Dhaba diaries

Rocky Singh & Mayur Sharma
Rocky Singh and Mayur Sharma write for Sunday Times about the unusual, unexpected and unknown eating experiences they have had in some of India’s most amazing dhabas.

More than 80,000 km, 600 eateries, 2000 different dishes. That’s what we’ve done in the last 5 years.
Why do we do it? It’s simple, really.

If you take the foods of the world on one side and the foods of India on another, our pile would easily tilt the scales. In our years of travel we’ve yet to repeat a dish, and we won’t have to even if we go on for another 5 years.

If the joy of discovery is the motivation that keeps us going, the incentive is eating and talking about true Indian cuisine found across the country – something that countless millions savour each day as they head for work, stop on a journey or take their families out on vacation.

There’s another, very gratifying thing that we realised through our endless trips. The love for our foods does unite us. Let’s start at the top – Ladakh. High up in the Himalayas lies the barren desert of sand and snow. “Our land is so harsh that only the best of friends or the fiercest of enemies will ever visit us” goes an old Ladakhi saying.

The Manali-to-Leh road which we took is kept open for just a few months in a year. At the high passes the hostile weather can block the stretch anytime.

In season – peak summer – small dhabas spring up to serve hot vegetables, rotis, dals, instant noodles, offering a place to sleep for as little as Rs 100 per night.

We asked the owner of an interestingly-named dhaba called ‘Zing Zing Bar Restaurant’ why he braved the -20 degrees chill for sparse business. “Many guests come to Ladakh,” he said. “If they get stuck at the passes it can be very dangerous.

I’m here because you are all our guests and we Ladakhis know how to take care of our guests.” The Ladakhi food he gave us was smoked yak meat with khambir (bread).

Up in those heights, the gudgud cha is had all the time – a green tea salted and rich with butter.
Most eateries in Ladakh will have a long thermos type tea maker at the door for visitors. But the food here is designed to keep you alive at this altitude; taste is not very important.

The favourite is thukpa, a stew/soup of anything that you can find, mostly carrots, potatoes, onions, wheat strips, yak meat, mutton, chicken, and cooked in a hearty meat stock along with noodles. Salt is the only seasoning used.

Far in the east is Nagaland. The Nagas have perhaps the most varied diet in all of India in respect to the ingredients. But finding a true Naga eatery is difficult even in Kohima. We found one, though – the ‘Chingtsuong restaurant’ in Kohima.

Asked for authentic Naga cuisine, the owner replied: “Can you eat our Naga food? It’s very strong on flavor and chilly.” To our amazement we found out that when the Nagas say ‘strong’ they mean ‘stronnnnggggg.’

Fermented meats, ‘akhuni’ pork (pork cooked with long, fermented soya beans paste), ‘kellu’ (woodworms), grasshoppers, hornet grubs, fermented fish with Naga king chilly (the hottest natural chilly in the world) were all powerful and difficult tastes to negotiate, but negotiate them we did. We, of course, drew the line at the dog meat.

The rest went down easy. The grubs and the worms were rather tasty. The ‘kellu’ was fried with a chilly paste and tasted a bit like corn when done. The Nagas are a fiercely proud people and come across as being a little aloof.

 Breaking through the food barrier always helps. The owner sat with us and we laughed and joked like we were old friends. At the end of the meal, he refused to take any money from us.