The flavours we crave today were shaped by old commercial routes and culture. It wasn’t just the monsoon rains that arrived with the winds — Arabian and Persian traders followed too, bringing with them not only fine muslin and perfumes, but spices, grains, poultry, and culinary traditions.
The old Silk Route, spanning 4,000 miles from China’s Kingdom of Xi’an to west across the Gobi Desert wasn’t just lined with fabrics and gemstones — it was perfumed with the aromas of spices, grains, and charred meat drifting from caravan fires.
Riding the monsoon winds, Arabian and Persian traders arrived on South Asian shores, carrying not just goods but gastronomic traditions. Along these winding land and sea routes, the Middle East and South Asia were bound by a hunger older than politics: the pursuit of flavour.
Little did they know, when the Indus Valley met Babylonia across desert winds and river deltas thousands of years before, a multicultural palate was being formed.
In ancient Mesopotamia, fruits like dates, figs, and grapes were not just harvested for everyday eating—they were dried, fermented, and transformed into wine, becoming central to both cuisine and culture. Legumes such as lentils, chickpeas, and beans were equally essential, forming the nourishing base of meals that still echo through the region today in beloved dishes like hummus, falafel, and tabbouleh.
Arab traders ferried not only pearls and perfumes but also peppercorns, cardamom pods, and turmeric roots, all of which were prized medicinal spices.
Notable Food Historian Colleen Taylor Sen notes that these spices flourished long before kabsa or biryani acquired their modern names.
Black pepper from Kerala was once worth its weight in gold in the markets of Baghdad; ginger, cinnamon, and clove perfumed both Indian court kitchens and Persian gardens.
In Arabic, the word for spice mix — baharat — echoes Bharat, the ancient name of the Indian subcontinent, as if language itself remembers the trade winds that carried nutmeg eastward and rice westward.
In this cultural dance, culinary identities were not lost but layered. The pilaf, an early Arab rice dish, sailed back into South Asia and was reborn as biryani — denser, spicier, and steeped in saffron.
For centuries, Indian traders exchanged spices such as turmeric, cumin, and coriander with merchants across the Arabian Peninsula. Over time, these spices became so integral to Middle Eastern cooking that it’s difficult to envision iconic dishes like kebabs, pilafs, and stews without their distinctive flavours.
Likewise, the domesticated chicken, which likely first clucked in the Indus Valley, found its way to Mesopotamia, only to return centuries later as grilled kebabs and charcoal-roasted tandoori.
The Middle East has significantly shaped South Asian cuisine, bringing with it luxurious gravies infused with nuts, saffron, and fragrant herbs, as well as an array of breads. Historical texts like Ain-i-Akbari by Abul Fazal reference dishes such as yakhni (a meat-based broth), musamman, and stuffed roast chicken, alongside culinary methods like dumpukht (slow cooking) and biryani (a technique involving frying or roasting). Breads like sheermal, roomali roti, and tandoori roti also trace their roots to Mughal influence.
Even beloved desserts like kulfi are believed to have emerged during the Mughal era. A key record of this culinary blend is the Nimatnama-i-Nasiruddin-Shahi, a Persian manuscript commissioned by Malwa’s ruler Ghiyath Shah in the late 15th century, which showcases medieval recipes adorned with rich illustrations.
The art of baking with refined flour — maida — came with the West Asian traders, giving rise to the beloved samosa, crisp and golden, its triangle holding stories from ancient Baghdad to modern Mumbai.
Some dishes are edible archives—haleem, a lentil and meat stew slow-cooked during Ramadan in Hyderabad and Damascus, traces back to Levantine harissa. Jalebi, the sticky golden coil seen at Indian weddings and Middle Eastern souks, likely has Persian roots from the Delhi Sultanate era. These culinary palimpsests layer generations of flavor without erasing origins.
Today’s migration adds fresh chapters: in Dubai, Doha, and Muscat, shawarma stalls serve rotis, biryani is spiced with za’atar, and camel milk sweetens Indian desserts. Back in Delhi and Bengaluru, tahini, za’atar, and shawarma-inspired parathas have found a home. Online platforms like Amazon and BigBasket act as modern Silk Roads, shipping Iranian saffron to India and Hyderabadi haleem to Riyadh.
Today, the fusion of South Asian and Middle Eastern cuisines has captured the modern palate, blending bold spices, time-honoured techniques, and shared culinary sensibilities into dishes that feel both familiar and exciting.
In the 21st century, the culinary landscapes of South Asia and the Middle East have been transformed by migration and modern trade. Millions of South Asian workers in Gulf countries like the UAE, Saudi Arabia, and Qatar have brought with them a vibrant array of regional cuisines — from Hyderabadi biryani and Chettinad chicken to Sindhi sai bhaji and Bangladeshi kacchi biryani — now served in neighbourhoods like Karama in Dubai or Al Wakrah in Doha. These dishes have not only catered to migrant communities but also shaped local tastes, with Arab consumers embracing biryani spiced with za’atar or gulab jamun made with camel milk.
Indian cuisine has become a vital cultural bridge between India and the Middle East, fostered through food festivals, cooking shows, and diplomatic events organized by Indian embassies.
From Indian food festivals in Dubai to chef collaborations and culinary tours, cross-cultural exchange is thriving. Indian chefs teach cooking classes while Middle Eastern tourists bring Indian flavors home, sparking a two-way dialogue amplified by social media, pop-ups, and restaurant weeks.
Middle Eastern staples like tahini, za’atar, and dates are now common in South Asian cities, fueling fusion dishes like shawarma parathas and labneh raita. Food startups and upscale restaurants in Mumbai, Delhi, and Bengaluru showcase this vibrant crossover.
Traditional techniques travel too—tandoors are found in Gulf homes, while Indian spice layering influences Middle Eastern kitchens. Thanks to modern logistics, you can now ship Hyderabadi haleem to Riyadh or order Iranian saffron in Hyderabad instantly.
While modern trade flows from fibre optic cables to cold storage air and sea freight, the age-old desire to taste, borrow, and blend remains timeless.
