The first time I landed in India, I was wide-eyed and broke, clutching a backpack and a dream to see it all. Goa’s beaches called me first, and I’ll never forget the thrill of that salty breeze—until I saw the ₹200 price tag on a fish thali at a beach shack. My heart sank. I’d budgeted ₹500 a day for food, stays, everything—and that one meal was about to blow it. That’s when I decided: I’d cook my own meals, no matter where this journey took me. Over months of hopping from Goa’s shores to Delhi’s chaos, Mumbai’s buzz to Bangalore’s calm, I turned cooking into my travel superpower. It saved me thousands of rupees, kept me healthy, and let me taste India my way. Here’s my story—and how you can do it too.
The Spark: Why I Started Cooking on the Road
It all began in McLeod Ganj, a Himalayan hill town where I’d planned to stretch my rupees over a month. I’d been gorging on ₹50 momos from street stalls—steamy, delicious, but oily enough to make my stomach grumble in protest. One evening, I wandered into my hostel’s tiny kitchen—a rusty stove, a chipped pot, and a shelf of borrowed spices. A fellow traveler was frying onions, the smell pulling me in like a magnet. “Why pay ₹100 for dinner when this costs ₹20?” he grinned, tossing me a tomato. That night, I cooked my first meal on the road: a sloppy mix of rice and spices that cost me ₹25. It wasn’t pretty, but it was mine—and it sparked a mission.
Cooking while traveling in India became my way to save cash—₹50 meals beat ₹200 restaurant bills every time. It let me control what went into my food—no mystery oils, just the flavors I craved. And the best part? I could dive into India’s markets, turning cheap veggies and spices into dishes that felt like home, wherever I was.
The First Lesson: Gearing Up in Goa
My first big test came in Goa. I’d pitched a tent on Arambol Beach, determined to live cheap. But cooking on sand? I needed gear. In Panjim, I haggled at a cluttered market stall, snagging a single-burner gas stove for ₹600. The vendor threw in a dented pot and a steel plate for ₹300 more—my whole kitchen in a bag. Back at camp, I added a spoon, a spatula, and a pocketknife from a roadside shop for ₹80, plus a ₹50 plastic container for leftovers. Spices were next—salt, chili powder, turmeric, and cumin from Mapusa market, all for ₹40 in tiny packets I stuffed into my backpack.
That first night, I lit the stove under a starry sky, the ocean humming nearby. I boiled rice I’d bought for ₹10 and fried onions with a ₹5 sprinkle of spices. The result? A ₹20 meal that tasted like victory. Sure, the pot wobbled, and I nearly singed my fingers, but I’d learned: you don’t need much—just enough to start.
Finding My Kitchen: From Hostels to Hills
Cooking’s only as good as your spot, and India threw me some wild ones. In Rishikesh, I checked into a hostel overlooking the Ganges. The kitchen was free—two burners, a sink, and a view that made chopping veggies feel holy. I simmered ₹15 lentils into dal one morning, the aroma mixing with river mist. The hostel owner grinned, “Better than my wife’s!”—high praise for ₹30.
In Kasol, a hippie haven in Himachal, I stayed at a homestay where the host charged me ₹100 to use her stove. She watched me fumble with paratha dough, then handed me a rolling pin with a laugh. “Add more oil,” she said, and soon I had golden flatbreads for ₹20—crisp outside, soft inside. Campsites were trickier—I hauled my stove to Kheerganga’s meadows, cooking rice by a stream. No rent, just nature and a ₹25 meal under the stars.
Once, in Varanasi, my guesthouse had a hot plate. I negotiated ₹50 to use it, turning ₹15 potatoes into a stir-fry while boatmen sang on the Ganges below. Each spot taught me: ask, adapt, and you’ll find your kitchen anywhere.
Market Magic: Shopping Like a Local
India’s markets became my playground. In Goa’s Mapusa, I wandered past fish stalls and veggie carts, bargaining for ₹15 tomatoes and ₹20 potatoes—enough for days. The trick? Buy small—two meals’ worth keeps it fresh and light. In Delhi’s Sadar Bazaar, I scored onions and garlic for ₹10 each, plus a ₹5 bunch of coriander that made my rice sing. Mumbai’s Crawford Market was a maze—₹40 rice, ₹20 bread, and eggs at ₹6 a pop. I’d chat with vendors, flashing a grin to shave off a few rupees.
Spices were my secret weapon. In Jaipur, I filled ziplocks with turmeric, cumin, and garam masala for ₹50—enough to last a month. Every town had its haat or mandi—weekly markets where ₹10 got you herbs and ₹30 bought lentils. I learned to spot the busiest stalls; crowds meant freshness. Once, a vendor in Bangalore’s Russell Market tossed me free chilies—my stir-fry that night had an extra kick.
