City Food – The Archaeology of the Pavement Golgappa Stall, Connaught Place
Street food beyond food.
[Text and photos by Mayank Austen Soofi]
You raise it up with your naked hand, insert it into your mouth and the rest is indescribable. Great shivers run down your entire being. It is mysterious that a modestly-sized crispy shell filled with spiced potato, chickpeas and tamarind water can secrete so much pleasure.
Golgappa is one of Delhi’s most common street snacks. Its pavement vendors are seen wandering across the city.
One evening The Delhi Walla comes across a golgappa stand in one corner of the Colonial-era Connaught Place. The seller is nowhere to be seen but his stall stands as a mute testament to the most elemental archaeology of the city’s street food civilization.
I’m strictly referring to all the distinct parts that make up a mobile street food stall–they are easy to assemble.
The golgappa container rests on a tirona, a wooden tripod sold for a meager 150 rupees in Old Delhi’s Khari Baoli. The bottom of the tirona has a basket for customers to dispose off their used bowls. A piece of folded cloth called aeeroa (see photo 4 below) is discreetly placed between the tirona’s wooden bars. Stall owners put on this protective headgear before placing the golgappa platter on the head.
Soon, the stall owner, Gajendra Singh, appears (see top photo). He has come to dismantle the booth. He quietly places the aeeroa on his head, picks up the large golgappa case, carefully balances it over his headgear and walks away to another part of Connaught Place with the tirona held around his arm.
The making of a food stall
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Just this afternoon, I wait behind 2-3 people in the line (its just after a heavy shower on a working day) and when my turn comes order ‘Do plate golgappa’. It is one of the old style chhat shops gone upmarket, to suit the Gurgaon mall culture. I pay, get a slip and the young man at the counter asks ‘khane ke liye ya pack karna hai?” and I ask him to pack it for me. So the poories go into one plastic bag, the aloo-chana into anothger and the 2 types of paani into plastic bag 3 and 4. All of this goes into a larger bag – and when I get home and my mother sees the packet, there is a broad smile. Its one of her favorite snacks too – what ever maybe the dynamics of its sale, it is the most delightful of all snacks.
Just this afternoon, I wait behind 2-3 people in the line (its just after a heavy shower on a working day) and when my turn comes order ‘Do plate golgappa’. It is one of the old style chhat shops gone upmarket, to suit the Gurgaon mall culture. I pay, get a slip and the young man at the counter asks ‘khane ke liye ya pack karna hai?” and I ask him to pack it for me. So the poories go into one plastic bag, the aloo-chana into another and the 2 types of paani into plastic bag 3 and 4. All of this goes into a larger bag – and when I get home and my mother sees the packet, there is a broad smile. Its one of her favorite snacks too – what ever maybe the dynamics of its sale, it is the most delightful of all snacks. And after enjoying the delicacy, I open my laptop and see this post – I do miss the dynamics of the mobile vendor, the fact that I no linger feel confident eating from them, that my street transactions have slowly undergone an attrition…… really enjoyed the post
Aeeorna must be Bihari language, in Haryanvi it is called Indi इंडी.
that round cloth thing you place on head to carry heavier load e.g. matka, etc is called इंडी in Haryanvi