How the American Civil War led to Pav Bhaji

Buns, butter and a squeeze of lime juice — India’s simple street snack has one of the most subversive working-class histories.

One of the first mills in Bombay; Source: Meghdoot Textiles Pvt. Ltd

In the early 1860s, the American Civil War paralyzed Southern mills from New Orleans to Mississippi, causing cotton prices to reach an alarming high. With global supplies at stake, the British quickly needed an alternative. Hence, they turned to Bombay (now Mumbai), as a source of supply.

Little did the bustling city know, that these new orders, would also lead to an unlikely culinary revolution. To meet Britain’s demands in the nineteenth century, Bombay’s traders needed to constantly wire in rates and wire out orders — often pulling late shifts — to keep up with Western time zones. Huge supply orders began coming in, keeping the city’s mill workers at their looms till late at night, producing cotton in bulk quantities.

In 1870, Bombay alone was churning out cotton threads from over 4000 looms. Lunch breaks were short, and most workers who had to return to manually labouring at their looms, did not prefer having a heavy meal right before. Due to this, by the time the workforce clocked out of their shifts, they were undeniably famished. But with dhabas shut and wives fast asleep, a new late-night favourite came to the rescue — Pav Bhaji.

Taking note of Bombay’s new work shift, food vendors decided to come up with a recipe that wasn’t just delicious, but also saved them money. By taking leftover vegetables from the day — potatoes, cauliflower, carrots, onions — and tossing them in a rich tomato gravy, these vendors made ‘Bhaji’, a well-cooked Indian gravy. Served with buttered bread on the side, it came to be known as Pav Bhaji, a savoury concoction that tasted like a slice of heaven, especially after a hectic day of work.

While ‘Bhaji’ comes from the traditional name for an Indian vegetable dish, ‘Pav’ is believed to come from Pao, the Portuguese word for bread. Some believe the addition of Pav itself came later. However, the loaves themselves were already in existence in Bombay, thanks to the Portuguese Jesuits who settled in Bandra around the mid-1500s.

Still, Pav Bhaji’s curious connection with Portugal doesn’t end here. As part of the ‘Columbian Food Exchange’ in the 15th and 16th centuries, these European settlers brought a new wave of ingredients to India from their colonies in Latin America. These included potatoes, tomatoes, green chillies, corn and cashews, all of which neatly assimilated into Indian fast food and culinary practices. Pav Bhaji, naturally, was no exception.

Today, the dish is synonymous with Indian cuisine. But considering many of its popular ingredients aren’t as ‘native’ as one would expect, it shows how multicultural even the most defiantly local dishes are.

Over time, Pav Bhaji, partly because of its budget-friendly price, became a mainstay in Indian street food. Made by small vendors as well as fine-dining establishments, this snack has continued to delight the subcontinent for over 160 years. Throughout history, many different ways of making Pav Bhaji have also come up. In North India, a rajma recipe is commonly cooked; while South Indians tweak the gravy by adding more curry leaves.

Food is rarely passive. As dishes interact with the world around us, they offer a window into some of the most baffling histories. This relationship holds true even for the most mundane dishes like Pav Bhaji — food being not just a result of culinary experimentation but also the socio-cultural context within which it originates.