ALL YOU NEED IS PLOV

As central Asia opens up to the world, Tatler speaks with the facilitators of Uzbekistan's first biennial about how art, architecture, craft and food can connect people through ideas of healing and restoration

- Aaina Bhargava

From dramatic haircuts to retail therapy, remedies for a broken heart are as varied as they come, but perhaps none are as timeless or comforting as food. The idea of a meal as a source of sustenance and healing is a universal one, central to multiple traditions.

Of the many myths and legends surrounding the origin of Uzbekistan’s national dish, plov—a hearty rice dish with vegetables, meat and spices simmered in a broth—one is based on the premise that the dish is a cure for heartbreak. A prince fell in love with the daughter of a craftsman but was unable to marry her due to their differences in social status; to cheer him up, he was fed plov, the sustaining, comforting qualities of which eased his misery. It is this tale that that inspired the theme of the Bukhara Biennal, titled Recipes for a Broken Heart.

The biennale’s curator, Diana Campbell, who is also the artistic director of the Dhaka Art Summit, was thinking of rice and the culture of eating it when tasked with putting together the programming. “I’m always thinking of different ways to map the world,” says Campbell. “If you think about rice cultures, from Brazil to Portugal to West Africa, it’s a different way to map the world. You learn a lot about a place from its staple foods.”

From Spain’s paella to the pilafs or pulaos of South Asia, a version of plov exists across cultures. “It’s a kind of comfort food you don’t typically cook just for one person. It’s about sharing community and celebration,” says Campbell. “Specifically with plov, you see settled and nomadic cultures mixed because you cannot be nomadic and grow rice, but the spices in the dish reflect histories of trade,” she says, emphasising the dish’s reflection of layered and complex Uzbek and Central Asian histories and identities.