No longer on the sidelines
Started as humble roadside cafes in the mid-20th century, dhabas can now be found across India, and devotees can get their fix of authentic dishes at either their favourite family eatery or the legion of high-end choices that have sprung up in their wake.
As a kid, growing up in Delhi, I was thrilled when my parents announced our annual visits to extended family in distant cities during the holidays. It was a joyous occasion to spend time with my beloved grandparents, aunts, uncles and cousins who we barely saw the rest of the year. However, as much as I revelled in these family reunions, I was equally excited about the pit stops we’d be making en route at our favourite dhabas to savour delicious food.
Dhabas – derived from the Hindi word “dabba”, meaning “lunchbox” – are highway cafes that pepper Indian roads like confetti. Characterised by mud structures, casual seating on charpoys (a light, woodframed woven cot) and rustic decor, they offer weary travellers home-cooked food prepared in clay ovens (tandoor) in an unpretentious environment.
As soon as we’d pull up, we’d be shepherded by the waiter (usually called “chhottu”, or the little one) to a charpoy where a wooden plank would materialise, to be placed across the cot’s width. On this would be placed all our favourite dishes: unctuous chicken curry (its meat falling off the bone); asafoetida-infused potato curry and sarson ka saag (mustard greens curry).
The pièce de résistance was the velvety kaali dal (black lentil) simmered overnight on embers and anointed with blobs of white butter. And into this delicious mess we’d dunk crisp naan after naan and eat till our stomachs hurt. It was our idea of culinary heaven.
Dhabas have come to define a culture centred on food. For me, however, they will always remain culinary signposts of unforgettable family-style meals marked by much joy and camaraderie.
Though the origins of the Indian dhaba are nebulous, it is believed they sprung up in the mid-20th century on the Grand Trunk Road, one of Asia’s oldest thoroughfares that connects Central Asia with the Indian subcontinent. The shacks would serve hungry truck drivers while also allowing them to relax on the cots before they hit the road again to transport goods to distant places. “Dhabas sprung up after the interlinking of cities during British rule through highways,” says historian Abha Jhujjar. “As they were located on crossroads, their dishes reflect a mélange of culinary influences from Persia, Afghanistan and Central Asia. The eateries also played a pivotal role in feeding people during the IndiaPakistan partition in the 1940s, when hordes crossed over from one nation to the other.”
Today, however, most dhabas are found next to petrol stations, where trucks stop for refuelling, and are open 24 hours a day. Many have upgraded their wares and expanded their menus. Apart from charpoys or plastic tables and chairs, some offer separate airconditioned areas.
Over the century, certain dhabas have even acquired legendary status, such as the three-decades-old Murthal Dhaba, in the north Indian state of Haryana, which serves more than 50 types of stuffed parathas topped with dollops of white butter.
Giani Da Dhaba, on the Shimla-Kalka national highway in the northern state of Himachal Pradesh, is a destination for foodies who drive from far-flung places to partake in its layered parathas served with pickles and tall glasses of creamy lassi.
So successful has been the dhaba template that even high-end restaurants have replicated it. The Dhaba restaurant at The Claridges, New Delhi, has been running for more than 35 years offering “authentic Indian cuisine that can be enjoyed with family and friends”, says the five-star hotel hotel’s award-winning executive chef, Vivek Rana.
The eatery provides an immersive dining experience through its rustic, kitschy decor. Think jute stringknitted furniture, a display of rural utensils, and a lifesize truck stationed inside. The use of traditional brass or copper utensils – just like in the real dhabas – adds another touch of authenticity.
The menu promises Punjabi dishes crafted from
fresh ingredients and home-made masalas: there’s the meltingly tender balti meat, butter chicken and the flavour-charged kanastree baingan (hot aubergine curry), to name a few.
“For me, dhabas were the original flag bearers of sustainable and responsible businesses much before the term became fashionable,” says Rana. “They offer fresh food, support local farmers, recruit locally and use the best local produce, cutting down food miles. Even their spices are blended in-house and, because there are no refrigerators, all the food is fresh and consumed the same day.”
Hong Kong-based Indian chef Manav Tuli, who runs the one-Michelin-star Indian restaurant Chaat at the Rosewood Hong Kong, recalls how he grew up eating dhaba food in India.
“I still remember as a child when we used to go on a picnic with friends and families, we would always stop at a dhaba for our meals,” he says. “It used to be a very leisurely affair, where you go and lie down on the charpoys, the parents would have a few lassis, the kids would be playing around. The dhaba owner would ask for our choice, even which chicken we would like from the ones roaming around the dhaba!”
Tuli fondly remembers the flavours of dhaba dal – often made with chana dal (split chickpeas) and urad dal (black gram), sometimes with rajma (red kidney beans) – tandoori rotis, mukki pyaz (smashed raw onions) and chaas (a buttermilk drink). “Rotis were followed by rice topped with a generous spoon of ghee,” he says.
Such is Tuli’s love for dhaba food that he has even incorporated one of his favourite dhaba dishes into the menu at Chaat – the Champaran mutton curry, a popular lamb curry from India’s eastern state of Bihar. He has also hosted a cooking class for guests to learn how to make a dhaba-style chicken curry, which he says was extremely well received.
Just as dhaba food has been reinterpreted, the dhabas of today have evolved from catering primarily to truckers and long-distance travellers to appealing to families escaping the urban whirligig as well as trekkers and pilgrims. In fact, along famous Indian pilgrim routes, dhabas can take care of Hindu religious sensibilities by offering pure vegetarian food, with no onion or garlic.
Increasingly, market forces have pushed these eateries into catering to millennials’ tastes as well, resulting in fusion dishes such as the Chinjabi (a portmanteau of Punjabi and Chinese) chow mein and Indianised pizzas with toppings like chicken tikka or paneer, garnished with garam masala.
Be that as it may, the central focus at most dhabas are tandoori dishes, because most villages in Punjab still honour a tradition of the sanjha chulha (a common oven) for making bread in a central place, where women would get their dough, bake it and gossip.
Numerous dhabas are family-run operations employing mostly migrant workers, who left for their native villages during the pandemic. With business badly affected, many were forced to shut down.
Fortunately, the worst seems to be over for these eateries. They are now back in demand as travel has opened up in India, with footfall surpassing prepandemic levels thanks to the phenomenon of
“revenge travel”.
“We open the dhaba at 4am and are busy till midnight. We have to shut operations for four hours just to get some shut-eye and prep the food,” says Sanju Prakash, of the eponymous Sanju ka Dhaba located on the outskirts of Gurgaon, a city southwest of New Delhi. “However, during the pandemic we were badly hit as all our migrant workers had gone back to their villages and there was no footfall.”
Dhaba enthusiasts are ecstatic that their favourite eateries have finally thrown open their doors once again. Manoj Sikka, a Delhi-based businessman who recently travelled with his family to the northern Indian city of Amritsar, says he ate at his favourite dhaba, Kesar da Dhaba, en route.
The iconic establishment dates back to 1916, and the entrepreneur enjoyed a meal “just like the last three generations of my family have been doing”. The dhaba serves only vegetarian fare as it is situated on the pilgrim route to the Golden Temple, offering popular dishes such as dal fry (slow-cooked overnight and tempered freshly), lachha paratha (flaky, layered oven-cooked bread) and paneer delicacies.
“We ordered all our favourite dishes – dal fry, naan, paneer as well as a tangy mango pickle,” says Sikka. “The meal was cooked fresh and it touched my soul like no other in a very long time.”