
If I were to distil the five days of pujo into a perfume, the fragrance of chhatim phul and frankincense will mingle with spice-laden, citrusy aroma of phuchkar jal (or tamarind water that goes into phuchka), and a hint of kewra essence and meetha attar evocative of the lid coming off a massive deg of Biryani.
Say Durga Pujo, and a multitude of memories flash through my mind’s eye, some in high-definition photographic slides, others a blur.
Adda outside the neighbourhood pujo pandal over several rounds of ghoti garam, a mix of toasty jhuri bhaja, onions, green chilies tart splinters of Indian hog plums and fragrant bits of mango-ginger and a hurried but unforgettable breakfast of kochuri paired with a sweetish, ginger-scented potato curry at a hole-in-the-wall shop called Mukhoruchi, on Beadon Street, after early morning pandal hopping in North Kolkata.
From there, the montage only grows richer — our large joint family piling into two white ambassadors headed for China Town on a Saptami night, losing a phuchka eating competition to a 10-year-old at the neighbourhood pandal; biryani lunch with college friends on Nabami, sleepless nights, haunted by deadly sulphur burps, plates heaped with kucho nimki, and fudgy narkel nadu at my maternal grandmother’s home, on Dashami evening. But they have one thing in common. Food. Durga Pujo is, above all, a great big feast.

The apogee of Durga Pujo dining experience is bhog khawa – partaking in the food symbolically offered to the goddess. Every neighbourhood pandal usually serves community lunches. The community bhog usually follows a more or less fixed template — a runny khichuri, beguni or aubergine fritters studded with nigella seeds, labra, a mishmash of assorted vegetables and leafy greens, chutney and runny payesh.
The bhog offered to the Goddess at home, particularly the city’s bonedi bari, (aristocratic houses) like Shobhabazar Rajbari or Laha Bari in North Kolkata or the Savarna Roy Choudhury household that hosts Durga Puja, is far more diverse and not necessarily a vegetarian affair.. In many homes, where the Shakta tradition of worship is followed, matsya (fish) or even mamsa (meat) bhog is mandated.
These sprawling spreads could feature dishes ranging from ghee-laced pulao, deep-fried vegetables and mustard-laced fish curries to runny stews of seasonal vegetables and cold fermented rice served with colocasia stem cooked with Hilsa head or coconut, and khesari dal or grass pea, often dubbed as the poor man’s pulse. In some homes, it’s mandatory to offer bottom-feeding fish, such as shol, charred over a flame, to the goddess.

Besides, there’s a lavish spread of sweetmeats — nutmeg-scented darbesh, crescent-shaped chandrapuli, rose-flavoured sandesh, rolls of milk skin stuffed with khoya, and a lot more — made by confectioners in makeshift tents or sourced from some of the oldest and storied sweet shops in the city.
At Shobhabazar Rajbari, the goddess is offered massive laddus of motichur, a pristine, pearly white in colour, instead of the usual deep saffron. At the Ghosh mansion of Pathuriaghata, sandalwood-infused Chandana kheer is a mandatory offering.
Mishti is central to Durga Pujo celebrations. I suggest combining a sweet shop crawl with early-morning pandal hopping in Central or North Kolkata, home to some of the city’s most iconic sweetshops. Stop for a traditional breakfast of kochuri-tarkari at Potlar Kochuri shop on Baghbazar Street before heading to the century-old Baghbazar Sarbojanin Durgotsav Pandal, a short walk away, or head to Shyambazar five-point crossing for a luchi-chholar dal meal at Adi Haridas Modak, after a quick stop at Shobhabazar Rajbari.
Follow it with freshly made mishti from heritage sweet shops tucked inside the lanes of Natun Bazaar, such as Nalin Chandra Das & Sons or Makhanlal Das & Sons, which supply mishti to some of the most famous Pujo celebrations in North Kolkata.

