That Brahmin-led culture also defined ‘good’ coffee as pure coffee and rejected chicory outright. This was reinforced by the perception of chicory as an adulterant, sometimes added to coffee without the consumer’s knowledge while charging them full price.

Dr. Venkatachalapthy cites a Tamil short story by Pudumaippithan called ’Kadavulum Kandasami Pillaiyum’ where both of these Brahmin perceptions are displayed in a conversation between the protagonist and Lord Shiva inside a coffee hotel.

 “As God sipped the coffee, a divine demeanour of having drunk soma suffused His face. ‘This is my leelai (wonder),’ said God. ‘This is not your leelai, but the hotelier’s. Mixing chicory with coffee is his handiwork. Show your mettle when you pay the bill,’ whispered Kandasami Pillai into his ear, content that he had sorted out the issue of paying for the coffee. ‘Chicory … what’s that?’ God looked up quizzically. ‘Chicory powder resembles coffee, but it is not coffee—like those who deceive people in the name of God,’ replied Kandasami Pillai.”

I learned that this idea still exists when I told a Bengali friend about my search for chicory-coffee and they asked why I wanted “adulterated” coffee. They acknowledged that their perception was inherited from a grandparent and that they never tried it themselves, but it was interesting to see the association alive and well. Back in colonial Tamil Nadu though, eventually even the Brahmins developed a liking for chicory and it became the accepted. Today traditional south Indian coffee is blended with anywhere from 10-40% chicory. But now there is a new wave of coffee culture spreading across the country, and it may challenge chicory’s place.

Modern cafes are now widespread in India, frequented by students and young professionals more for socialising than for the coffee itself. This reflects a café culture rather than a coffee culture. Every coffee grower and industry leader I spoke to from Kerala to Kalimpong told me this was the greatest challenge to revolutionising Indian coffee culture: Beyond the South, there is no coffee culture.

Coffee growers and industry leaders in India are trying to build a culture around specialty coffee, which emphasizes high-quality, single-origin beans and often promotes drinking it black to fully appreciate the inherent flavors. I’ve asked every grower I met for their opinion on chicory. All have dismissed it while respectfully citing its importance to the South. However, sweeteners, creams, flavorings, and other modifiers added to coffee after it is brewed are more readily embraced, revealing an inconsistency in the treatment of chicory.

One man avoided this inconsistency in an almost comical way. I went to his specialty café in Calicut looking for chicory-coffee and was told that he doesn’t carry any additives at all. No milk, no sugar, not even other beverages. Just specialty coffee served black. He explained that there is a lack of familiarity with quality coffee there and he’s trying to provide it in his own way. His purity-based standard of ‘good’ coffee was dogmatic — he even dislikes serving French press, which is on his menu, because it leaves a little sediment in the cup — but I respect what he’s doing because he’s honest and does it well. Though perhaps he is too honest. When I initially told him I was looking for chicory-coffee he responded, “Oh, I only serve good coffee.”