Cooking Tales: My Favorite Recipes
My meals started simple, born from what I could carry and cook fast. Here’s how they unfolded:
Masala Rice in Hampi
I’d just climbed Matanga Hill, sweaty and starved. Back at my guesthouse, I boiled ₹10 rice in my pot, then fried a ₹5 onion with cumin and chili powder—₹5 more from my stash. A splash of ₹5 oil, 15 minutes, and I had a steaming bowl of masala rice for ₹25. It wasn’t fancy, but against Hampi’s ruins, it felt like a feast.
Dal Tadka in Rishikesh
By the Ganges, I craved comfort. I boiled ₹15 lentils until soft, then chopped a ₹10 tomato and fried it with turmeric and salt—₹5 worth. A drizzle of ₹5 oil, a sizzle, and my ₹35 dal tadka was ready. I ate it cross-legged, watching sadhus pray—warm, cheap, and soul-soothing.
Veg Stir-Fry in Bangalore
Koramangala’s hostel kitchen was packed, but I nabbed a burner. I’d bought ₹15 mixed veggies—carrots, beans, peas—from Russell Market. A quick sauté with ₹5 spices and ₹5 oil, and my ₹25 stir-fry was crisp and colorful. A traveler next to me swapped me a bite of his pasta—cooking’s a universal language.
Parathas in Delhi
Paharganj’s chaos called for carbs. I kneaded ₹10 flour with water and a ₹2 pinch of salt, rolled it thin, and fried it in ₹5 oil. My ₹17 parathas were golden and flaky—perfect with a ₹5 pickle packet. I made extra, sharing with a bunkmate who dubbed me “Chef India.”
City Stories: Cooking Across India
Each city shaped my cooking game:
Goa’s Coastal Kitchen
Beach shacks charged ₹200+, so I cooked fish from Mapusa—₹80 for a small mackerel, fried with ₹10 spices. My campsite stove flickered, but the meal was fresh and mine for ₹100 less than a shack plate.
Stay: Top Budget Hotels in Gokarna Under ₹1000.
Delhi’s Street Smarts
Old Delhi’s oily chaat tempted me, but I stuck to my ₹20 parathas in a Paharganj hostel. Veggies from Sadar Bazaar—₹15 potatoes—kept costs low and my stomach happy.
Stay: Best Budget Hotels Near Varanasi Ghats Under ₹800.
Mumbai’s Fast Fixes
Colaba’s ₹15 vada pavs added up, so I cooked ₹30 rice in a guesthouse. Crawford Market’s grains and eggs—₹20 total—made quick meals between train rides.
Explore: Best Day Trips from Mumbai.
Bangalore’s South Indian Twist
Cafes wanted ₹150 for dosas, but I made mine for ₹25 in Koramangala. Russell Market’s ₹40 lentils turned into a mini thali—healthier and cheaper.
Stay: Top Budget Hotels in Pondicherry Under ₹1000.
The Savings: Cooking vs. Eating Out
Here’s how it stacked up:
| Meal | My Cost | Restaurant Cost | What I Saved |
|---|---|---|---|
| Masala Rice | ₹25 | ₹120–₹150 | ₹95–₹125 |
| Dal Tadka | ₹35 | ₹150–₹200 | ₹115–₹165 |
| Veg Stir-Fry | ₹25 | ₹150–₹200 | ₹125–₹175 |
| Parathas | ₹17 | ₹80–₹120 | ₹63–₹103 |
In a week, I saved ₹1,000—enough for a train ticket or two!
Road-Tested Tips from My Journey
- I started with rice and spices—easy and forgiving, even when I burned the edges.
- Markets were my lifeline—₹15 veggies beat ₹50 packets, and vendors loved a haggle.
- Cooking extra saved time—I’d make dal for dinner and lunch, stretching ₹30 into two meals.
- Borrowing pots from hosts cut costs—saved me ₹200 in Pushkar.
- Tiny spice packets—₹5 each—lasted weeks, turning bland into bold.
- No stove? I toasted bread on a hostel kettle once—worked in a pinch!
- Sharing with travelers halved costs and doubled the fun—Kasol’s paratha night was epic.
Bumps and Fixes
No kitchen? I’d use my stove or eat cold—bread and fruits for ₹20. Limited space? One-pot meals like dal-rice were my savior. Short on time? I’d buy pre-chopped veggies—₹5 extra but fast. Safety? Washing hands and cooking fresh kept me sickness-free.
FAQ: My Answers to Your Questions
Is cooking cheaper than eating out?
Yes—₹50 vs. ₹150 per meal. Saved me ₹1,200 in Goa alone.
What’s the easiest road meal?
Parathas—flour, water, oil. Ten minutes, done.
Can I cook anywhere?
Most hostels say yes—campsites too. Just ask.
Is it safe?
Always—busy markets, clean hands. Never a problem.
The End of the Tale: Cook and Conquer
Cooking across India turned me into a traveler who could eat well, save big, and feel at home anywhere. From Goa’s fish fries to Delhi’s paratha mornings, it’s been my secret to stretching ₹500 into a week of wonders. You don’t need much—just a stove, some grit, and a taste for adventure. Try it—your next meal could be your best story yet. Got a travel cooking tale? Share below—I’d love to hear!
Happy cooking!