Sample Authentic Kashmiri Food at Calcutta Restaurant in Berlin

A pang for Indian food hit me like a brick as I walked out of Berlin’s Brandenburg Airport. That’s what two weeks of surviving (read: attempting to make the most of) European food — that to my desipalate (which jumps in proportionate excitement at the number of ‘chilli’ icons next to menu items indicating their spice quotient) was a tad understated — does to you. 

I was craving a good rogan josh. No particular reason. In that moment, my taste buds just seemed to demand the curried meat preparation native to Kashmir, probably to compensate for all the blandness of the past fortnight. 

An hour later, as I walked around the curb of my hotel at Bleibtreustraße 17, rogan josh pangs still ricocheting off my stomach walls, I spotted a place. ‘Calcutta’, read a vibrant green board that marked the entrance. I walked in. 

Usual time metrics say it takes 12 hours (give or take a couple) for a journey from Berlin to India. Well, in my case, it took one minute. I can’t say whether it was the soothing Indian background music that almost seemed like a hug, or the desi tadka aroma quintessential to Indian kitchens, or the smiling Indian gentleman who walked out and nodded to me, but in an instant, I was home. 

Calcutta restaurant in Berlin is one of the city’s oldest Indian restaurants Photograph: (Ananya Mukherjee)

There’s something about restaurant owners. They’re born storytellers. And so was my host — and eventually, protagonist — Ashok Kachroo. I asked what the menu special was, and he replied with pride: rogan josh. I smiled at the odds. 

I went right ahead and placed my order for the curry and some butter naans(Indian flatbread). Ashok, the welcoming host that he is, pulled up a chair at the table beside me and asked me how I was liking Berlin. I told him about my Indian cravings, and then, in turn, asked him a question: “Why the name ‘Calcutta’? What’s the story?”

“It’s a long one,” he replied. Luckily for us, rogan josh prep takes a while. 

When a meal became a bridge for stories

 I’ve always believed in fate. 

But stumbling upon Calcutta, randomly, with just my stomach rumblings as a GPS, reaffirmed that belief. 

Two years ago, I’d come across the story of Ashok online and pitched it to my editor. It was approved. But I never got around to writing it. Little did I know that, later that day, much after my interview with Ashok, when I’d save his email and contact, I’d realise this was the same story I’d pitched two years ago.  

Fate. 

Ashok’s life, too, is a work of destiny. 

Calcutta, the restaurant, has been Berlin’s timekeeper since the 1960s, when it opened as one of the city’s first Indian restaurants. The name was a homage to the Indian city of Calcutta (now Kolkata), known for its colonial-era prestige. 

The food at Calcutta in Berlin is an ode to Indian cuisine that Ashok grew up on Photograph: (Ananya Mukherjee)

Back then, Ashok was still a student in India. “I grew up in Kashmir, completed my bachelor’s degree in mechanical engineering from the University of Jabalpur in 1968. My father wanted to become an engineer, and I wanted to become a physicist. But in our days, we had to follow our parents’ dreams,” he shares. 

But every trip back home, a delicious Kashmiri feast would await him. Rogan josh was his personal favourite even back then. “Family lunches and bonding over food were routine. We have so many memories of excursions to lakes in Kashmir, where we’d set up our food by a lakeside and eat. Millions of memories,” he smiles, allowing himself a mental detour into his childhood archives. 

He continues, “I did my apprenticeship in mechanical engineering at Siemens in Germany. After four years of researching the development of magnetic materials from rare earth elements, we finally had a breakthrough. But when I returned to India for a job, there weren’t any in my field of study.” 

Once again, Ashok traced his footsteps back to Germany to pursue a master’s degree. On completion, he returned to India looking for a job. But he was unable to secure one again. Now, in retrospect, all the closed doors feel like life’s sleight of hand. 

“So, I returned to Germany, once again, and tried my hand at many different jobs; I started representing prominent technological companies, then started trading. But,” he continues, after a pause, “I felt I must do something more productive.” And, an opportunity on Berlin’s Bleibtreustraße 17 street helped him find and explore his culinary voice. Ashok heard about a restaurant that was being sold, met the owner, and took it upon himself to continue the legacy. 

He would give people a taste of Kashmir in Berlin at ‘Calcutta’. 

Served prime ministers and the Queen of England 

Calcutta is a storied restaurant. Its kitchens have played host to food platters that have appeased the palates of prime ministers, delegates, and even the late Queen Elizabeth II. 

The food was Ashok’s attempt to reconnect with his Indian roots through lamb soup, lamb korma(rich, mildly spiced lamb curry with yoghurt and spices), chicken tikka (boneless pieces of chicken cooked on skewers), kebabs(meat grilled on skewers), and tandoori rotis (flatbreads cooked in a clay oven), amongst others. 

In fact, as I soon learnt, I wasn’t the only person for whom Calcutta had been an antidote to Indian cravings. The couple at the table beside me had the very same excuse! And as they admitted, this was their second visit that week. The gentleman Peter shared, “We’d been missing Indian food, and so we came here. We love the food here because it is good and reliable, and the best part is that you feel at home instantly; Ashok is full of stories. Whenever we have friends, we always bring them here; it’s an instant level of comfort and great food, of course.” 

As the official caterers of the Indian Embassy, Calcutta catered for all receptions of Indian prime ministers in Germany Photograph: (Denis J)

Calcutta is clearly a crowd favourite. And as Ashok’s next anecdotes prove, not just among the locals but also in diplomatic circles. “As the official caterers of the Indian Embassy, we catered for all receptions of Indian prime ministers in Germany. Not just prime ministers, even politicians, actors, and bureaucrats,” he shares, going on to regale me with a story of how Bollywood legendary actress Nargis made herself a cup of tea at the restaurant back in the 1960s, while the rest of the guest list featured Indian classical composer Pandit Ravi Shankar and Indian dancer Birju Maharaj. “The chickentikka part of the buffet for the Queen was prepared by us,” Ashok shares. 

My morsels of rogan josh (it arrived a while earlier) — the meat was so tender, it almost slipped off the bone — are accompanied by Ashok’s stories. “There was a certain Indian minister we were serving who was under a security threat. While a police cover had been set up for him outside Calcutta, at the last minute, we were trying to fulfil his request for a special dal(lentil stew). I remember trying to source the lentils from someone’s home since it was last-minute,” Ashok laughs. 

Then there was the time Ashok was catering for former prime minister Manmohan Singh’s reception. “The embassy had forgotten to inform us about missi roti (North Indian flatbread made with whole wheat flour and chickpea flour). The reception was in a hotel 10 km away from here (Calcutta), and we had to rush to have two missi rotisarranged for him.”