In Bengal, food isn't just food. It is greatly connected to a family’s reputation and tradition, and sometimes becomes a battleground for criticism and opinions. The 2023 film Mrs. (starring Sanya Malhotra) reminded us, ghar ka khana comes with emotional baggage and at least seven sides of judgment. Forget the Michelin Star jury, our toughest food critics are often sitting right at our dining tables. One overcooked ilish, a little imbalance in the ratio of shorshe to posto in shorshe bata, and your culinary credentials are questioned. My Kolkata indulges in a slightly spicy taxonomy of the seven types of food critics we have all encountered.
The ‘Noon’ Notifier
There is always someone who finds the balance of salt just not right. Every bite is a serious NaCl experiment for this person. “Thik ache…kintu aro ektu jodi noon dite...” (It’s okay… but a little more salt was needed). Their taste buds are calibrated at the molecular level. And if they find the salt levels a tad bit more, their BP shoots up, their tongue burns, and you are to blame for it all.
The Bangal vs Ghoti Referee
Too sweet? ‘Eto mishi! Nischoi Ghoti’. Too spicy? ‘Eto jhaal! Ekdom Bangal’. This critic can be Bangal or Ghoti – one you must not offend with the alternative flavour profile. The Ghoti food critic will not spare you if you serve them bata-bhorta, while the Bangal will sulk if there is no ilish on the menu. Serve panta bhaat to a Ghoti, and they’ll say you’re feeding them prison food. Offer alu posto to a Bangal, and they’ll mourn the absence of fish.
The Spice Purist
Forget opinions, this food critic believes only in negative marking if you use packaged masala. The spices have to be dry roasted and ground on a sil batta/shil nora. Their sense of smell is so sharp, they can tell if your garam masala was ground in a different postal code. Dare you bring out the mixer-grinder or depend on MDH or Everest Masala — no matter how ‘asli’ or ‘taste mein best’ it is. The purist believes in preserving the natural oils, flavours and aroma. This critic doesn’t taste food — they audit it.
Culinary Chemist
This critic believes in a formula and treats cooking less like an art and more like a science project. “Did you sauté the onions for exactly seven-and-a-half minutes till translucent, but not browned?” They’ll ask for the temperature curve of your pressure cooker and question your dal-to-water ratio like they are preparing for a NASA launch. Don’t be surprised if this person sits with a spreadsheet for mangshor jhol ingredients and has strong feelings about the optimum pressure cooker whistle count for paanch meshali dal. Deviate, and you have ruined the dish.
Recipe Gatekeeper
‘Bhalo hoyeche, kintu maa-er moton hoyni. (Good, but not quite like how mother made it). Ah, yes, the eternal refrain. You could follow their mother’s recipe to the last mustard seed — even call her mid-cook for guidance — and still fall short. Because this critic isn’t looking for good food, they’re looking to taste memory, marinated in childhood, rose-tinted by time. Even if you do get it right, they’ll find a loophole. Bonus trait? They’ll eat three helpings of your cooked food while continuing to mourn the absence of a 19th-century coriander chutney recipe.
Food Ghotok
Meet the matchmaker who arranges culinary marriages. “Gobindobhog pulao without mutton kosha? That’s like a bride without gold jewellery!” Serve chholar dal without luchi and watch their heart break. To them, food isn’t just sustenance, it’s a universe of cupid’s arrow-struck lovers that must be reunited at every meal. They’ll scan your plate and gasp: “Where’s the bhaja? Where’s the papad with the aam-er chutney?” They're convinced that every dish has a soulmate, and if you mess with the pairings, you’re basically committing a culinary crime.
The Plating Pundit
This one doesn’t eat food, they curate it like it is the Venice Biennale. Before taking a bite, they’ve already passed judgment based on symmetry, drizzle techniques, and whether the coriander garnish looks “intentional”. Your lovingly cooked parshe maachh? “Too yellow. Needs contrast.” Your Basanti pulao without enough fried raisins and cashews? “Lacks texture and elements.” They want every meal to look like it walked out of a fine-dining Michelin Star restaurant headed by Vikas Khanna.