It all began in 1900 when Jamsetji Nusserwanji Tata roped in American geologist Charles Perin to build India’s first steel plant. After three years, surveyors stumbled upon Sakuchi village where the Subarnarekha and Kharkai rivers met. This was kalimati or ‘black soil’ country. In 1907, Tisco (Tata Iron and Steel Company) was floated, and construction of a township began a year later. But to build this city, they needed more than rock and roll. They needed people, whom they welcomed with open arms. Marwaris, Madrasis, Punjabis, Parsis, Gujaratis, Adivasis, people from the eastern states and from distant Burma and China — they all poured into the cultural cauldron of the new township, imbuing it with distinct flavours from their native lands. Forged into a common identity, the city that came to be called Jamshedpur (or ‘Jampot’!) developed its own unique palate and quirky lingo — Fakira’s chanachur, Bhatia’s milk shakes, Bauwaji’s chai, Tambi’s dosas, Hari’s golgappas, Lakhi’s egg rolls, Ramesh’s kulfi and Kewat’s litti served generations of locals, as signature dishes and kitchen secrets passed from father to son. It was to a culinary pilgrimage of these old haunts that we returned.
The early birds
Among the first of these early visitors was Bhola Ram Gautam from Vrindavan. In 1909, Bhola Maharaj started a shuddh desi ghee sweet shop in a humble jhopdi. His septuagenarian son Jagdish Gautam renovated the shop 20 years ago, and a sepia image of Bhola Maharaj keeps watch as faithful customers return for sweets like balushahi, gujiya and chandrakala.
The city also drew many westerners, from English and German engineers to American pastors. In 1922, Abdul Subhan Midda opened the Calcutta Bakery in Dhatkidih, supplying rich plum cake and German bread to the gora sahibs in the elite Kaiser bungalows neighbourhood. But these days, Alam Midda at the Howrah Bakery next door strokes his white beard and laments the disappearance of old sweets like papa ladua: “The people who made them are dead or gone.”
Whereas Burma Mines, Jugsalai and Sakchi are Jamshedpur’s old markets, which came up before upscale Bistupur, the city’s earliest structures are the Sarkar and Lal buildings. The latter came up in 1927 and houses the legendary Gupta ki Mithaiyan in a cubbyhole. Founder Jagannath Gupta initially sold rabri and kalakand from a khatiya (cot) outside the company gates. It was a time when the streets were gas-lit and shops opened before dawn. Old-timer Ramchandar Shrivastava says Tata Steel’s directors visited the factory atop horses and elephants!
The angry young men
Jamshedpur was equally a magnet for dreamers, entrepreneurs and runaways. In the early 1930s, L.N. Krishna Iyer ran away from Lakshminarayanapuram near Palakkad when his mother hit him with a broom. After odd jobs and a stint as mess cook, he launched the Madrasi Hotel in 1935. Often, partygoers nursing a Saturday night hangover would land up on Sunday mornings to line their stomachs with greasy ghee-fried idlis, sharing elbow space with good Christians coming straight from mass, both united in their love for sambhar! Besides genuine filter coffee and south Indian meals, the hotel now serves over 65 varieties of dosas.
Another breakaway, Bartholomew D’Costa, came from Goa in historic 1919. Lauding the city’s contribution of steel rails to WWI, Lord Chelmsford visited Tisco and christened the city Jamshedpur to honour its founder. During WWII, being a high-value target, ‘yellow signals’ from Calcutta warned of impending Japanese air raids. The enterprising D’Costa bagged the contract to create smokescreens above the city by burning tar in huge pits and later, in 1940, set up the Boulevard Hotel in 1940 to lodge Allied troops. The restaurant-cum-bar built hastily on ‘Plot no. nil’ witnessed drunken brawls between American and British troops. “Surviving chairs, and bricks marked DC from my grandfather’s kiln, have found place in the hotel,” chuckles Ronald D’Costa. Their restaurant, Chopsticks, remains a rare dining space that serves Goan and Anglo-Indian cuisine, with classics like roast pork.
It turns out that Ramesh Prasad was smarting from a domestic quarrel when he took the first train out of Jasidih to Jamshedpur in 1966. His kulfi was a big hit outside Natraj Cinema until, heckled by goons and guards, he became a crusader for workers’ rights. On hearing of a possible opening for a court canteen, he floored the district judge with a dozen singadas and kulfis each, earning the space to open Ramesh Kulfi in 1972. His meat-chawal shack nearby retraces his roots to Devghar, famous for its ‘mutton, chawal, dahi, meetha’. Sourcing khassi (country goats) from haats (local markets), he judiciously uses each part — gurda (kidney), kaleji (liver), fefda (lungs), godi (trotters), mundi (head), chusta (nalli) and magaj (brain). “Baal chhod ke sab use hota hai,” he jokes (“everything except the hair is used”). Besides Hyderabadi mutton and khichdi, his signature atthe is a thick mutton gravy cooked in ghee, onion and homemade masalas. It withstands long train journeys because no water is added and, “People headed for Vaishno Devi eat my mutton all the way to Katra,” he says.
