<p>Before the Swiggy and Zomato boom had busy professionals digging into sleek modern takeout bowls of rice, noodles, curry, and meat, there was a time when the humble banana leaf or paper parcel was the ultimate companion for those on the move. Imagine a steaming, aromatic bundle wrapped in a banana leaf — crammed with perfectly cooked rice, flavourful curry, and vibrant vegetables. This eco-friendly packaging was more than just a practical solution; it was a slice of nostalgia.</p>.<p>Today, this traditional wrapping remains a cherished part of the culinary culture around the world, manifesting itself in various regional forms like Kerala’s pothi choru, Sri Lanka’s lamprais, and Malaysia’s nasi lemak. Each version is a testament to how timeless and versatile this simple compact sustainable packaging with its delicious components can be.</p>.<p><strong>A fusion of flavours</strong></p>.<p>Dechen Dolkar, who hails from Nepal, explains that in the rural regions of the country, traditional food is still parcelled using banana leaves, cloth, or bamboo baskets. Consisting of delectable delights such as potato, bamboo shoot grilled meat, rice, dal, roti, cured vegetables, curd and Nepali puffed doughnuts and savoury pancakes, dhindo (similar to ragi mudde), the food is often wrapped or placed in layers within the parcel and then tied securely with string or folded and pinned with toothpicks.</p>.<p>“This method of parcelling keeps the food fresh and also adds a unique flavour to it. In some cases, dried leaves or grass are also used to wrap the food, providing additional insulation and protection. This traditional method of parcelling food is not only practical but also adds to the cultural significance and authenticity of the cuisine,” says Dechen, owner of Utse Suites & Kitchen, a boutique hotel that specialises in Himalayan cuisine.</p>.<p>The Burmese too have an interesting take on the parcel meal, observes Ankit Gupta, founder of Burma Burma, who witnessed and sampled it first-hand during his many travels to the nation. “It’s a healthy portion of rice, meat, curry and pickle — all wrapped in a banana leaf or newspaper that they open and eat every few hours. It’s consumed not only on highways but even in markets and other busy areas of cities by office-goers,” he notes.</p>.<p>This culinary adventure of tasting “one dish with a good mix of ingredients” inspired Ankit to introduce the ‘Highway Meal Parcel’ from Yangon on the 10th-anniversary menu of Burma Burma — a meal of steamed rice and curry, accompanied with a salad, veggies, pickles and fresh herbs. The interesting aspect of the entire experience, Ankit reflects, is that every time he took a new route, the parcel’s components too changed based on the region.</p>.<p><strong>A taste of childhood</strong></p>.<p>Thanks to the growing interest surrounding pan-Asian cuisine, Malaysia’s national dish nasi lemak needs no introduction anymore. A complete package, nasi lemak consists of coconut rice, cooked to perfection with creamy coconut milk and aromatic pandan leaves, infusing each bite with a rich, fragrant essence.</p>.<p>Accompanying this is sambal, a fiery chilli paste that packs a punch with its blend of onions, garlic, and dried shrimp; a hard-boiled or occasionally fried egg crowns the dish, adding a touch of simplicity to the intricate flavours and crispy ikan bilis (anchovies) introduce a delightful crunch and saltiness, while roasted peanuts contribute a nutty, satisfying texture. Often featuring additional proteins like fried chicken, rendang, or fried fish, the parcel also packs in fresh cucumber slices which offer a refreshing counterpoint to the spiciness of the sambal, balancing the dish.</p>.<p>“Traditionally wrapped in a banana leaf with an additional layer of newspaper, in a pyramid shape, nasi lemak has always been a cherished breakfast staple from back home. I fondly recall how, most mornings, my mom would bring home a bundle of nasi lemak and leave it on the table, ready for us to wake up and enjoy,” reminisces well-known pastry artist of Lavonne Café and team lead of the popular Malaysian restaurant Kopitiam Lah – Joonie Tan. “Sometimes, she would take us to visit a roadside vendor aunty who sold it. We’d eagerly choose our own selection of meats and vegetables, and in a jiffy, the aunty would skilfully wrap the entire meal into a neat triangle-shaped package,” she adds.</p>.<p><strong>The Indian ‘Pothi’</strong></p>.<p>Closer home, Kerala has its version of the packaged goodness in the form of the hearty pothi choru — a vibrant tapestry of flavours, consisting of fragrant rice (choru) accompanied by spicy vegetable curries, crispy fried fish, tangy pickles, and crunchy papadam. The term pothi, meaning parcel, is akin to the modern bento box and refers to the containers created using readily available banana leaves and newspapers for packaging.</p>.<p>For Tresa Francis, pothi choru is more than just a meal — it’s a nostalgic journey intertwined with the rhythms of train travel. “Everyone’s pothi was different. You could put in whatever you fancied. It was perfect — lunch packed in biodegradable wrapping that you could toss away and roam footloose and fancy-free,” recollects the chef and founder of Coracle at Bangalore International Centre, highlighting the personal touch that each pothi choru embodies. As a child, Tresa had her own unique twist. “I hated ‘sambar’, so my pothi always had kachimor, meen varuthathu, beef ullarthiyathu, manga chammandi, beans thoran with manga achar. I also had banana chips with it,” she adds with a touch of nostalgia.</p>.<p>In a time when eco-friendly practices are more critical than ever, these age-old traditions offer not just delicious meals but also lessons in sustainability and mindfulness. More than mere containers — these delicious packages are a celebration of heritage, resourcefulness, and respect for the environment.</p>
