I first noticed this outside my building gate. For years, there’s been an “aunty” who arrives promptly at about 12.30 every afternoon, with big steel dabbas and steel plates. She lays all her dabbas in a row on a makeshift table, and the plates in a pile. No sooner has she set up, a crowd starts gathering around her, all in perfect order and discipline. At 1 pm sharp, the lids of her dabbas are opened, and the aroma of freshly home-cooked Chicken Masala, Prawn Curry, Aloo Rassa, Chicken Liver Sukka create a hungry stir among the waiting customers. Another small container reveals slices of freshly fried fish and a heap of rotis, and nearly a bucketful of rice or khichdi. For over eight months, there was no sign of her. Suddenly she’s reappeared, hopefully signalling the return of the street food vendor.
What’s Delhi Gorging on?
This is the story that seems to be retelling itself in most places, where street food thrives as an inherent culture. Like Delhi’s Chandni Chowk, for example. You wouldn’t even think there was a pandemic. I spoke to friends in Delhi who with great joy announced that the parathas are frying and the dahi bhallas are being slurped up in Purani Dilli.
At Safdarjung Enclave, near Kamal Cinema, fried fish is back on the menu at Rajinder da Dhaba along with their legendary Chicken Curry and rice. So is Kulachi Ke Mashoor Chhole Kulche on the little stall in front of Hansraj Model School. With those spicy chhole garnished with freshly chopped coriander and a squeeze of lemon juice, accompanied with tangy imli chutney, served with fresh kulchas smeared with butter, Delhi is indeed back in action. The city which honestly offers the best street food in the world is once again dishing out chaat, fruit chaat, gol gappas, aloo tikkis, banta soda (Delhi’s local lemonade), Ram laddu, tikkas, seekh, galouti and the rest, as Bhuvanesh Khanna, of BW Hotelier, tries to tempt me with.
Indore’s buzzing again
Or as foodie, builder and my friend Rahul Fadnis, announces, “Food has returned to the streets in Indore as well”. The sun rises in this city of food with poha, usal and jalebi in the wee hours of the morning at 56 Dukan, which literally means 56 shops. When this street food market first started there were 56 shops here and hence the name. Today, the market which opens at 6 am and stays open till 10 pm is the place for street food, from the straight and narrow chaats to hot dogs, colloquially called Benjo. The most famous being Johnny Hot Dog. The hot dogs are iconic and are actually fresh bakery bread with a patty or tikki inside. They are available in mutton, chicken and veg variants and, believe it or not, Johnny Hot Dog was adjudged The ‘Most Popular Menu Item in Asia Pacific’ at an UberEats Future of Food Summit not so long ago.
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The other street in Indore is, of course, the famous Sarafa Bazar, a jewellery street which turns into a food plaza at night known for the Bhutte ka Kees (a grated corn khichdi), Garadu (yams in chaat masala, chillies and lemon juice), Daal Bafla, (a ball of wheat and semolina dipped in ghee) served with daal, churma and chutney. And my favourite, the Jaleba, which is jalebi of gargantuan size and gigantic flavour.
Rediscovering an old favourite
As for me, after a couple of single malts at the Harbour Bar, at the grand-old Taj Mahal Palace hotel at Apollo Bunder in Mumbai, all served under the utmost Covid protocol, we threw caution to the wind and sauntered down to a back lane to eat some kebabs from the legendary Bade Miyan. Now I stopped eating there years ago. My so-called evolved palate had starting rejecting the rough and coarse street-side kebabs for the likes of those at ITC’s Bukhara and Kebabs and Kurries. That fine marinated and barbecued meat had coddled my taste to a point that I’d quite eschewed Bade Miya unless it was late at night and you had no place to go.
As we turned the little alley behind the Taj Palace hotel, you could have forgotten that we were living in Covid times. It was like Mardi Gras in Colaba. Scores of people eating out of paper plates on top of their car bonnets, against a background of smoke and light. Aromas of fresh kebabs fired up on skewers. Waiters, car attendants, servers, water-boys all zig-zagging to accommodate and service the crowd. We found our spot too and my friends ordered from memory. Seekh kebabs, Chicken Fry with extra chillies, Bheja Masala and Dry Kheema Masala, with hot whole-wheat rumali rotis, chopped onions and wedges of lemon and long uncut green chillies on the side. We had such a good time. The food was hot, and freshly made, the flavours though rough and boorish were attractive and delectable. I actually regretted having ignored that street and its food for over 20 years.
And above all, on that hot sultry Mumbai night I realised that the street food vendor of India plays much more than a gastronomical role in our lives. He too is one of our frontline fighters.
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