Ramesh Pradhan, on the other hand, left Delang, a hamlet near Puri, after a spat at home. But he was remorseful, so he decided to spread sweetness in people’s lives through his magical mocktail. Maa Tarini, popular as the Regal Masala Cold Drink, opened in 1979, a fizzy glass of blended Gold Spot and Thums Up with a secret spice mix. When Regal Cinema was at its peak, they sold a hundred crates a day. Ramesh passed away last year and it’s his younger brother Raghu who continues his good work these days.
Unity in diversity
Some of the stories are epic. Khursheed Bharucha, Tata Steel’s first Indian chief cashier, built the Bharucha Mansion in 1935 using surplus steel girders from the Howrah Bridge. We bumped into his great grandson Varun Gazder, who recently renovated its 2nd floor dining room into the old-worldly Café Regal, with lights, fans and seats salvaged from Regal Cinema! On Sundays, he serves authentic Parsi cuisine gleaned from great grandmum Gulbai’s recipes.
Nothing beats Jamshedpur Boarding for a slice of Bengal. Established in 1942 by Puleen Chakravarty, its grimy interiors and rickety tables, with a railway timetable on one wall, transport you to Kolkata’s backlanes. Patrons feast on kosha mangsho (mutton potato gravy), chara pona (baby rohu) and various fish curries.
Visiting Bauwaji’s banyan tree sit-out for a glass of cardamom chai strained through a red gamchha (towel) is another Jamshedpuri ritual. Ram Vilas Gupta from Chhapra started the tea stall in 1942 and named it after his youngest son Laxmi Narayan Gupta, endearingly called Bauwaji. Proximity to XLRI and the Loyola School ensures a steady footfall. Today, Bauwaji proudly displays pictures of local legend Imtiaz Ali, who penned Jab We Met’s dialogues at this adda and also helped shoot Vikramaditya Motwane’s coming-of-age film Udaan in the city.
The 93-year-old R.S.Trivedi from Gopalpur opened Nabjiban Kulfi in 1948, naming it after a nationalist newspaper. Remarkably, he’s still at his shop seat. His technique of freezing kulfi in a handi with salt and ice shaken regularly till its temperature plummets to -35°C continues unaltered. “It won’t freeze even in five days unless you swirl it,” reveals his son Bharat Bhushan Trivedi. Narayan next door makes great kulfi too. Jamshedpur has a sweet tooth, confirmed by the glut of mithai shops and the city’s love for gud ka rasgulla, a winter treat made of palm jaggery.
Flavours of Punjab
Barely recovering from the wartime frenzy of the Furious Forties, the city braced for another cataclysmic event — the Partition. The wave of displaced Punjabis found shelter at Refugee Market, adding to the city’s Sikh population employed in thekedari (contracts), transportation and food.
Dayal Singh arrived from Sheikhpura in Pakistan and sold jalebis on a thela between the Machhi (fish) and Murga (chicken) Line. Bhatia ke Jalebi soon became a landmark. His grandson Satbir Singh, who mans the 65-year-old shop, is a motor enthusiast and inventor. He designed a unique clock in 2007, which runs anticlockwise but gives the right time! Quirky signs embellish his walls, including this one: ‘Credit will be given to those over 80-90 years, only after seeking their parent’s permission’. Satbir says, “If you get off at Tatanagar railway station and asked for the jalebiwala, you’ll be brought here.” Bhatia’s was the sole jalebi shop in the area till a few decades ago; now, it’s part of the Jalebi Line!
Surjit Singh Bhatia too arrived after the Partition, and he was armed with a 1st division in Urdu and Farsi from Lahore University. He tried selling lottery tickets, clothes and biscuits before launching Bhatia Milk Shake 45 years ago. His son Rajinder, helping out as a kid, recalls how his brothers would groan at the prospect of grinding badam. His hefty frame seems to be an outcome of all the exercise. Sadly, Surjit Singh passed away last year. Rajinder rues, “Hindustan mein daru ki kadar hai, doodh ki nahi. Jis din doodh ki kadar badhegi, koi daru ko nahi poochhega.” (“India has respect for alcohol, not milk. The day we respect milk, people will shun alcohol.”) It’s with local buffalo milk, langda mangoes from Bihar, pineapples from Siliguri, litchis from Muzaffarpur, and rose petals from Howrah that the Bhatias make natural juices and flavourful milk shakes, sans artificial essences.
There are so many rivetting stories. Novelty Restaurant, run by Rajinder Kumar Soni for over 42 years, has braved many challenges — from selling chicken curry for 50 paise to handling unruly customers at its old bar. Some would jam a knife on the bill and refuse to pay! Back then, Jamshedpur was lawless, like a frontier boomtown. Today, NRIs who return for their original butter chicken compliment its unchanged taste.