<p>Before the Swiggy and Zomato boom had busy professionals digging into sleek modern takeout bowls of rice, noodles, curry, and meat, there was a time when the humble banana leaf or paper parcel was the ultimate companion for those on the move. Imagine a steaming, aromatic bundle wrapped in a banana leaf — crammed with perfectly cooked rice, flavourful curry, and vibrant vegetables. This eco-friendly packaging was more than just a practical solution; it was a slice of nostalgia.</p>.<p>Today, this traditional wrapping remains a cherished part of the culinary culture around the world, manifesting itself in various regional forms like Kerala’s pothi choru, Sri Lanka’s lamprais, and Malaysia’s nasi lemak. Each version is a testament to how timeless and versatile this simple compact sustainable packaging with its delicious components can be.</p>.<p><strong>A fusion of flavours</strong></p>.<p>Dechen Dolkar, who hails from Nepal, explains that in the rural regions of the country, traditional food is still parcelled using banana leaves, cloth, or bamboo baskets. Consisting of delectable delights such as potato, bamboo shoot grilled meat, rice, dal, roti, cured vegetables, curd and Nepali puffed doughnuts and savoury pancakes, dhindo (similar to ragi mudde), the food is often wrapped or placed in layers within the parcel and then tied securely with string or folded and pinned with toothpicks.</p>.<p>“This method of parcelling keeps the food fresh and also adds a unique flavour to it. In some cases, dried leaves or grass are also used to wrap the food, providing additional insulation and protection. This traditional method of parcelling food is not only practical but also adds to the cultural significance and authenticity of the cuisine,” says Dechen, owner of Utse Suites & Kitchen, a boutique hotel that specialises in Himalayan cuisine.</p>.<p>The Burmese too have an interesting take on the parcel meal, observes Ankit Gupta, founder of Burma Burma, who witnessed and sampled it first-hand during his many travels to the nation. “It’s a healthy portion of rice, meat, curry and pickle — all wrapped in a banana leaf or newspaper that they open and eat every few hours. It’s consumed not only on highways but even in markets and other busy areas of cities by office-goers,” he notes.</p>.<p>This culinary adventure of tasting “one dish with a good mix of ingredients” inspired Ankit to introduce the ‘Highway Meal Parcel’ from Yangon on the 10th-anniversary menu of Burma Burma — a meal of steamed rice and curry, accompanied with a salad, veggies, pickles and fresh herbs. The interesting aspect of the entire experience, Ankit reflects, is that every time he took a new route, the parcel’s components too changed based on the region.</p>.<p><strong>A taste of childhood</strong></p>.<p>Thanks to the growing interest surrounding pan-Asian cuisine, Malaysia’s national dish nasi lemak needs no introduction anymore. A complete package, nasi lemak consists of coconut rice, cooked to perfection with creamy coconut milk and aromatic pandan leaves, infusing each bite with a rich, fragrant essence.</p>.<p>Accompanying this is sambal, a fiery chilli paste that packs a punch with its blend of onions, garlic, and dried shrimp; a hard-boiled or occasionally fried egg crowns the dish, adding a touch of simplicity to the intricate flavours and crispy ikan bilis (anchovies) introduce a delightful crunch and saltiness, while roasted peanuts contribute a nutty, satisfying texture. Often featuring additional proteins like fried chicken, rendang, or fried fish, the parcel also packs in fresh cucumber slices which offer a refreshing counterpoint to the spiciness of the sambal, balancing the dish.</p>.<p>“Traditionally wrapped in a banana leaf with an additional layer of newspaper, in a pyramid shape, nasi lemak has always been a cherished breakfast staple from back home. I fondly recall how, most mornings, my mom would bring home a bundle of nasi lemak and leave it on the table, ready for us to wake up and enjoy,” reminisces well-known pastry artist of Lavonne Café and team lead of the popular Malaysian restaurant Kopitiam Lah – Joonie Tan. “Sometimes, she would take us to visit a roadside vendor aunty who sold it. We’d eagerly choose our own selection of meats and vegetables, and in a jiffy, the aunty would skilfully wrap the entire meal into a neat triangle-shaped package,” she adds.</p>.<p><strong>The Indian ‘Pothi’</strong></p>.<p>Closer home, Kerala has its version of the packaged goodness in the form of the hearty pothi choru — a vibrant tapestry of flavours, consisting of fragrant rice (choru) accompanied by spicy vegetable curries, crispy fried fish, tangy pickles, and crunchy papadam. The term pothi, meaning parcel, is akin to the modern bento box and refers to the containers created using readily available banana leaves and newspapers for packaging.</p>.<p>For Tresa Francis, pothi choru is more than just a meal — it’s a nostalgic journey intertwined with the rhythms of train travel. “Everyone’s pothi was different. You could put in whatever you fancied. It was perfect — lunch packed in biodegradable wrapping that you could toss away and roam footloose and fancy-free,” recollects the chef and founder of Coracle at Bangalore International Centre, highlighting the personal touch that each pothi choru embodies. As a child, Tresa had her own unique twist. “I hated ‘sambar’, so my pothi always had kachimor, meen varuthathu, beef ullarthiyathu, manga chammandi, beans thoran with manga achar. I also had banana chips with it,” she adds with a touch of nostalgia.</p>.<p>In a time when eco-friendly practices are more critical than ever, these age-old traditions offer not just delicious meals but also lessons in sustainability and mindfulness. More than mere containers — these delicious packages are a celebration of heritage, resourcefulness, and respect for the environment.</p>