The thali arrived on a stainless steel platter with twenty small bowls arranged around the edge, each containing a different dish. There was dal, yellow lentils tempered with mustard seeds and curry leaves. There was sabzi, a dry vegetable curry of cauliflower and potato. There was raita, yogurt with cucumber and mint. There was rice, naan, papad, pickle, chutney, a sweet of condensed milk and cardamom, and a glass of buttermilk. This was a Gujarati thali, and it cost three dollars. I was in Ahmedabad, at a restaurant called Gordhan Thal, and the meal was all-you-can-eat. The waiter kept refilling the bowls until I raised my hand in surrender. I ate until I could not move, and then I ate a little more.
What a Thali Actually Is
A thali is not a specific dish. It is a format: a complete meal served on a single platter, with small portions of many dishes that together cover all six tastes of Indian cuisine: sweet, salty, sour, bitter, pungent, and astringent. The composition varies by region. A Rajasthani thali emphasizes dal baati churma, wheat dumplings served with lentils and a sweet crumble. A South Indian thali features rice, sambar, rasam, and multiple vegetable preparations. A Bengali thali centers on fish, rice, and mustard-based curries. I tried thalis in five states during my month in India, and each one was a lesson in the regional identity of the place.
The Regional Variations
In Gujarat, the thali is vegetarian, sweet, and elaborate. The dal is sweetened with jaggery. The kadhi, a yogurt-based soup, is sweet and sour. Even the vegetables have a sweetness that surprised me. In Rajasthan, the thali is designed for the desert climate. The food is rich, oily, and designed to last without refrigeration. The baati, hard wheat dumplings baked in sand, can be stored for weeks. In Kerala, the thali is served on a banana leaf, and the centerpiece is red rice with fish curry made from coconut and tamarind. The spice level increases as you move south. The Gujarati thali was mild. The Andhra thali, which I tried in Hyderabad, was so spicy that my nose ran after the first bite.
Where to Eat the Best Thalis
The best thalis in India are not in high-end restaurants. They are in small, family-run establishments called bhojanalayas, where the food is cooked fresh every morning and served to a local clientele. I ate a memorable thali at a bhojanalaya in Udaipur, where the owner, a woman named Kamla, cooked everything herself and served it on leaf plates. The dal was smoky, because she cooked it over a wood fire. The chapatis were puffed and hot, because she made them to order. The meal cost two dollars. In contrast, I also ate a thali at a five-star hotel in Mumbai, where the presentation was elegant but the food lacked the intensity of flavor that comes from cooking the same dishes every day for decades.
Etiquette and How to Eat
A thali is eaten with the right hand. The left hand is considered unclean in Indian culture, and using it to eat is a serious faux pas. You tear a piece of bread, use it to scoop up a vegetable or dal, and push the food into your mouth with your thumb. It takes practice. I spent my first week in India eating clumsily, dropping rice down my shirt and getting dal on my wrist. By the end of the month, I could eat a full thali without a napkin. The other rule is to finish what is served. Leaving food on a thali is considered disrespectful to the cook and to the land. I learned to take smaller portions and ask for refills only when I was certain I could finish.
