Lunching in Old Manali

Naggar had been an utter disappointment. I had expected something more grand, more opulent, and certainly more derelict. Naggar was supposed to be home to a haunted castle, and hence the expectation, however, all that we found was a rather well kept bungalow being passed off as a castle - forget haunted. The Roereich estate was a damp squib too. To lift up the spirits, I was looking forward to a good lunch. Didn't want anything too fancy, just some paranta and curd/dhahi. Some butter would do fine too. And so, with thoughts of good food occupying our minds, Vatsa and I made it back to Old Manali a little after noon.

Old Manali can be a very depressing place. It is over crowded. Tourists here, tourists there, tourists every where, and my pet peeve - one ways! Manali beats Bangalore in the number of one ways. I was reminded of Bangalore. Hmm....

If you search for food - your eyes will catch South-Indian meals advertised all over. What the..? You didn't travel from South-India to Himachal Pradesh to eat Taai-Sadam or Idly vada and Masala Dosa. You need your Parantha's and stuffed Shimla mirch.

Vatsa was also of the same opinion. No south Indian idly-vada-dosa for us. So, our first quest of the afternoon was to find a Non-south Indian restaurant. We were probably the few desi tourists who openly referred to the Lonely Planet - India guide. Don't get me wrong, it is a fantastic guide, but most desi's would consider it an affront to use it ;) "Its my country, who are these firangs to tell me about it?" will be the first response, which will be soon followed by "You paid 1000 rupees for that book??? What?? Are you out of your mind??". So, to avoid the risk of being ridiculed by my country men, I discretely opened my copy of the guide, and looked under "Eating - Manali"....

Cafe Amigos, hmmm.. Spanish?? Nah... it is a German bakery! Defies logic if you ask me, but that is besides the point. I am not critiquing Hotel names, I am merely trying to find a nice North Indian place to eat. So, no German/Spanish bakeries please. Next.

Chopsticks - Chinese place, specializes in Tibetian... hmm... no good, will taste that in Leh. Not now.

Mayur - waiters fussing over napkins. What the efff?? Nothing pansy for us... (Not to mention too expensive...)

Mom's Kitchen - "tastes like Mom used to make back home". Hmm... "Back home", as in Mangalore or as in England?? My guess was England, something the next sentence confirmed - "tasty mashed potato". The only place for mashed potato is inside a paratha or pani puri or Masala Dosa.

I'd almost given up by now, and next one in the list irked me some more - Swamiji's Madras Cafe. Aaarggh! I wouldn't go to a hotel which advertised itself so blatantly as a Idly-Vada-Samabar place. Even if it were the only surviving hotel during a nuclear winter. "Why O' God why? What sin did I do that you make me eat Idly-Vada-Sambar in North India?", I thought.

Now you know why any self respecting, normal, desi dude would look down on The Lonely Planet. It just wasn't written for us! The target market is totally different. You have to be an Idly or continental cuisine fanatic, and I qualified as neither.

The next two restaurants in the list saved the book form being consigned to the closest garbage bin. And of course, the paucity of the aforementioned garbage bins in public places coupled with my misplaced civic sense would have prevented me from throwing garbage in public anyways.

By a method of elimination (i.e. lack of other alternatives) we zeroed in on Kwality Sher-e-Punjab and Original Sher-e-Punjab. The names themselves inspired confidence of being able to provide quality Dal Fry and Alu-dhay-paranthay. "These two restaurants abut each other, one on the left, one on the right, perhaps even share a common kitchen", said the guide. I think the author of the guide was just trying to get done with the "Indian" section in a hurry. Can you think of any other explanation?

My mind began chanting the words "Sher-e-Punjab. Sher-e-Punjab. Sher-e-Punjab....", and in its echoes it effortlessly drifted to a roadside dhaba run by a friendly Sardarji welcoming me with a glass of tall cool lassi, and that is exactly what I began searching for. The concept of being in the middle of a bustling town was lost on me. I yearned for the open roads, and the roadside shacks which routinely serve hot rotis and lip smacking dal fry. The reality was... hmm.. well... quite disappointing. Sher-e-Punjab turned out to be this hole in the wall, and definitely adjacent to Original Sher-e-Punjab. Kwality was more gaudy, and both were equally choc-a-bloc with people.

Waiting outside gave us a sense of what to expect on the inside. Honeymooning couples coo-chi-cooing, while feeding each other Bhel puri; hyper active kids demanding ice cream before their full course meal of - soup, starter, masala papad, one butter naan and one sabji. It was the suburbia that we all thought we had left behind.

Back to the first detail - Honeymooning couples... nah forget them, they seem to be everywhere. And so does Bhel Puri, even in Sher-e-Punjab! Yup, serving Bhel Puri in a hotel called Sher-e-Punjab. Blasphemous! You might as well serve masala papad in an Italian restaurant.

Our expectations from Sher-e-Punjab considerably lowered as we entered, for we were struck by uncanny resemblance it had to the "Darshini" from down south. Exact look and feel, minus the standing crowd. Square bathroom white tiles on the walls; a picture of Balaji adorning the cashier's desk. The works! Continuous parallel mirrors lined facing walls from waist height and above. It gave a sense of being at a barber's shop. Maybe it was really a barber's shop before the Original decided it could do with some expansion and bought out the barber, with a wicked ransom. Someone must have told them about mirrors making the place look larger. Yes, that must be it. Sigh. The waiter was in no hurry to reverse our assessment either. He explained very politely, "We do not make Alu-de-paranthe. "

Yes. I repeat. Sher-e-Punjab no Alu Parantha. It took us a while to make our peace with this cruel joke and settle for at least roti and Baingan Bhartha. Incredulously, the waiter replied, "Sir, we do not make Baingan Bhartha either".

"How can you not have Alu parantha and Baingan Bhartha in a hotel claiming to the pride of Punjab?", we indignantly asked the waiter.

"What to do sir, most of the crowd wants Pani puri and Mysore Masala Dosa these days", the waiter lamented.

Market economics... sigh... what a crappy situation. But then we got to got deal with it, so we just ordered for some Naan, some paneer and some dal fry. The usual ghantan gopal that you order at the around-the-corner-restaurant in your home town. Is that why you traveled all the way across the country? To eat Masala Dosa? Who are you? Campus Man*?

It is with regret that I must inform you, that you really cannot get authentic north Indian food in the hotels of Manali. Chinese - yes, Korean - holy cow - yes, Israeli - what the? - yes, Greek - who visits from Greece? - yes!!! No kidding, you can get pita bread, falafal, pasta and vegetable balls in all the hot garlic sauce in the world. More easily than Dhahi and Alu Paranta.

If you really must eat foods of north India, either you befriend a local cook or you cook it yourself. The only edible Himachali thing you can easily get your hands on, are the apples and pears which still abundantly line the roads and streets! Thank god for small mercies.

P.S. If anybody does know where I could get authentic North Indian food in Manali, please do write to me! I would like to try it the next time I go visiting.

Just for the record - the author is not anti-south Indian or anti-European or anti-Indian or other anti-blah blah person. The author loves eating Masala dosa, Vada sambar and Uttapam - as long as it is made in a Mumbai Udupi Restaurant or at home :) The author has no issues with European/Mediterranean cuisine either - he is know to have soft corner for Pita bread and Au-Gratin. The author also loves authentic Chinese food, and is know to have a soft corner for delicacies from the Hunan province.

* A mythical superhero from Manipal, who dared to eat the Masala Dosa of the MIT Cafeteria. A Cafeteria, which sadly doesn't exist anymore.

Lunching in Old Manali