When geopolitical tensions flare thousands of miles away, the consequences can show up in the most unexpected places — like the missing samosa on a menu in Jaipur, or a cup of chai that just doesn’t taste quite right.
Ongoing conflict involving the United States, Israel, and Iran has effectively disrupted traffic through the Strait of Hormuz, one of the world’s most critical energy corridors. For India, a nation that sources roughly 85% of its liquefied petroleum gas from the Middle East, the ripple effects are being felt not in boardrooms but in bustling street kitchens and family-run restaurants across the country.
WHEN THE GAS RUNS OUT, THE FOOD CHANGES
India’s government has responded to the supply crunch by redirecting available LPG away from commercial establishments — canteens, hotels, and restaurants — to prioritize households and keep domestic stoves burning. It is a logical policy decision, but one with deeply cultural consequences.
For restaurant owners and street food vendors, the shortage has forced an unwelcome choice: adapt or shut down. Many are turning to induction cooktops as a substitute. The problem is that Indian cooking was never designed for electric heat. The cuisine is built on ferocious flames, heavy cast iron, and the kind of sustained, intense heat that transforms raw ingredients into something extraordinary. Induction hobs, however efficient, simply cannot replicate that.
Chetan Singh, who runs Gulabji Chai in Jaipur — a city famous for its food culture — has already felt the impact firsthand. Iconic items including buttered buns and samosas have been pulled from the menu entirely. These are not minor offerings; they are the reason people line up outside his establishment. The samosa, with its golden, blistered pastry shell and spiced filling, depends on violently hot oil maintained over a gas flame. Without it, the result is a limp, pale imitation of the original.
Even the chai has suffered. Singh has attempted to brew his signature spiced tea on an induction top, but acknowledges it lacks the depth and aroma that come from an open flame. Gas stoves, he insists, impart something intangible — a heat and character that electricity simply cannot deliver.
DOSAS, DOMES, AND DIFFICULT DECISIONS
In Mumbai and Delhi, the impact is equally stark. Akhil Iyer, who founded the popular dosa restaurant chain Benne Dosa, has been creative in his response — switching to induction for idlis and fried items wherever possible. But his flagship dish, the dosa, is non-negotiable in terms of method. A trial run on induction produced results that fell far below his standards. The dosa demands a seasoned cast iron surface and direct flame to achieve its signature crispness.
At one Mumbai branch, dosas have been suspended entirely after the kitchen ran down to its final gas cylinder. In Delhi, service continues at reduced capacity.
Meanwhile, panic is spreading. Induction cooktop sales surged dramatically in recent weeks as households and businesses scramble to adapt. The Indian government, for its part, has ramped up domestic LPG refinery output by approximately 38% and launched crackdowns on hoarding, seizing thousands of cylinders in raids across the country.
Two vessels carrying tens of thousands of metric tons of LPG reportedly crossed the Strait of Hormuz over the weekend, offering a sliver of hope. But uncertainty remains.
Iyer is already exploring alternatives — even traditional firewood, though he hesitates due to environmental concerns. What he refuses to consider, however, is permanently removing dosa from his menu. It is, after all, the very reason Benne Dosa exists.
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