- The Andaman Foodie

After a relief from scorching sun and warm winds, aren’t we, the islanders feeling blessed? I think after the global warming hit the world, the islanders are the only living beings who wait for cyclones. While the administration was thinking of exporting water from other islands The Almighty opened up the sky giving the ‘Babus’ a temporary relief.

Now coming back to where we stopped, let’s talk about level 2 of food revolution in the islands. After the ‘puchkawalas’ invasion then came the samosas, cutlets, egg rolls and noodles ‘gadi’. Isn’t this sounding like our class 5th history answer for the question, ‘Who were the rulers/regimes that invaded India?’ No points for guessing which regime or clan these ‘gadiwalas’ belong to?

Anyways, we islanders were so happy with the variety we were getting at these stalls. Evenings became more happening and I stood in front of the ‘Chef’ who occasionally hit the extra-large pan with his ladle to attract more customers. So, when I first visited this stall, I decided to taste everything this ‘Bhaiyya’ was offering. He started with preparing egg rolls. Remember, health and hygiene had already committed suicide when we saw the ‘puchkawala’ dip the aaloo filled puris into the dark pot of sweet and sour water and wiped his hands to the red towel hanging to his stand!

With a table spoonful of oil (I have no idea which refined oil it was) came in the egg, some pinches of taste maker spices (which were not disclosed even after assuring ‘bhaiyya’ that I will not start my own stall). From above head storage he picked up a half cooked flat bread (for those wondering what flat bread is, it’s just a half cooked ‘maide ki roti’) which was perfectly spread on the omelette  while we were still standing there with our mouth-watering, trying to get friendly with ‘bhaiyya’. Yeah, I know, it’s very difficult to have patience when you are surrounded by fragrance of spices in the air (and that’s when we knew why British regime went crazy about Indian spices!).

The omelette is flipped, cucumber, onions, tomato sauce added with some more pinches of spices (of course not in the Salt Bea style), we stretch out our hand to grab the egg roll while swallowing the water, which was accumulated in our mouth just to realise that this was meant for the guy who was standing on the other side of the stall. I realised I have to go through the same mouth-watering, spice- filled painful process again. After few more minutes I finally receive my order of egg roll holding it as if it’s an Oscar. Immediately my left hand tries to catch the sauce that’s dripping from the bottom making the whole affair a bit messy but who cares when the taste buds are satisfied.

While munching on to the roll, my eyes are on the pan again looking at how noodles are prepared. The speed with which the ‘chef’ was mixing spices reminded me of DC series, The Flash- the fastest man alive! Suddenly I remembered that the present day Noodles are a gift from those who tortured the islanders, the Japanese which first reached Japan during the Heian period around 800AD, and became famous by late 1800s. I found out that there are thousands of varieties of noodles around the world based on the classification of the composition of noodles, the shapes of noodles, and the different gravies or seasoning. We the true islanders are yet to differentiate between capellini d’angelo, Elbow macaroni, Reginette or mafaldine, Paccheri, Gemelli, Spaghetti etc. (I am sure you will Google this!)

Finally the noodles are ready. I was wondering how ‘Bhaiyya’ will plate this large portion of noodles onto the tiny little steel plate, but he was no less than an expert. He perfectly made a little hill of these fried noodles and handed it to me after garnishing it with bits of cucumber and onion. When I turned towards the emergency light to take a look at what I received, I realised the noodles had turned native when compared to its China Town (Mainland) counterparts. I don’t want to sound racist but why did it turn out so dark?  Again, my taste buds said ‘who cares...just eat them’.

Now was the time for the cutlets and samosa. ‘Bhaiyya’ took the oval shaped balls of potatoes, fish, spices and onions from the edge of the large pan and placed it at the centre. The large spoon full of oil came towards cutlet and drenched it. Bhaiyya turned the oval shape into perfect circle, which reminded me of my geometry classes wherein even with the help of ‘compass’ and scale I couldn’t draw a perfect circle. While I was admiring the mathematical culinary expertise on the pan, bhaiyya mashed the cutlet very brutally and ‘uske tukde tukde kar diye’. May be he thought the new generation is not capable of cutting their own cutlet with their own hands. The samosa also met the same fate.

Since then I have been a regular visitor to these stalls at various places and the only mysteries I couldn’t solve was why the fish cutlet always stinks? Why the garnishing always has cucumber? (aur bhi cheezain hain duniya mai cucumber k siwa’), Why noodles change their colours when with bhaiyya and not when they are in sophisticated bowls? (Disclaimer: resemblance to any political behaviour is purely fictional)

Now these bhaiyyas are everywhere with their own group of customers. Occasionally introducing chicken and palak pakoras. And yes, I visit them regularly with fellow foodies. Do let me know what your experience of these stalls was and wait for the hero who brought style to the street food culture in the next week’s post.

And remember, Maggi is never prepared in two minutes!

Yum Yum!