A peek inside the Nyishi kitchen of Arunachal Pradesh

What is Arunachali cuisine? As a food writer, I have often pondered this question as relatively little is known or written about the cuisine of India’s farthest North-eastern state. On a recent visit to Itanagar to speak at the Arunachal Literature Festival in November 2025, I was able to experience the richness of a local meal, which showcased the delicious simplicity of the indigenous flavours.

Before reaching Itanagar, I had connected with food blogger Chasoom Bosai aka Arunachal Pallet, via Instagram. When I expressed my desire to eat a home-cooked meal, she sounded chipper. “Of course, Ma’am. I’ll set it up.” Unfortunately, Chasoom had to leave for Delhi just before I arrived, so she introduced me to Kapu Sanjay, an Itanagar-based government employee who moonlights as a photographer. “Sanjay will take you to our friend Teri Yajo Yangfo’s home. She specialises in Nyishi dishes,” she said.

Nyishi are the largest of the 28 major tribes in Arunachal Pradesh, with a population of 300,000, followed by Adi, according to the 2001 census. Concentrated around eight districts of the state, most still follow the ancient indigenous faith Donyi Polo, which emphasises living in harmony with nature.

Due to the preponderance of dense forest in Arunachal Pradesh — 79% of the state’s total geographical area — the dietary habits are intertwined with nature. Rice, millets, smoked meats, bamboo shoots, yams, seasonal herbs, greens and wild roots, foraged from the jungle or grown in farms and home gardens, and insects like tari (stink bugs) and takam (grasshoppers) form the staples of everyday Nyishi dishes. While boiling, roasting, and cooking in adung (bamboo tubes) are the most common cooking methods, smoking and fermenting are time-tested ways of preserving food.

Though pork and beef are popular, the unrivalled favourite is mithun (a descendent of wild Indian gaur), “We can’t get enough of its juicy tender texture and rich, gamey flavour. Mithun is considered both sacred and a status symbol and its sacrifice is a must at weddings, rituals and festivals,” shared Sanjay. His favourites include dinkiyo (a flavourful jerky made by drying mithun meat), smoked mithun with bamboo shoots, and a fiery dry meat pickle known as yamter. “You have to visit in February for Nyokum Yullo, our biggest harvest festival, when we enjoy a traditional feast of mithun innards chutney with apong (millet seed wine). It’s out of the world!”

I also learnt about a unique ingredient called tassey, a local flour made from starch extracted from the inside bark of the wild palm tree. “Tassey has been the survival fare of the Nyishi since millennia and our go-to food during drought and other natural disasters. Today, it’s more of a delicacy and used to make a variety of foods including sweets like halwa,” Sanjay informed.

The following day Sanjay drove me to Teri’s home in Mipdu village in Doimukh, a small town located about 25 km from Itanagar. When we arrived, our hostess was already waiting to greet us outside her traditional bamboo home, her tribal identity distinguishable by the vibrant gale, or Arunachali wraparound skirt, and bead jewellery she wore.

“Welcome!” she beamed, ushering us into a large room with a fireplace and smoker in the centre. There was no furniture, save a mattress on the floor covered with a bamboo mat. Soon Teri joined us with steaming cups of gingery red tea. I learned that Jo’s Kitchen, Teri’s catering brand, was spurred by her passion to preserve her ancestral traditions. The first Nyishi woman to start a food catering business in Itanagar, she saw her cooking as a vital link to thousands of generations of tribal traditions and wisdom. “These foods kept our forefathers healthy and are at the very heart of our culture and identity. I’ll never let them die,” she said with quiet determination.

The ace cook had made several of her signature dishes, kicking off the meal with tayin amin, a savoury mushroom and broken rice porridge served with dry bamboo shoot chutney and boiled tapioca. The lush creaminess of the amin reminded me of galho, the classic one-pot stew of the Nagas. “Yes, it’s similar, though ours is a little grainier as we don’t cook the rice so much,” Teri said, pointing out that a robust al dente texture is the hallmark of Nyishi dishes.

For mains, she had prepared steamed sticky rice wrapped in aromatic leaves known as koham ok, braised chicken with banana flower, wild-caught fish steamed with local herbs, country chicken boiled with greens and bamboo shoots, and steamed oyster mushrooms. The sides included boiled bitter eggplant and bamboo shoots, roasted wild Indian olives, spicy chicken yamter, and a piquant fermented soybean preparation called pehak.

The show-stealers were the chutneys known as hulis — banana flower and sesame seeds; dry bamboo shoots; and fish mint, sawtooth coriander and wild chives pounded with cherry tomatoes. “Hulis are a cross between chutneys and salads and bring a spicy kick to our meals. Back in the day, people in villages would just mince raw vegetables and greens, add king chilli and bamboo shoots and eat these chutneys like snacks, much like how people eat pizza today,” Sanjay added.

The barrage of wild greens used in the cooking was astonishing. The pairing of high-quality proteins with these regional, seasonal greens seemed so right together. Sawtooth coriander gave a grassy, citrusy tang to the steamed fish. And majenga (an aromatic herb) brought a distinctive tongue-tingling numbness to the country chicken even as perilla seeds imparted a subtle nuttiness that complemented the richness of the bird.

This wasn't just food, but a culture lesson. A delicious peak into a remote border state where antiquity and modernity collide. We sat long after the meal, chatting and reminiscing. As Teri hugged me goodbye, her gentle face curved into a smile. “I’m so happy you tasted our food. Now go tell the world about Arunachali cuisine,” she urged.

Sona Bahadur is an independent journalist and author based in Mumbai.