Eating Exactly What I Was Warned Not to Eat in India

Eating Exactly What I Was Warned Not to Eat in India

Before I left for India, I was warned not to eat food that contained untreated water or that was uncooked.

After I arrived in Delhi, I was warned not to eat food that contained untreated water or that was uncooked.

I chose to disregard those repeated warnings. Here’s how that worked out.

My guide in Delhi was a big guy named Manjit Singh. As the last name may suggest, Manjit is a Sikh, and he took me to his temple, Gurudwara Delhi.

Before entering the temple building, we washed feet and hands. It was largely symbolic, I think, but I appreciated the sentiment, and the practice of washing hands is pretty much standard in many Hindu temples as well. The food of India has a reputation, among Westerners, for being perhaps a little unhygienic, and I can’t really speak to that, but one thing is for sure: the people of India spend a lot of time every day washing up.

After we entered the Sikh temple complex, I spotted people at a tent leaving with small covered bowls of something. Manjit told me this was a very simple sweet made of wheat and rice flours, sugar and clarified butter (ghee, a standard maker of Bengali cuisine). It also contained water, and it was not cooked.



On the temple grounds, I watched as people bought the sweet for a few pennies and then proceeded to a small tent where the snack was divided in two: half “went to the house.” This donated half was then given freely to anyone who wanted it. We got in line for the free stuff, though given prior warnings I was hesitant, which I suspect Manjit probably sensed. The man at the cart was separating small pieces from a larger mound of the stuff and pressing into people’s hands, mano a mano.

“Want some?” Manjit asked, holding out a sphere of the food, watching me.



“Sure,” I said and grabbed a piece. It was okay; it tasted like Maypo. More importantly than that mildly reminiscent gustatory pleasure, however, was the trust I feel I earned. I’m not fool-hearty, but if someone offers me food that is likely safe (though perhaps not), I’ll usually take the plunge. Not always, but usually. I feel that by taking that one bite, I sent the message that I was all in for whatever food came our way.

At the Sikh temple, every day, throughout the day, food is prepared served to anyone who comes to the door.

We went into the langar, a large communal kitchen/dining room, to have lunch.



“In here, there are millionaires eating side-by-side with beggars,” Manjit told me as we sat down in a huge dining room filling with a new shift of dinners. That’s probably true because Delhi has a lot of both.



Lunch was excellent, and not just because it was free. We ate a delicious mess of lentils, rice pudding (good, though not my kind of sweet), an excellent curry and sweet rice with saffron, chapatti on the side.



More than the simple deliciousness of our communal lunch, however, this was an excellent way to experience to some limited degree what it must be like to be a part of another culture, which I think is something we sometimes seek when eat at an ethnic restaurant. Most of us can never know what it’s like to be an Indian, Japanese or German, but eating in the restaurants of those cultures, we get some inkling of what it’s like to be another.

Sitting down cross-legged in a large room with a cross-section of Delhi demographics, I felt like maybe I was getting in on a vibe that would otherwise be inaccessible to gringos. I was grateful for that.

Afterwards, Manjit and I wandered around Delhi eating more stuff. I tried something called “artichokes,” and although they tasted a similarly to what we know as artichokes, they seemed a different beast than what we call the same vegetable in the U.S.



And just so you know I did exercise some precautions when eating, I did not buy water from this guy selling a sip for a few rupees…



…and despite the fact that it was a hot day, I did not try anything from the refrigerated trolleys, which were selling a kind of homemade limeade.



See, I do listen to advice. Sometimes.

David, my wife is extremely envious of your temple lunch. She remembers them as always being particularly enjoyable, and typically perfectly spiced.

The limeade/lemonade carts though? She remembers the drinks as being delicious when she managed to sneak one here and there, but also tells me that her parents would never let her get a drink from them (for health/hygiene reasons) even though they lived there until she was 14.

ucjames wrote:David, my wife is extremely envious of your temple lunch. She remembers them as always being particularly enjoyable, and typically perfectly spiced.

The limeade/lemonade carts though? She remembers the drinks as being delicious when she managed to sneak one here and there, but also tells me that her parents would never let her get a drink from them (for health/hygiene reasons) even though they lived there until she was 14.

I made a concerted effort not to be an up-tight-overly-abstemious-Westerner, but there was no way most street vendors could wash drinking vessels between uses and even the water itself could be problematic. Also, I was never THAT thristy, so the limeade was pretty easy to avoid.

In the Sikh temple, there was a very thorough cleaning procedure employed for all eating utensils -- I believe they actually had a process that involved washing each fork and tray multiple times in large washing machines.

That looks like a good lunch. I had leftover dosa today. I would not drink any of the water or drinks that are offered only bottled and preferably evian or something imported. Hot foods are probably okay. I did not get very sick in India but I did have a few bouts of the big d but not enough to harm me but I am so much older now and need to take precautions. Please get some Florastor and take that as it helps keep your colon in balance and counteract bad bugs.

By the way does anyone know of a temple that serves meals or lunch in the chicago area that is open to the public?

David, I've heard about communal meals at Sikh temples, and I appreciate your reporting on your firsthand experience.

That said, I would be inclined to expect food and water safety to be higher at a place like a Sikh temple than at a street cart or public water fountain.

I also would not consider handwashing frequency a reliable measure of water safety. As clean and conscientious as people anywhere may try to be, they have little to no direct control over how safe the locally available water is for drinking, food preparation, handwashing, or dishwashing.

As an aside, I just finished reading some research about diarrhea-related infant mortality rates in the Mekong delta being 12 to 35 times higher in rural floodplains than in urban areas. The incidence of diarrhea-related deaths due to e. coli in the aftermath of a major flooding event is typically many times greater than the incidence of drowning deaths. This is obviously not the fault of the people affected; it's due to inadequate stormwater and wastewater treatment.

I've travelled for weeks and months at a time to some two dozen countries over the last 25 years or so and gotten sick from the food or water only three times, for a total number of days that amount to a tiny percentage of my total travel time.

But as a civil engineer, I am not naïve about the risks associated with inadequately treated water in many parts of the world, including our own, and I would advise other people not to be either.

Hope you continue to enjoy your travels in good spirits, good company, and good health.

Keep the pictures coming. Perhaps consider a showing of the slides when you return from your adventure. It looks interesting.

So he never got the poops?

Katie wrote:I also would not consider handwashing frequency a reliable measure of water safety.

Me, neither. Like bathing in the Ganges, rinsing the hands before entering a Sikh temple seems more a symbolic cleansing.