Just as there are places I keep going back to, there are a few food books I keep buying. Among the places I visit over and over again are Manali and Landour; on top of the books’ list is a nondescript slim volume called The Dhabas of Amritsar: The Cookery Bbook with a Difference by Yashbir Sharma. When I first picked this book up, I had no idea what a treasure it was. Now, anytime anybody wants to know anything about the food of Amritsar, I gift them a copy of the book.
I think Amritsar has more dhabas — humble, roadside eateries — than any other city. I love the food of dhabas; or I did when dhabas were still dhabas. Now, of course, most of them are upmarket restaurants with liveried staff and menus that run into pages. But those days when I used to drive up to the hills, half the fun was in stopping at a highway dhaba for crisp tandoori rotis, hot kaali dal and aloo-zeera. In Ambala, the mutton curry at Puranchand ka dhaba was delicious, in Giani’s at Dharampur, the lemon chicken was excellent, and I still remember the taste of the pepper chicken I had in Haldwani.
But when it comes to Amritsar, the dhabas are the stuff of legend. Among the most famous city eateries are Kesar, Pal, Bharawan, Brothers, Friends, Chachey da Dhaba and Surjeet Makkhan. And these are just some of them.
Going fishing
The book’s author went in search of a recipe for the melt-in-the-mouth Amritsari fish. The dhaba owners were not very forthcoming: who wants to share a golden goose, after all. “I asked for the recipe, which took some effort. One person went to the extent of saying that the marination is a closely guarded secret. The other stall-owners said, “Apply salt and sprinkle garam masala and fry in oil!” But I managed to find the so-called secret recipe of Amritsari fish for you,” Sharma writes. Marinade the fish in malt vinegar and let it stand for half an hour. Dry it with a paper napkin. Now mix it with yoghurt, ginger-garlic paste, a beaten egg, lemon juice, ajwain, red chilli powder and salt. Coat the fish in gram flour and deep fry.
He writes about the city’s famous dal, chholey kulchey, tikkis, lassis, mutton tikkas and brain fry. He stops at a pakora outlet and gives the recipe for the delightful chutney that enhances the taste of the fritters. For this, dissolve a walnut-sized ball of tamarind in water for at least an hour. Squeeze out the water. Blend the extract with 500g boiled potatoes, 50g chopped radish leaves, 50g mint leaves and 100g chopped green chillies. And serve with crispy hot pakoras.
I enjoyed the story about the paye (trotter soup) that he had at Pal’s. He was in Amritsar once with a bad stomach. He couldn’t even take a sip of water without having to rush to the loo, but found himself following the aroma of paye ka soup steaming in Pal’s dhaba. Our author couldn’t stop himself from asking for a bowl of the nourishing and tasty broth. “Fearing the worst, I decided to go for it. I slowly finished the entire consignment… I waited for a few minutes and nothing happened. I ordered a refill and my stomach illness was mysteriously cured,” he writes.
If you are going to Amritsar, you should get a copy of this book. If you are not going to the holy city, get a copy anyway. It gives you a guided tour of the city’s eateries. And, believe me, it’s almost as good as getting to taste the food.
The writer, who grew up on ghee-doused urad dal and roti, now likes reading and writing about food as much as he enjoys cooking and eating. Well, almost.
