Word On The
Street
The Street Food Festival organised by the
National Association of Street Vendors offers food that’s interesting and quite
terrific but the regional variations are being slowly eroded
I try and go every year
to the Street Food Festival organised on the grounds of Delhi’s Jawaharlal
Nehru Stadium by the National Association of Street Vendors. I go for three
reasons. The first, and most important, is that the National Association of
Street Vendors does great work in standing up for the rights of roadside food
vendors, who are the most abused and exploited people in the entire food
business. I feel that all of us, who have some involvement in the food
business, should do whatever we can to support the vendors, most of whom
struggle to feed their families while being shaken down by policemen, municipal
authorities and nearly everyone else in a position of authority.
Secondly, anyone who
writes about food must pay attention to the food of the Indian street. The kind
of chaat that appeals to the middle class constitutes only a tiny part of
India’s street food scene. The street food vendors exist not to please you, me
and the other readers of Brunch, but to provide daily sustenance to all Indians;
to those who can’t go home for lunch, often work too late to eat dinner at home
and can’t even afford dhabas. They eat on the streets not because it is fun but
because they have no choice.
And finally, I go every
year simply because I have a great time. The food is always interesting, some
of it is quite terrific and the National Association of Street Vendors turns
the grounds of the stadium into a mela with stand-up comics and live music.
Here are some of the trends I noticed this year.
Bread
Rules:
There was a time when
street food vendors liked to make their own wheat dough for dishes: the puris
for golgappas, samosas, kachoris etc. That now seems to be changing.
More and more of the
street food guys are using commercial, pre-packaged, store-bought white bread
as their primary staple. I reckon the trend towards bread in street food
started in Mumbai where the Goan pao first made it to Mohammed Ali Road and
began turning up in keema-pao and various other dishes. It was then adopted by
the Gujaratis of the Cotton Exchange for bhaji and most recently, became the
basis of the Marathi hamburger, the Vada Pao.
But what’s popular this
year is not pao, which can be difficult to source but sliced bread of the sort
that vendors in Mumbai only ever used before for the Bombay Sandwich.
Presumably, this is because commercial bread is easy to find all over India.
At stall after stall, run
by vendors from all over India, bread turned up again and again. It was the
centre of many omelet stalls. Usually they put the bread on the tava as the
omelet was cooking so that the egg wrapped itself around the bread. There were
endless deep-fried battered sandwiches, too. The bread pakora had, as we shall
see, spawned a whole family of knock-offs.
Potato+Bread:
If there is one thing I
loathe it is the starch-on-starch sandwich. So you won’t find me enjoying the
Mumbai vada pao or even the Gujarati dabeli, which, in my view, is a disgrace
to one of India’s great cuisines.
Clearly, I am in a
minority of one in a country where even American fast food chains are forced to
serve aloo tikki burgers. And judging by the stalls at the Festival, bread and
potato have become like an old happily married couple
I am an equal opportunity
loather so I also loathe the bread pakoras so beloved of Delhi canteens. But
like some mutating virus, the bread pakora has turned into a whole series of
deepfried sandwiches. The general principle at many stalls was that no matter
what the sandwich contained, it had to be battered and deep-fried.
I hung around some of the
stalls to see what was the most popular sandwich. The clear winner was a white
bread sandwich with a masala dosa-type potato filling, battered and then deep
fried till the edges were crisp.
I would rather have the
masala dosa myself but I guess this sandwich is easier to make and more
filling.
Amul:
All Gujaratis are pleased
when our cuisine finds popularity all over India but I am a little ambivalent
about the triumph of Amul, arguably the greatest brand to come out of Gujarat.
At counter after counter,
Amul products occupied pride of place. At some stalls, they charged extra if
the dish was made with Amul butter. At some, the vendors kept a plastic carton
of Amul cream by their side and added it to ‘premium’ products. There was also
an inexplicable (to me, at least) obsession with grated Amul cheese. It ended
up as a garnish on dish after dish.
Some of this may have to
do with the Indianisation of pizza. An omelet stall was offering ‘Pizza
Omelet’. Intrigued by this unusual combination, I asked the vendor to make me
one. (It was his top-priced, highly-premium speciality.) He put the egg mixture
in the pan, rolled it around a slice of bread and then as the omelet was nearly
ready, added pizza-toppings: sliced tomatoes, peppers and grated cheese.
“Dekho. Yeh pizza bangaya!” he told me proudly. Well, okay!
Manchurian:
I am continually shocked
by the ability of ‘Manchurian’ to penetrate the heartland. Stalls from all over
the country were serving some version of Manchurian. A vendor from Hyderabad
offered ‘Ponna Tea’. And then, almost as an afterthought, he had pasted a piece
of paper with a new specialty on the menu: “Hyd. Spl. VEG MANCHURIAN”. A
Karnataka stall offered ‘Manglore bhajji, Ragi Roti with chatni, Gobhi
Manchurian”.
Since when did Gobhi
Manchurian become so popular on the Mangalore streets?
I tried making
conversation with some of the stall holders to find out when Manchurian became
an integral part of the Indian street food scene. I waited for them to tell me
that there was new demand for this previously unknown dish. In fact, they
looked at me as though I was mad. Did I not know what Manchurian was?
One or two guys even
offered to explain to me exactly what it was. So, I gave up.
Chicken:
There were fewer
non-vegetarian stall overall this year. I don’t know why this should be so but
the folks at the National Association of Street Vendors told me that in Delhi,
some vendors had been harassed by officials for selling nonvegetarian food.
Of the stalls that did
sell non-vegetarian dishes, chicken was the clear favourite. There seemed to be
two reasons for this. The first, according to vendors, was that people prefer
to eat chicken when they eat out. The second, they said, was that chicken was
easier to procure nowadays while meat supplies from butchers had become
erratic. Make what you will of that.
North-South:
It is one of the ironies
of the Indian street food scene that while the South has given us the three
most popular pan-Indian fast food items – dosas, idlis and vadas – there is no
real chaat tradition in much of South India.
One consequence of this
is that the street food vendors of say, Kerala bring their curries and biryanis
to the street food festival providing an authentic taste of Kerala without
recourse to Amul butter, grated cheese or Modern bread.
But the Southern vendors
are nearly always at a disadvantage because their food requires authentic
ingredients and sliced bread and cream are not enough. At a Hyderabad chilli
pakora stall, the guy who ran it complained to me that though he had scoured
Delhi looking for flavourful chillis he simply had not been able to find them.
Kushi Muhammad, who has
sold biryani in Calicut for 15 years was downcast by his failure to find the
right rice in Delhi. He had brought his masalas with him, he said. But he had
assumed that he would get the smaller grained Kerala rice in the nation’s
capital. When he couldn’t find any, he was reduced to making his biryani with
normal rice (and chicken). I thought it tasted fine but he kept apologising for
the inauthenticity.
And
Finally:
Anyone who believes that
food trends don’t trickle down should see what street vendors are making. These
guys never bothered with cheese, pizza, Manchurian, cream, different qualities
of butter etc. till a decade ago.
There is much to admire
in their ingenuity. But personally, I was saddened to see that regional
variations are being slowly eroded. With each passing year, all street food
vendors (especially in North and Western India) make food that is more and more
alike.
VIR SANGHVI
HTBR 4FEB18
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