Hidden in the quieter corners of the internet — past the noise, beneath the hashtags, beyond the digital bustle — lives a legacy brined in tradition and bottled with love. It’s a legacy sautéed in cold-pressed oils, cured with patience, and seasoned with sendha namak (Himalayan pink salt). It’s the story of a woman who turned the ancient art of pickle-making into a timeless heirloom. And it all began with a kilo of mango pickle.
This is the story of Shyamlata Sihare, the matriarch behind Old Fashioned Gourmet — also known as Aravali Foods — a brand that, since 1993, has been quietly revolutionizing the way India thinks about achaar, papads, squashes, and spices.
From White Saris to Red Chillies: A Woman Before Her Time
To understand the soul of Old Fashioned Gourmet, you must first meet its spirited founder.
Shyamlata Sihare’s journey is not one you’ll find in business textbooks. It’s stitched into the folds of white cotton saris worn in widowhood — a life imposed on her at just 16. Pre-independence India had few choices for a young widow, and none that included ambition.
“She was blamed for my father’s death,” her daughter Vasundhara Jhunjhunwala shares. “Her in-laws turned against her.”
Rescued by her maternal grandfather, Shyamlata returned to her parental home — a space governed by decorum and confinement. Leaving the house was rare; dreaming even rarer.
And then, one day, she dropped a bombshell: she’d been accepted to Michigan State University for an MA in advertising.
Vasundhara, now 50, still marvels at how her mother pulled it off. “It’s one of the greatest mysteries of her life,” she smiles. “I wish I’d asked her how.”
Spoons, Spices, and Second Acts
After returning from the U.S., Shyamlata remarried, joined her husband’s family business, and carved her space in Delhi’s testosterone-soaked paper market — becoming the first woman paper merchant in that space. A woman selling paper among gruff men with ink-stained hands? Scandalous. And utterly fabulous.
But at 65, when most retire to the background of family life, she decided to create something personal. Something lasting. A brand.
With nothing but a kilo of mango pickle and a lifetime of heirloom recipes, she launched Old Fashioned Gourmet — a tribute to the art of traditional Indian food, curated with a Marwari precision and matriarchal passion.
The Kitchen, the Alchemy, the Legacy
“She always said pickle-making was an art,” Vasundhara explains. “You begin by sourcing the best ingredients — never compromise. You sort, you sun-dry, you hand-pound. No shortcuts.”
That spirit now runs through every jar the company produces: tangy lemon ajwain, fiery lal mirch Banarasi, rustic gajar-gobi-shalgam — each one echoing Sihare’s bold yet grounded palette.
Vasundhara took over the business after her mother passed away in 2014. And though the reins were passed, the compass remained fixed: What would Amma do?
When a batch of expensive red chilli powder self-heated and burned during a test for Mangalore-style ghee roast masala, the staff panicked. “It was still usable, but not perfect,” Vasundhara recalls. Her decision was immediate: discard all 30 kg.
“Because Amma wouldn’t settle.”
Ingredient Stories, Not Just Ingredient Lists
In a world where mass production blurs taste into sameness, Old Fashioned Gourmet leans hard into specificity. Their mangoes? From one select region in Gujarat. Their strawberries? Sourced from a single farm on the outskirts of Delhi. Even their chia preserves are rooted in terroir.
Vasundhara doesn’t just collect recipes — she excavates them. She sifts through yellowed notebooks, faded margins, handwritten notes with turmeric stains and ajwain-scented memories. That’s where she found the mint salt — a zesty blend of 25 spices and mineral salts, born from obscurity, now starring on modern snack platters.
And the gajar-gobi-shalgam pickle? It wasn’t just a recipe revival; it was a pilgrimage.
“I searched everywhere. Finally, a dear biji — someone’s grandmother — shared her Punjabi winter recipe.”
It now tops the brand’s sales charts. But for Vasundhara, revenue isn’t the full story.
“There are people who taste our pickles and say, ‘I haven’t eaten anything like this since my grandmother passed.’ That’s the real success.”
The Business of Emotion
In every spoonful of Old Fashioned Gourmet‘s offerings is a whisper of history. A taste of someone’s childhood. A time capsule of culture.
“When passion drives you instead of commerce,” Vasundhara reflects, “decision-making becomes simple.”
In the shimmering jars that line her shelves — redolent with mustard oil, clove, jaggery, hing — lies more than just flavor. There’s courage, too. Tenacity. A woman’s will to live boldly, in full color, when the world demanded grayscale.
So, when the kitchen throws her a curveball — or life does — Vasundhara pauses, smiles, and asks:
“What would Amma do?”
The answer is always the same.
Make a pickle. Of course.