India's safari retreats get a menu upgrade

In Kanha National Park in Madhya Pradesh, the golden hour usually belongs to the tiger. But as the safari dust settles at the Kanha Earth Lodge, a different spectacle unfolds beneath a sprawling mahua tree. Dinner is served and it’s not the usual north Indian or continental fare. Instead, it is grilled chicken with pineapple glaze, lentil salad and pan-seared fish. By the time the mahua ice cream arrives, the transition is distinct.

The eco-luxury retreat bordering Kanha’s buffer zone maintains its own organic garden for vegetables, fruits and herbs. The butterfly garden produces edible flowers. Any extra produce is sourced from the nearest village of Sarekha, around 3km away. “We want our guests to get a taste of the land and the season. They can watch their vegetables being harvested just hours before dinner or even walk to the garden to pick their own salad greens,” says Ark Bagchi, executive chef of Pugdundee Safaris that operates several resorts, including Kanha Earth Lodge.

A TASTE OF THE TERRAIN

For a long time, food in a safari lodge was measured by the breadth of a buffet, often with rich gravies and generic global dishes. This is changing. Rather than relying on long-haul supply trucks, lodges now cultivate organic kitchen gardens that ensure a daily harvest of herbs and greens. For everything else, they form partnerships with local farmers, acting as guaranteed buyers for indigenous grains and seasonal produce.

At Tipai, a luxury retreat on the fringes of Tipeshwar Wildlife Sanctuary in Maharashtra, chef Amninder Sandhu serves raan (the hind leg of goat/lamb) slow cooked for eight hours in an underground pit until the meat falls off the bones. The ambadi chaat is made of roselle leaves plucked from the on-site garden, flash-fried and paired with a charred pineapple sorbet, pomegranate dust and tamarind pearls. It is zesty, complex, and built specifically for the afternoon heat. The palate cleanser comes as a sorbet churned from fresh marigold flowers. “Marigolds grow abundantly around us. We infuse it gently, bringing out its grassiness and an almost honeyed floral note,” says Sandhu, who also has puranpoli profiteroles on the menu as part of a seven-course degustation menu. “There is an expectation of storytelling: people want to understand where the food comes from, who grows it and how it connects to the region.”

At Aramness Gir in Gujarat, the signature matla chicken matches the drama of the Sasan Gir wilderness. A whole chicken is stuffed with greens, wrapped in banana leaves and tucked into an overturned terracotta pot that is set ablaze. “Originally a shikaar dish, the technique survived even after hunting was banned because it worked brilliantly. Villagers around Gir still prefer this traditional method when it comes to cooking meat,” explains chef Vikas Das. The dish is a sensory event the moment the pot is cracked open.

The rest of the menu is equally inventive. Flatbreads come layered with greens from the kitchen garden and a soft-cooked egg, while the French toast is stuffed with cheese and a house-made mango chutney. The 30,000 sq. ft organic garden supplies most of the produce. Everything else comes from within 50km, mainly from Talala taluka’s farmers. The surrounding mango orchard contributes significantly when in season.

The meals at Brij Sone Bagh, a luxury retreat on the edge of Bandhavgarh Tiger Reserve in Madhya Pradesh are equally exciting. Here, indigenous millets like kodo and kutki are elevated into textured risottos and paellas, while red amaranth leaves find their way into falafels.

This spirit continues at Rhino & River Wildlife Retreat in Pobitora, the home of the one-horned rhinoceros in Assam. The kitchen draws from the lush bounty of the Brahmaputra valley. The standout is a black rice salad, where the nutty grain is tossed with fermented bamboo shoots, and a dressing of bhoot jolokia and bamboo brine.

“Guests are often intrigued by its complexity and at the same time surprised by how light and vibrant it feels,” says Kashmiri Barkakati Nath, the menu consultant. They are also encouraged to go on foraging trips to pick wild edible greens. These are stir-fried by the chefs or pounded into chutneys, wrapped in banana leaves, and roasted over an open fire.

LED BY THE SEASONS

Maintaining culinary standards in the bush requires constant improvisation and innovation. Unlike city restaurants, these remote retreats operate where produce is scanty and supplies erratic. This necessity makes preservation techniques such as pickling, fermenting and drying essential for extending seasons. It also demands a flexible approach to tradition. A classic shrikhand, for instance, transitions from strawberry to pineapple to mango as the months shift. If eggplant is unavailable for bharta, the kitchen applies the same smoky, roasting and tempering techniques to gourds.

“When figs ripen, we make anjeer barfi instead of the usual mohanthal. When chikoo arrives, we prepare halwa. Fresh turmeric becomes haldi ki sabzi, a dish possible only during winter months when turmeric is harvested. We don’t approximate these dishes year-round; we wait for the right season,” says Das.

The challenge isn’t just logistical; it is also about the diner’s palate. “Sometimes the expectations are shaped by luxury resorts offering imported ingredients,” notes Sandhu. The setting is also atmospheric. At Tipai, dinner is laid in a grove of palash trees, while Aramness invites guests to low tables tucked into a lush orchard against the crackle of campfire.

The kitchen at safari lodges has finally caught up to the sightings. These meals ensure that the most memorable encounter of the day now happens not only in the jungle, but also at the table.

Nivedita Jayaram Pawar is a Mumbai-based food and travel writer.