The appointment of a professional cook in the Bengali household is a relatively recent practice.
As food historian Utsa Ray points out, it was only in the early 20th century that middle-class families began employing cooks. Till then, kitchen duties were shared among women of the family, occasionally aided by helpers who helped with cutting and chopping vegetables or grinding spices.
But letting someone into the kitchen was not a simple decision. It was a sacred space in the house, governed by strict notions of caste and purity.
“When someone had to be given an entry into the kitchen, they had to be a Brahmin,” Ray explained. This demand coincided with a wave of migration from Odisha to Kolkata, where many Odia men found work as domestic help and cooks, sometimes presenting themselves as Brahmins to gain entry into upper-caste kitchens.
Migration, identity and survival
This intersection of migration and caste created an interesting social dynamic. Ray talks about instances where Odia workers adopted Brahmin identities to secure jobs.
“A lower caste cook would not be allowed into the kitchen… that is why they would go to community leaders and acquire a sacred thread (poite),” she said.
Despite their growing presence, these cooks were not immediately celebrated. According to Ray, there are early accounts in historical texts and documents that often criticized their cooking.
The food they cooked was salty, attributed to their coastal roots. Yet over time, their adaptability and skill began to shift perceptions as they were fast learners.
Learning the Bengali palate
Their ability to cook both vegetarian and non-vegetarian dishes made them indispensable Shutterstock
Odia thakurs never changed what Bengalis ate. But they mastered it. They learned quickly, often directly from the women of the household, and could replicate complex dishes.
“The impact is more about their skill in cooking. Their willingness to cook both vegetarian and non-vegetarian dishes made them indispensable. Unlike many north Indian Brahmins, Odia cooks had no hesitation in handling fish or meat, aligning seamlessly with Bengali food habits,” said Ray.
Food writer Priyadarshini Chatterjee recalls growing up in a south Kolkata household where Odia cooks ran a bustling kitchen.
“It was not just Oriya food being prepared… There were subtle influences,” she said, pointing to dishes like a yoghurt-mustard aubergine that echoed Odisha’s dohi baingana, while still fitting into a Bengali meal.
The backbone of celebrations
Odia cooks became central to large-scale cooking for weddings and family feasts AI-generated
If everyday meals showcased their skill, it was celebrations that made Odia thakurs legends. From weddings to large family feasts, they handled elaborate menus and logistics for cooking for hundreds.
Food researcher Dipankar Dasgupta fondly remembers Phani Thakur, a cook who became synonymous with his family’s gatherings.
“Phani Thakur, an Oriya cook from Jaleswar, was central to our family’s celebrations, especially weddings organised by my uncle. Known for his warmth and culinary brilliance, Phani first ran a railway canteen and won hearts with dishes like fish fry, cutlets, and homely Bengali meals.” At weddings, he led elaborate preparations — crafting iconic fish dishes while coordinating ingredients from across Kolkata.
“Assisted by his team, he transformed open spaces into bustling kitchens with wood-fired chulhas. More than a cook, Phani embodied a fading tradition of Oriya thakurs who once defined Kolkata’s grand feasts and family memories,” he recalled.