure consistency and refinement. Initially, they hosted small, seasonal food gatherings at their store in South Kolkata. Still, many chefs encouraged them to cook more because they had access to exceptional ingredients and knew the stories behind them. "That's how we began creating meals with our partners, drawing inspiration from how farming communities themselves eat. Last year, we added a full restaurant within the store where visitors can dine, discover an ingredient they enjoy, and then buy it to cook with at home. If someone wants to know which rice or ingredient we've used in a dish, we're happy to share that information. That's part of the experience.
The Sundarbans is a place shaped by water and migration, where communities have continually adapted to nature. That's the mood Chatterjee wanted to establish before the meal begins, with an amuse-bouche inspired by the landscape of the Sundarbans itself: the mangroves, the rivers, the tides, and the resilience of the people who have lived there for generations. Made with ingredients like wild gooseberry, jackfruit seed, and lotus stem to evoke the flavours of the region while introducing ingredients that rarely receive attention, each one is described through words such as insular, water polyphony, silted sweetness, Dakshin Rai, and confluence.
The meal opens with shukto, Bengal's traditional bitter course. Usually vegetarian, but in the Sundarbans, where fish is abundant, natives often prepare it with fish. The next course introduces the estuarine landscape through tiny crabs known locally as chiti kankra. These are different from the large export crabs people associate with the Sundarbans and are found in the tidal waters and are used for everyday cooking.
The dal course features yellow moong dal with jackfruit seeds, an ingredient commonly used in the region, served with Pat Pata-r bora, fritters made from jute leaves, which have traditionally been eaten across Bengal and Bangladesh. While jute is best known as a fibre crop, its leaves are also an important seasonal food. It's a reminder that many crops nourish people long before they become commercial products.
The prawn course is prepared in a very traditional Bengali style, steamed inside a gourd leaf. It's intentionally simple, with no elaborate sauces or embellishments. For vegetarians, prawns were replaced by thor-er ghonto or creamy banana stems.
The meat course celebrates an ingredient that predates the arrival of chillies in India. Instead of chilli, they used chui (piper chaba), a climbing pepper native to the Bay of Bengal region. Chatterjee tells us that before Portuguese traders introduced chillies, this was one of the ingredients people relied on to add warmth to their food. It has a flavour that's completely different from chilli and is more aromatic and layered, lending the mutton a distinctive flavour. Using it allows one to revisit an older chapter of Bengali culinary history.
Every course is paired with a different heritage rice grown in the Sundarbans. We begin with a more aromatic variety like Chine Kamini, then move on to the less fragrant Rupshal, which is served alongside the mustard-based fish course because its texture complements the dish better. Dessert continues that story with a rice porridge using Kanakchur rice, finished with Himsagar mango. Kanakchur is a prized aromatic variety that's also used to make some of Bengal's finest sweets. Its fragrance transforms a simple milk pudding into something much more memorable.
Rather than treating rice as a neutral accompaniment, we treat it as an ingredient with its own personality. Because every rice has its own personality, each variety can completely change the experience of a dish. "One of the rice varieties we use grows in saline, brackish conditions, yet produces remarkably sweet, aromatic grains. Nature creates these extraordinary contradictions, and all we've done is present them. More and more chefs today are appreciating these distinctions and actively seeking heritage rice varieties suited to specific preparations. That's encouraging because it shows people are beginning to value rice in the same way they value other artisanal ingredients. We wanted the meal to reflect that same confluence, not just of ingredients, but of histories, memories and people."
Ultimately, this meal was about memory. It's about preserving traditional knowledge, recognising the people who grow our food, and celebrating a landscape whose culinary heritage deserves to be understood as deeply as its natural heritage.
Chatterjee wants to introduce ingredients that are slowly disappearing from public memory, such as a local variety of gooseberry that grows in the Sundarbans. "The natives traditionally made simple condiments with it, and children would eat the fruit straight from the tree. Today, those trees are becoming increasingly rare. We're trying to connect people to food through the stories behind it. Whenever we talk about a place, we can describe its landscape, but we also need to see it through the eyes of the people who live there. Without them, the story is incomplete. That's what we're trying to do through this menu."
2019
Amar Khamar was founded to preserve Bengal's heritage grains, indigenous farming practices and regional food traditions
Bonbibi and Dakshin Rai are the guardian deities of the Sundarbans mangrove forests in West Bengal and Bangladesh. Honoured by both Hindus and Muslims, they represent the eternal struggle between human survival and the untamed dangers of the wild.
