I was based out of Delhi in my first job. Delhi brings very few nice memories for me - could somehow never relate to the city. The few things that I did like were its winters, Dilli Haat, Sirifort and .... Sher-e-punjab Dhaba ;-). I am sure there any number of dhabas with this name, the one that I am talking about is located in Okla-III industrial estate - bang opposite the bus stop. I was a tech support engineer and one of our customer’s plants was located there.
Sher-e-punjab was where we used to have lunch. This is one of those roadside dhabas that you find in crowded cities. Cramped, dusty, narrow dining areas with tables packed into the little space that is available and a ’’kitchen’’ thats on the road during the day and gets locked up inside during the night. The only thing big about the place is its hoarding that spans two shops.
Not an easy place to access, you have to perform a mandatory acrobatic over a wooden walkway placed over a ’’wet or dry depending on the weather’’ ditch. A hop skip and jump later you are in front of the cash counter. The counter is manned by one of, what must obviously be, two brothers. Lips curl into the begining of a smile - a vendor acknowledging a regular customer.
You then walk into the crowded, tightly packed, noisy dining area and try to find a place under a fan. The ’waiter’ of course goes out his way to help you in this effort. Its a place frequented by the labour from the nearby factories and anyone looking reasonably dressed stands out, and anyone who orders anything more than ’’aloo mutter and tandoori roti’’ automatically qualifies for VIP treatment.
You finally find a seat facing the road (you will shortly know why) and place your order. You are now ready for the performance of the day. Two balls of dough pulled out of a lump. One ball picked up, a sprinkling of poppy seeds and nan no.1 is soon cooking in the interiors of the tandoor. The kadai is next placed on the stove and the smell of melting desi ghee hits you. It is soon joined by the equally appetizing smells of various spices and frying onion. A couple of minutes later the crackling sound of daal being poured into the kadai. An expert twirling of the pan, and the ghee lights up. And just when foot high flames begin to lick the air, your daal makhni flows into the serving dish - flames and all. Out comes the naan, now a wonderful golden brown and in the distinctive teardrop shape. A generous spread of ’’amul’ butter and three equal pieces cut out of it. As a final touch a blob of butter dropped into the serving dish (you will have noticed how we have been moving from daal to nan - thats the way it is, timing matters here). Very soon a heady mix of the most heavenly smells gets closer and then you have it on your table. Your daal makhni and nan, with the makhan still slowly melting into the daal. You tear out a piece of nan, dip it into the daal and immediately get transported into another world.
The vehicle need not always be the daal makhni. You can (must??) also try the channa masala, mix veg and the shaahi paneer. And before I forget, the pudina parathas are absolutely out of this world. The odd thing (odd for its appearance) about this place is in the excellent quality of the raw material used.
So there you have it - the best ingredients, the freshest vegetables and almost perfect cooking combining to deliver an awesome eating experience, in the most unlikely of places.
You are now two pieces down on that hopelessly irresistible nan and, if you cared to look up, you would have noticed the second ball of dough being picked up at about the same time that you take your first bite of the third piece. And just about when you are on the last bite, the heavenly smell of desi ghee again. Ten minutes later you are licking your fingers and cursing the almighty above for having given you such a small stomach.
You walk up to the counter. Lips curl into the begining of a smile - an artist acknowledging an eternal fan. A sluggish - afterall you are heavier by an excellent lunch and lighter by only Rs30 - jump, skip and hop; a mandatory acrobatic and you are back in the real world.
Amen.