Pujo evenings, on the other hand, are powered by an electric mix of street bites. The lanes and bylanes around Pujo pandals are crowded with stalls — everything from Domino’s pizza and Kentucky Fried Chicken, and more recently, Korean corn dogs.
But Pujo is incomplete without the quintessential Kolkata street bites — hot plates of ghoogni, curried white peas, topped with sharp bits of finely chopped onions and brightened with a squeeze of lime, tongue-searing aloo kabli or boiled potatoes tossed in puckering mix of tamarind pulp, spices and freshly-chopped coriander and fiery bits of green chilies, egg rolls, rolled up with slivers of onions and cucumber, and splotches of red and orange chili sauce, or springy noodles, tossed with julienne of colourful vegetables and spices of suspicious pedigree, in crusty woks at roadside stalls.
A personal favourite is the orange-tinted aloo dum, fiery and tangy with spiced tamarind sold at phuchka stalls. Boro Phuchka near the famous Suruchi Sangha Pujo in New Alipore makes a mean version. Besides, there is an array of chop-cutlet-kabiraji — the crumb-coated, deep-fried treats the city is famous for.
Stalls selling these items are everywhere during Pujo, but I like to get my fill from perennial favourite shops like Campari and Apanjan in South Kolkata, or North Kolkata stalwarts like Niranjan Agar and Mitra Cafe.

Eating out during Durga Pujo is not restricted to street stalls, restaurants big and small, which do brisk business catering to burgeoning crowds of hungry pandal-hoppers and revellers. Restaurants, pubs and cafes, and five-star hotels across the city come up with Pujo special menus that span global classics to local favourites, often with a spin.
Although pujor khawadawa is not restricted to Bengali food, there’s a propensity to be a dash more Bengali and indulge in a traditional meal. And speciality restaurants serving Bengali food go all out with specially curated menus featuring a cornucopia of Bengali classics like ghee-laced basanti pulao, fragrant with spiced and dyed a bright sunshine yellow, kosha mangsho, a burnished brown in colour and daab chingri, luscious prawn simmered in coconut cream, in green coconut shells, with a few gondhoraj-scented dishes thrown in. Those who want to stand out, dip into the culinary repertoire of Thakur Bari (the Tagore household).

Some restaurants are serving up menus that straddle tradition and innovation, while celebrating the bounty of Bengal and global techniques. At the Sienna Cafe & Store, which stands on the same lane as the famous Hindustan Park Sarbojanin Durga Puja, Chef Koyel Roy Nandy and Avinandan Kundu have designed a menu for Pujo that features everything from tempura-style fritters made with onions and loitta or Bombay duck, served with a slick of jhaal sauce, which literally translates to fiery sauce, and momos stuffed with potatoes and Kalimpong cheese, paired with confit badaam’er achaar or confit almonds and peanuts pickled with chillies and garlic.
There’ also Burmese-style pin-boned Hilsa, confit with lemongrass and kaffir lime, and braised in a mix of soy, fish sauce, ginger and garlic, served with Tulaipanji rice, and the Sienna special Pujo’r Bhog comprising Sienna’s rendering of dishes typically served complete with khichuri, shapla posto, water lily stem cooked with poppy seeds and kochur shaak — colocasia stalks cooked into a sapid mush with coconut and ginger. For dessert, there’s panna cotta, rich with coconut and jaggery, served with ice cream infused with smoked camphor —- a fragrance quintessential to religious festivities in Bengal.

One can also stop for lunch at Amar Khamar Lunch Room, a few minutes away. The quaint, new eatery serves up home-style Bengali food not typically served at Bengali restaurants. It showcases ingredients culled from across Bengal — Palmyra palm jaggery, rarer varieties of indigenous rice, piper chiba or chui, humming with piperine heat.
Their Pujo-special menu features innovations like the Bengali-style fried rice of aromatic, slender Kataribhog, an indigenous rice variety from North Bengal, sown with Hilsa roe, and topped with Ilish-er tel chorchori, a mishmash of Hilsa innards. The menu also features classic dishes from the other side of the border or Bangladesh, including dishes like Dhakai Murgi Roast or chotpoti, a chaat-like dish made with white peas. A trip to Singhi Park Sarbojanin Durga Puja, a five-minute walk away, is a good way to digest the meal.

Those who prefer not to step out can pre-order festive meals from a host of home cooks and culinary entrepreneurs. For instance, Gormei, a niche culinary outfit that curates extraordinary culinary experiences, has collaborated with city-based chef Joyee Sarkar to craft a delivery/take-away menus that feature everything from classics like mughlai paratha and mutton chop to innovations like chingrir roshbora and sandalwood-infused chandana kheer.
Subhajit Bhattacharya, who co-runs the YouTube channel Lost and Rare Recipes, has crafted special menus for each day of Pujo, featuring a mix of known and lesser-known dishes, such as maccher tokti kabab and bhetki machher roast. Orders must be placed in advance and picked up from their address, near the famed Chetla Agrani Durga Puja Pandal, a must-visit if you are in the area to pick up your order.
Well, you are in Kolkata, so Durga Pujo and Pyet Pujo (worship of the stomach) must go hand in hand!