Kuch baat hai ki hasti, mit ti nahi hamari. Sadiyon raha hain dushman daur-e-jamana hamara’ (There is something in us that we have survived despite many in the world being our enemy for ages.). These are the famous lines of Mohammed Iqbal, the much celebrated Urdu poet. These lines are in fact prologue to Iqbal’s cult poem, “Saare Jahan Se Achcha Hindustan Hamara.”
Well these lines in the current context could be well suited to the survival story of Samosa and Jalebi.Both Samosa and Jalebi exemplify how gastronomiccustoms migrate, adapt, and flourish. Imported as royal dishes or festive treats, Samosa and Jalebi were transformed through local ingredients, tastes, and traditions into integral parts of Indian food culture, savoured across generations, regions, and celebrations, of which Delhi is the epicentre.
This snack couple is under a specific kind of attack with the government deciding to issue some kind of a health advisory against the consumption of this popular combination. To the connoisseurs of Indian food, this advisory is being seen as an overreach that threatens to dilute Indian street-food culture.The advisory’s focus on traditional snacks, commonly consumed by lower-income groups, may overlook the health risks associated with ultra-processed foods often marketed to and consumed by more affluent populations.
The whole idea of invoking tobacco-style signage around Samosas and Jalebis could culturally alienate the much loved snacks, potentially nudging consumers toward Western or exotic foods like pizza or momos, which may be more trendy but definitely not more healthier. Such an idea must be contested for it also assaults some happy memories associated with these snacks.
One remembers going on a Samosa safari in the by lanes of the walled city thanks to an Old Delhi resident friend who acted as guide. Walking through Chawri Bazaar or the intricate lanes of Matia Mahal, one encountered vendors offering keema Samosas bursting with spicy minced meat, moong dal Samosas with a grainy, savoury filling, and paneer Samosas wrapped in flaky layers.
Sweet Samosas filled with khoya and dry fruits make appearance during festive seasons, while in winter, the gobhi(cauliflower) and matar(peas)Samosa reign supreme. Even more fascinating are the fusion varieties—Chinese noodles, macaroni, and even pizza Samosas—catering to younger tastes while preserving the snack’s iconic triangular form.
But nothing to beat the ubiquitous potato filled Samosa sold across the country with flavour of the filling and flakiness of the crust varying from shop to shop. There is an interesting take on how the potatoes found their way into triangular womb of the popular snack.
During the reign of Muhammad bin Tughlaq, scholar and traveller Ibn Battuta recorded that the royals of Delhi relished a snack Sambusak — filled with minced meats, nuts, and spices. Sambusak had its origin in Persia and neighbouring Arab world.
With the arrival of the Portuguese in the sub-continent, arrived potato. Over a period of time, Indian cooks adapted the Samosa to local tastes and ingredients. Meat fillings made way for spiced potatoes, peas, and lentils, particularly among the vegetarian-dominant communities in North India. Similarly Jalebi too travelled from Persia and the Arab world to the courts of Delhi sultanate and the Mughals and then to the by lanes of the old city and beyond.
Jalebi as a complement to Samosa is something very peculiar to Delhi. The numerous street food carts selling Samosas also sell Jalebis.
In fact it has the city’s huge factory and civil work labour surviving on Samosas and Jalebis for their after daylong toil evening snack.
To put it simply, Samosas and Jalebis are deeply ingrained in the national capital’s food menu, especially among working-class communities. Highlighting these foods in health advisories could unintentionally defame them. Any such official advisory cautioning, whether on health, hygiene, or dietary grounds, may carry unintended economic consequences too, especially for thousands of street vendors whose livelihood depends on these popularsnacks. It can create panic or stigma, leading to a drop in consumer trust and footfall. Many vendors lack the resources to meet formal compliance standards overnight.
The result could be a disproportionate blow to small sellers while larger branded outlets would remain relatively unaffected. Delhi’s vibrant street food culture deserves preservation, not suppression. Balancing public health with livelihood protection is key, especially in an economy where the informal sector forms a vital support system for millions.
But given the spirit of survival, which the snack and its connoisseurs have, Samosa and Jalebi will outlive the health advisory against it.
Sidharth Mishra
Author and president, Centre for Reforms,
Development & Justice