The delightful old-world dhaba – The Hindu

The special tea at a dhaba is unmatched in taste.
| Photo Credit: Getty Images

I had a chance to visit an American diner recently. The skillets consisted of huge portions of hash browns with our choice of eggs. There were options of various types of meat as main and side dishes for the non-vegetarians. For the eggetarians and vegetarians, there was a vegetarian skillet. Unlimited American coffee kept flowing.

The price and size of the meal reminded me of our very own once-ubiquitous dhaba. As children, during school holidays, we accompanied our father on his tours to interior towns in Bihar and Jharkhand. Our journey in a closed jeep took us through thick dark jungles such as the Danua and Bhalua jungles near Barhi.

There were dhabas strategically situated in various points along the way. A stop at the dhaba was a sojourn in culinary heaven for us. My mother loved the singharas and special chai, and my father loved the ghee roti served with moong dal tadka, raw onion and green chillies. We children loved them all, though not so much the chillies. The food was fresh and hot, and the rotis came straight from the tawa to our plates. We watched the singharas bubble in oil and marvelled at the skill of the chef turning the singharas with consummate ease. Sometimes, they made jalebis, a fascinating process, as the chef squeezed batter into the hot oil with a turn of his wrist, much like a dancer’s hand mudra. I tasted Irani chai later in Hyderabad, but the chai at the dhaba was out of this world. It was a rare treat for me, as at home, it was always Bournvita for us.

It was interesting to see the other travellers resting on the charpoys spread outside. The truck drivers sometimes talked with our driver who later told us of the various States in India they hailed from. They all universally loved the food. My father liked talking to them in his heavily accented South Indian Hindi. We siblings were afraid they would laugh at him, but they never did.

It has been half a century since those travels, but we agree that we have not tasted food more delicious than that at the dhabas there. My mother says she is still looking for those singharas and that special chai. The fragrance of the rotis baking on the tawa and the no-masala dal tadka is fresh in my memory and has pepped me up during some of the more difficult times of my life.

Modern-day dhabas do not seem to hold the same charm. Today’s youngsters have a wide choice of comfort food such as pizza, donuts, pakoras, ice-cream, and rolls, but I wonder whether these rival the delightful taste of the simple old dhaba fare.

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