Smash hit

Kumar is no misty-eyed imperialist but a member of Bangalore’s 15,000-strong Anglo-Indian community, descendents of Scottish and English families who came to seek their fortunes in the colonies.

After independence, one might have imagined Anglo-Indians would have been glad to see the back of meat loaf and sago pudding, but the community, although proudly Indian, identifies closely with Scottish and English traditions and food.

Kumar’s own grandfather was a Scot named Percy Edgar Joseph and, through the enthusiastic scribblings of her mother and grandmother, she has inherited a vast collection of Anglo-Indian recipes.

Her mince and tatties, although unsurprisingly more peppery than we’re used to, bears a striking resemblance to the one I grew up with. I was amused to hear that it occupied the same place in the Kumar family culinary repertoire as it did in my family's. “It’s what we have when I can’t think what else to make,” she says.

While we devoured the mince, kedgeree and semolina pudding, Kumar told me about her early life on the British-run Kolar Gold Fields, in Karnataka where her father worked. Although she can’t remember where the mince and tatties recipe came from, the fact she remembers more MacIntyres and MacDonalds than Malhotras and Methas in her community offers some strong clues.

I left Bangalore with a heavy stomach and even heavier heart, vowing to go back as soon as possible.

There have been some hopes dashed along the way. A few months ago, I set off for Sikkim amid rumours of Isle of Mull-style cheddar and Scots tablet. It seemed likely; the town of Kalimpong has strong Scottish links in the shape of Presbyterian minister Dr John Anderson Graham, who set up an orphanage there in the early 1900s. Sadly, I travelled 932 miles only to discover that there had been no trace of cheese or “tablet” until the arrival of Andre Butty, a Swiss dairyman and Jesuit father, in the 1950s.

And alas, I’m still no closer to uncovering the true origins of “say hello to the Queen”, although there are rumours it may have been invented by an Israeli backpacker.

We tend to think the influence is one-way, that Brits can’t get enough chicken tikka masala, and no self-respecting Indian would be caught dead eating our peely-wally fare. But there may be a huge Scottish and British culinary legacy. As my new best friend in Bangalore says, there is a whole community here that believes in a “more judicious use of seasoning”.

One worrying side-effect of the quest: I seem to be developing a memsahib-like urge to leave my own modest culinary mark on this vast nation. I’ve pulled back from plans to open a chippie in Delhi’s Connaught Place, but if you ever find yourself in the happy position of enjoying a meal on the roof of Naggar’s Hotel Ragini, gazing down the beautiful Kullu Valley, I urge you to try the chef’s special Mars Bar pakora: a little piece of Edinburgh’s Broughton Street in the heart (and arteries) of the Indian Himalayas.

Bridget Kumar's 'Mince and Tatties'

Serves six

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