Indians eat a mind-boggling array of street food.
They nosh on pakoras, or vegetable fritters; jalebis, which are deep-fried coils of fermented batter dunked in sugar syrup; and papdi chaat, a tart and spicy mélange of crunchy fried dough, yogurt and spices — to name just a few. The snacks, often washed down with chai, are ubiquitous, filling and relatively cheap.
But the king of street food — and one of India’s most famous culinary exports — is the samosa. The deep-fried, plump and triangular piece of flaky dough has crisp edges, encasing a heavily spiced potato stuffing. Usually served with tangy and sweet condiments, they cost as little as 15 cents at food carts or stalls throughout the country.
So, when a recent government advisory put samosas — along with other deep-fried Indian snacks and Western foods such as burgers and French fries — on a list of things that should be eaten in moderation because of their high oil and sugar content, there was an unsurprising outcry. Social media erupted with memes, and Indian media chimed in to say the country’s most iconic bites were under attack.
A love of the samosa is “ingrained in us,” said Rana Safvi, a cultural historian, who said it served as both street food and comfort food. If the government had targeted only burgers or pizza, people wouldn’t have cared, she said. “Samosa is something that is too close to them.”
Some news outlets fueled the backlash by likening the directive to health warnings on cigarettes.
The actual advisory was considerably milder than that. India’s health ministry on June 21 sent out a notice to all government ministries requesting that they put up posters in public spaces, such as office cafeterias and meeting rooms, showing the oil and sugar levels in certain foods. In the sample posters, the much-loved samosa was first on the high-fat list. (Jalebis were lower down on the high-sugar poster.)
The daily recommended intake of fats is 27 to 30 grams, and one samosa can contain between 17 and 28 grams, according to the posters (types of fat are not specified).
Last month, the government moved to clarify its intentions, saying it had not directed vendors to put warning labels on their products, and that it wasn’t selectively targeting Indian snacks. It called the advisory a “behavioral nudge to make people aware of hidden fats and excess sugar” in many types of food.
The move was in keeping with Prime Minister Narendra Modi’s campaign to encourage active lifestyles, called Fit India. Earlier this year, Mr. Modi used his radio program to call on people to reduce the amount of oil they consume.
Nearly one in five adults in India’s urban areas are overweight or obese, the 2021 National Family Health Survey found. The percentage of children under 5 years of age who are overweight is also increasing, it found.
India, a country of about 1.4 billion people, is expected to have 450 million overweight or obese people by 2050, second only to China, according to a study by The Lancet, a medical journal. The government has identified obesity, which can push up rates of cardiovascular problems, Type 2 diabetes and other diseases, as a major public health challenge.
Street foods such as jalebis, samosas and chole bhature — chickpea curry with deep-fried bread — are deep-fried in saturated or partially hydrogenated oils, and often refried in the same oil, which significantly increases trans fatty acid content, said Dr. Anoop Misra, an endocrinologist.
If government health programs are executed and regulated well, it could “lead to a significant reduction in obesity, diabetes, and cardiovascular disease,” he said.
Street food lovers are not ignorant of the perils.
On a recent afternoon, Sanjay Kumar, 29, stood by Old Famous Jalebi Wala, a shop that has been in business since 1884, in Delhi’s bustling Chandni Chowk bazaar. He was eating a jalebi topped with rabri, a condensed milk dish.
Mr. Kumar said he was overweight but allowed himself the occasional treat. Although jalebis are available everywhere, the freshly made ones at the stall — which is about the length of a bus — are of “top quality,” he said.
“I know that jalebis increase the weight, but what do I do?” Mr. Kumar said. “Jalebis are so tasty.”
Such snacks are necessary because lower-income workers cannot afford to buy food in expensive restaurants, said Rishabh Nath, who runs a food stall founded by his father adjacent to Delhi’s high-end Khan Market. It opens at 5 a.m. daily and quickly becomes crowded with workers filling up for the day ahead.
Dheeraj Sharma, who works for a driving school, said he had been eating samosas from a stall four times a week for the past decade. He is aware of the dangers of too much fried food, but he said samosas were his snack of choice because they’re “tasty, easy to eat and cheap to buy.”
Mr. Sharma, 30, said it was a good idea for governments to urge shops to display more information about the foods they sell. But, he added, “this is the fun of life, so why not enjoy?”
Anupreeta Das covers India and South Asia for The Times. She is based in New Delhi.
Hari Kumar covers India, based out of New Delhi. He has been a journalist for more than two decades.
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