A place for Onam at Delhi table and in its heart
Opinion A place for Onam at Delhi table and in its heart Delhi already understands this way of entering another community's celebration.
Opinion A place for Onam at Delhi table and in its heart Delhi already understands this way of entering another community's celebration.
Article outline
- What happened
- Background
- What comes next
- Why it matters
- The bottom line
Key points
- 4 min readAug 26, 2026 06: 30 AM IST First published on: Aug 26, 2026 at 06: 30 AM IST.
- In 2025, Kerala House in New Delhi planned to serve sadhya to approximately 3, 000 individuals over three days, or 800 to 900 residents a day.
- In 2014, I happened to be in Kerala for work during Onam.
- And now, come Onam, the banana leaf becomes a familiar sight throughout Delhi.
- Sadhya's popularity additionally tells a longer story concerning Delhi's relationship with food from southern India.
In 2014, I happened to be in Kerala for work during Onam. I did not know much regarding the festival then, and certainly did not know what awaited me when friends took me to a home in the neighbourhood for lunch. A banana leaf was laid before me, glossy green and still wet from a rinse. Then came the food, ladled and spooned onto the leaf: Avial, olan, thoran, pachadi, pickles and curries sat next to warm rice. My friends guided me through what remains one of my most memorable meals.
And now, come Onam, the banana leaf becomes a familiar sight throughout Delhi. Restaurants prepare for packed sittings, home chefs open their kitchens, and WhatsApp groups commence exchanging recommendations on where to find the best sadhya. Malayalis celebrating the festival are naturally at the heart of it, but around the tables are additionally north Indian families, young diners who discovered the feast on Instagram, and food enthusiasts who have learnt to book well in advance. And then there is the trusted route into any regional cuisine, those incredible friends who know exactly where to eat a good sadhya.
In practice, the scale is no longer anecdotal. In 2025, Kerala House in New Delhi planned to serve sadhya to approximately 3, 000 individuals over three days, or 800 to 900 residents a day. Throughout Delhi-NCR in 2026, food guides listed at least 20 restaurants offering special Onam sadhyas, with spreads running to 20 or 30 preparations. A few years ago, Thomas Fenn, the co-founder of Mahabelly in Saket, informed The Indian Express ('Onam approaching, Delhi's restaurants and home chefs prepare to roll out sadhya spread', August 29, 2022) that it was serving 350 to 400 festive meals a day.
Sadhya's popularity additionally tells a longer story concerning Delhi's relationship with food from southern India. That relationship did not commence with the current crop of restaurants. Andhra Bhavan's canteen has been serving diners since 1991. The snaking lines outside it have been a familiar Delhi sight for years. While Kerala House's Samridhi canteen, operating since 2013, was serving 200 to 250 lunches on an ordinary day by 2019, karnataka Food Centre in RK Puram has long had its weekend queues.
Meanwhile, the change is additionally visible in how Delhi negotiations regarding food from the south. For years, idli, dosa, vada and sambar dominated the menu and the popular imagination. Now the city's appetite has widened. Appam, puttu, kothu parotta, gongura, pesarattu, bisi bele bath or Mangalorean ghee roast are increasingly familiar. Even idli and dosa are no longer seen as one standard dish, with diners recognising different styles and regional variations.
Sadhya is particularly good at opening that door since it refuses straightforward abbreviation. A single banana leaf can hold 20 to 30 preparations, bringing together different vegetables, grains, curries and payasams.
Sadhya additionally brings residents closer to the festival. Chef Marina Balakrishnan has described it as being "beyond food", referring to the families and communities that come together around the meal. In Delhi, this extends beyond the Malayali community. For plenty of diners, sadhya becomes their introduction to Onam, the story of Mahabali, the pookkalam, the banana leaf and the tradition of eating together.
Delhi already understands this way of entering another community's celebration. Durga Puja draws individuals who plan their pandal visits around Bengali food. Ramzan evenings send diners towards the old city's kebabs, breads and sweets. Onam is finding its own place in this shared festive calendar.
Food historian K T Achaya traced how what Indians eat carries histories of travel, trade and cultural exchange. Anthropologist Claude Lévi-Strauss saw food as a language through which societies express themselves. As a city discovers new food, it additionally begins to understand where it comes from, the traditions around it and the residents who have carried it with them. I arrived at my first sadhya in Kerala without knowing what would land on the banana leaf. Today, thousands in Delhi seek out that leaf every Onam. In learning another region's food, a city additionally learns concerning the individuals who call it home.
Hussain is a chef and author.
For now, a place for Onam at Delhi table and in its heart remains the part of the story worth watching, and further updates are likely as more details are confirmed.
