Soft, pillowy, and blistered with char from a clay tandoor, India’s favourite bread is a canvas for gravies, a vehicle for indulgence, and an emblem of India’s love affair with flour and fire. Slathered with butter, stuffed with cheese or garlic, folded into wraps or torn by hand, its warm, chewy comfort belies a tale of ancient migrations, royal kitchens, and evolving tastes.
The word “naan” simply means bread in Persian, and early versions were flatbreads baked on hot stones or inside primitive clay ovens. When the Delhi Sultanate established itself in India in the 13th century, it introduced the tandoor and the technique of baking leavened bread. It was in the royal Mughal kitchens, however, that naan truly came into its own. The emperors favoured rich, delicate bread leavened with yeast or yoghurt, sometimes perfumed with saffron or sprinkled with dried fruits and nuts. Court poets even wrote verses in praise of varieties baked in sealed clay ovens and served with fragrant meat stews. For the Mughals, the naan was a refinement on a plate.
Over the centuries, this elite indulgence made its way into everyday kitchens. Tandoors became common across North India, particularly in Punjab, where communal ovens once fed entire neighbourhoods. Here, naan took on more rustic, hearty forms. Made with flour, brushed with ghee or butter, and slapped onto the tandoor’s hot inner walls, it was a daily staple and a festival treat alike.
Modern-day naan continues to evolve. The rise of restaurants in colonial and post-independence India helped popularise versions like butter naan, garlic naan, and cheese naan, adaptations that would eventually travel the globe. From roadside dhabas to five-star kitchens, naan has kept pace with the changing palate without ever losing its old-world charm.
So the next time you tear into a piece of naan, know that in every charred bubble and buttery bite, there lives a story of emperors and travellers, ovens and evolution, and a simple bread that rose to become an icon.
