8 unique meat traditions across India that shape Holi feasts

Holi is widely associated with vegetarian sweets and festive snacks, yet across large parts of India, the festival also signals something deeper: the end of winter austerity and the arrival of abundance. Historically tied to agricultural cycles, seasonal hunting, and community gatherings, Holi often became a socially accepted moment of indulgence. In many regions, that indulgence took the form of meat cooked slowly, shared widely, and eaten after the symbolic purification of Holika Dahan. Here’s how different parts of India bring meat to the Holi table, each shaped by local history, climate, and culture...

Among Rajput communities in Rajasthan, Holi has long been followed by hearty, non-vegetarian feasts, a contrast to the sweets and snacks usually associated with the festival elsewhere. Dishes like laal maas, a deep red mutton curry built around smoky Mathania chillies and jungli maas, a stark, rustic preparation born from royal hunting expeditions, often take centre stage. Laal maas is slow-cooked in ghee with yoghurt, garlic, and dried chillies until the gravy turns rich and intensely flavoured, while jungli maas keeps things deliberately simple, using little more than meat, chillies, salt, and fat. The meal feels rooted in Rajasthan’s martial past, a communal feast that marked the seasonal shift and brought people together before the long desert summer began.

In parts of Madhya Pradesh and Chhattisgarh, Holi coincides with spring celebrations such as Bhagoria, observed by Bhil and several other tribal communities. The festival unfolds through lively fairs, dancing, and communal meals prepared in open spaces rather than formal kitchens. Food reflects this outdoor, seasonal spirit: country-style mutton curries, fire-roasted or smoked meats, and dishes shared alongside fermented mahua liquor. Meat is typically slow-cooked over wood fires with garlic, chillies, and locally available spices, allowing smoky, earthy flavours to develop instead of rich, heavy gravies. In these communities, such meals have long symbolised abundance, successful hunting seasons, and the collective joy of welcoming spring together.

In Goa, the spring festival of Shigmo unfolds around the same time as Holi, and festive tables, particularly in many Catholic households, lean toward pork dishes shaped by centuries of Indo-Portuguese influence. Celebratory meals often feature Goan choris, the region’s spicy smoked sausages, alongside sorpotel, a tangy, slow-cooked pork preparation known for its deep, matured flavour. Sorpotel is made by simmering pork and liver with vinegar, garlic, and a robust spice paste, allowing the dish to develop complexity as it cooks and rests. It is typically served with sannas, soft fermented rice cakes that balance the curry’s sharpness. The bold, vinegar-forward flavours reflect coastal preservation traditions designed for Goa’s humid tropical climate, where seasoning and fermentation played both culinary and practical roles.

In Bengal, Holi is observed as Dol Jatra, and the festive table closely resembles other Bengali celebrations, where fish and meat naturally hold a central place. Meals often include mustard-based fish curries alongside kosha mangsho, a slow-bhuna mutton preparation known for its deep, layered flavour. The mutton is cooked gradually in mustard oil with onions, yoghurt, and whole spices, patiently reduced until the gravy darkens and the oil separates, creating a rich, caramelised intensity. Rather than following a strictly vegetarian menu, many Bengali households approach the day as a complete festive feast, balancing robust savoury dishes with traditional sweets that mark the arrival of spring.

In Assam, spring celebrations that coincide with Holi often take the form of community feasts where duck, a prized ingredient in Assamese cuisine, takes centre stage. Festive meals commonly include duck cooked with roasted sesame seeds or ash gourd, accompanied by smoked meats and homemade rice beer (xaaj), reflecting the region’s agrarian rhythms. The duck is typically slow-simmered with ginger, herbs, and a paste of toasted sesame, allowing the curry to develop a warm, nutty flavour rather than heavy spice. These protein-rich dishes traditionally mark the transition into a new agricultural season, celebrating renewal, harvest cycles, and collective gathering at the arrival of spring.

In many rural parts of eastern Uttar Pradesh and Bihar, Holi unfolds in a familiar rhythm, mornings filled with sweets, snacks, and glasses of bhang, followed by a hearty mutton meal once the day’s celebrations settle. The curry is typically cooked in mustard oil, beginning with deeply browned onions, garlic, and whole spices, then slow-simmered until the meat turns tender and the gravy rich and intensely flavoured. For some families, the burning of Holika carries symbolic meaning beyond ritual, marking a moment when restraint gives way to celebration, and festive indulgence, including meat, becomes part of the day’s shared enjoyment.

Across urban North India, Holi celebrations increasingly wind down around large, shared pots of mutton or chicken biryani prepared for extended family gatherings. The dish brings people together not just for its flavour but for its sense of occasion, a meal designed to be cooked in quantity and eaten communally. Marinated meat is layered with partially cooked basmati rice, fried onions, saffron milk, and fresh herbs, then sealed and slow-cooked on dum, allowing fragrant steam to permeate every grain. Its enduring popularity lies in this practicality: a single pot that feeds many, making it perfectly suited to the easy, lingering togetherness that follows a day of colour and celebration.

In the Garhwal hills of Uttarakhand, Holi gatherings often reflect the region’s mountain food traditions, where meals are designed to provide warmth and sustained energy in cooler climates. Festive plates commonly pair slow-cooked mutton curry with mandua (finger millet) rotis and bhaang ki chutney, a nutty condiment made from roasted hemp seeds. The chutney is ground with coriander, garlic, lemon, and spices, adding a distinctive earthy flavour while remaining entirely non-intoxicating despite its name. Together, the meal reflects the practicality of Himalayan cooking, nourishing, robust, and deeply connected to local ingredients, seasonal needs, and the bold, grounding flavours of the mountains.