If you a member of the brown diaspora and carry a bloodline from forebears that have once roamed or are currently roaming the flavorsome regions east of the Mediterranean, or if you have had the privilege of roaming or growing up in the said regions, you have no doubt been bothered by the usage of the term "curry". You have no doubt spent some cringeworthy moments of your life perusing the International Foods aisle at your local grocery store, reading the ingredients list on containers of pre-made "curry powder" or "curry paste" and found that they all contain a generic combination of coriander, cumin, turmeric, paprika, sugar, vinegar, along with the customary cocktail of eclectic spices like citric acid and E211 aka sodium benzoate.
While it has been made heard time and again that the concept of "curry" is a lie, we here at the coalition of disgruntled brown people understand why this concept has come to be. We understand that food in India is so diverse that it changes every 100 km, and that the average non-subcontinent dweller is either too overwhelmed by this or is too lazy to learn the actual names of our dishes. We understand that once upon a time in 1700s India, there was a prudish European proto-colonizer clansman who was somehow simultaneously enamored by the Tamil word kari (கறி) and the Indian practice of spicing food up, and decided to promptly appropriate the former and learn only certain convenient portions of the latter, giving rise to the novelty trend of "curried" everything back in his home country where even the queen, who incidentally had acquired in the form of a 'gift from India' (https://www.bbc.com/news/world-south-asia-12670110) two Indian servants, would have dishes like "Currey the Indian Way" (https://www.secondshistory.com/home/victorian-curry-history) (yes, with the 'e') whipped up for her not infrequently. We get it. We also understand why some folks are surprised when we tell them that the "curry dish" they prepared by sprinkling the aforementioned "curry powder" onto a saucy canned tomato based stew like substance, delicious as it may have tasted, was not true Indian fare. We are even almost ready to forgive this whole exercise of appropriation, just as we are almost ready to forgive the glorification of the very institution of colonialism. And don't worry, we find racial slurs involving the word "curry" only mildly offensive; after all, "curry" isn't even a real thing!
"Curry" doesn't scandalize us. Does it bother us some? Sure. But would we wage a war just to cancel "curry"? Probably not. What truly is an outrage to us is the fact that this need to dumb down the names of multicultural dishes seems to apply more to Indian food than to other cuisines. For instance, a modak becomes a "sweet dumpling" and a momo becomes a "savory dumpling", while ravioli is still ravioli and empanadas are still empanadas even though they are basically dumplings too. The waiter in an Italian restaurant just asks you if you would like to order bruschetta, but the waitress in an Indian restaurant feels the need to ask if you would like an order of naan-"bread". Let us make it very clear that phulkas are phuklas, not "balloon bread"; that chapatis are chapatis, not "whole wheat tortillas"; and that puris are puris, not "fried puffy Indian bread". While we are at it, let us also make it clear that paneer is not "Indian cottage cheese". Sambar isn't such a hard word to pronounce, try saying it instead of "Indian lentil stew". Also, try saying chana masala or chhole; trust us, it's way simpler than "curried chickpeas in gravy". And while we usually aren't that offended when Guru Dutt is called the "Orson Welles of India" or Aamir Khan is called the "Tom Hanks of India", we do sincerely ask you to stop calling vada pav the "Indian burger". This kind of dumbing down becomes especially problematic when someone appropriates an Indian recipe in its entirety, and uses its dumbed down name as a means for absolution. It's paratha, Ms. Tosi, not "flaky bread"!
Come to think of it, maybe "curry" must be cancelled. Someday, maybe. Meanwhile, the next time someone tells you curry smells, tell them they are right. Curry does smell…
of colonialism.
Leaving aside the colonialism aspect, this is how world cuisines evolve isn't it? Our own sambar is said to be a corruption of aamti. Didn't we appropriate the use of chillis into our cuisine and make it our star? Agreed that the name curry is a misnomer, but whatever is served under the name is still legitimately evolved cuisine 😁
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