The word curry is a topic sure to rankle desis; the debunking of this colonial category is the rare cause that can unite desis of all origins and persuasions in a chorus of righteous indignation. And rightly so: The reduction of the subcontinent’s rich foodways to this one invented label has caused any number of ills, not least the viscous glop known as tikka masala, and more than a few upset stomachs.

But just because curry isn’t authentically Indian doesn’t mean it isn’t authentically… something. Today’s New York Times has a review of a new book called “Curry: A Tale of Cooks and Conquerors,” by Lizzie Collingham — a book I’m excited to read, despite the kind of horrible cover art that has Manish breaking out in hives. It invites us to follow as curry spread around the world, picking up bits and pieces from each culture like some syncretistic religion. Curry may or may not be Indian, but it sure is global:

Samoans make a Polynesian curry using canned fish and corned beef. … Lots of diners would balk at curried chicken Kiev, but not Ms. Collingham. … One of her goals, in tracing the evolution of curry and the global spread of Indian cuisine, is to pull the rug out from under the idea that India, or any other nation, ever had a cuisine that was not constantly in the process of assimilation and revision.

Books about a single food are a bit of a trend these days; at their best, like Cod, they offer a compelling alternate take on a major slice of world history; others, like The Potato, seem limited by their subject matter. This one seems especially rich, because the “food” whose story it tells is one itself born of cultural encounter, miscegenation and conflict.

The British, in this story, become less the corrupters of a culture than the unwitting enablers of a global cultural exchange that exceeds their own ability to imagine, let alone cook. They are left with tikka masala and curry chips, while the more interesting hybrids pop up elsewhere. For instance:

the “Mexican-Hindu” cuisine that appeared in California in the early 20th century when Punjabi laborers integrated jalapeño peppers and tortillas into their native dishes.

If anyone knows where that cuisine is served, give me a shout. I’m free for dinner.