Manohar Singh vended Amritsari style chhole-kulche for two annas on his pushcart, way before his son Pappu Sardar was born. Later, young Pappu ran away and sold milk on the Mughalsarai railway platform. Part Bollywood fan, part chef and part social activist, maverick Pappu took over Manohar Chat in 1996. During Ramzan, he opens the restaurant only after feeding the devout. His quirky ‘mix chat’ is a tangy, sweet and salty cross between a fruit salad and a chat. His obsession with Madhuri Dixit, his restaurant’s poster girl, is well known. Celebrating her birthday since 1996 and launching a calendar that begins on 15 May, he hopes her birthday will be announced as a holiday, also as a day to honour Bollywood. He makes donations on Ms Dixit’s behalf for calamity relief and his devotion is mentioned in the book Public Hinduism.
Some shops are so famous they don’t even need a name, like the chaanp stall opposite Basant Talkies. Arriving from Amritsar in the 1960s, Balbir Singh ran his roadside grill for half a century without a name. Recently, after his demise, his son Harjinder named it BFC (Balbir Fried Chicken). The recipe is vintage Amritsari, with chicken marinated in curd spiced with chillis, ginger and garlic for 12 hours, and served with a squeeze of lime, onions and green chutney. For chicken pakodas, he first fries the chicken chunks, chops them and fries them again to save cooking time. “Punjabi technology,” laughs the heir who sells nearly a quintal of chicken every day.
Snack attack
M.Masilamani (aka Swamy) from Vellore worked in the town office canteen in the 1960s before opening a stall outside KMPM College, selling dosas for Rs 1.50 and two idlis for 25 paise. He moved to Beldih Club near Loyola School and brisk business ensued. When years of standing took its toll on the portly Swamy, his son Ganesh aka tambi (literally younger brother, but a commonly used appellation) assumed charge in 1994. Tambi introduced innovations like onion, butter and cheese dosas. Shunted from its older Beldih School and Kalibari addresses, Tambi’s Dosa is now in Northern Town with a souped-up thela and a triple burner. The taste, though, remains the same.
Jamshedpur’s pani-puris are a class apart, but nothing can compete with Hari ka Golgappa. Forty years ago, when Hari Rajak arrived from Simultala near Jamui, there were barely three vendors in the neighbourhood. On a good day he made Rs 10-20, selling 20 golgappas for a rupee. Mashing the potatoes and ghugni with masalas, dunking the puris in tamarind water and placing them in our sal leaf cups, he humbly attributes his popularity to technique: “It’s all in the hand.” His gentle demeanor is a bonus.
Fakir Chand Gupta travelled from Ghazipur, UP, to work at Tata Steel. Bored with his job, he began a mixture business 60 years ago from a mobile stand near Regal Maidan, selling five items — sada chanachur, jhaal chanachur, meetha, sonpapdi and sev — for an anna or two. Following his death, sons Raj Kumar Gupta and Ashok Kumar Gupta expanded Fakira Chanachur’s repertoire. As customers line up, an instant mix of chanachur with onion, ginger, chili and lime is tossed and served in a thonga (paper pack) as a free munch! Their popularity prompted them to start couriering their packets. With grandsons Rajiv, Ramesh, Anup and Anil handling multiple branches, Fakira’s legend lives on…
It was after trying his hand at various other jobs that Lakhi Kant Mahapatro started Lakhi Egg Rolls on 15 August 1982. Being Sunday, it seemed like a good day for a new beginning and Lakhi’s been on a roll ever since! From selling rolls for Rs 2 in a tin shed, he now has a wall-size menu of variations and a 30-seater restaurant on the first floor.
Surendar Kewat may be deemed a late entrant to Jamshedpur’s foodie scene — he opened his litti stall in 2004 — but he became a household name within a decade. Mentored by Ranchi’s legendary ‘litti-rateur’ Bhola Kewat, he roasts littis on an iron griddle, dunks them in desi ghee and serves them with tangy tomato chutney and aloo chokha (potato mash). With Surendar’s help, many protégés from the Kewat clan have struck out independently.
It was Ramchandra Gupta who introduced goli soda 60 years ago and his son Rajendra Gupta has helmed it for three decades. “Nobody knows my name; only my face and our goli soda!” It’s a cola or orange drink with lime, salt and carbon dioxide. The old soda machine works, but the glass bottle is only for display. Back in the day, when gas was filled, the goli (marble) would rise till the bottle popped with a characteristic whistle. But Rajendra has switched to a plastic bottle, which lets him serves six glasses instead of two. In sultry Jamshedpur, the math makes sense. For a place as small as Jamshedpur, its culinary diversity boggles the mind. From Marwari basa in Jugsalai to murga achar at Howrah Bridge to bhancha-ghar (curry house) style ‘Nepali ka chicken’ behind Voltas House to the food stalls near Muslim Library and Jubilee Park, there’s so much to devour. The smell of food mingles with the slag and fumes of the steel furnace beneath orange skies. Bursting at our seams with bellies full of stories and savouries, we realised that we needed stomachs of steels to relish Jamshedpur fully.
The information
HARI KA GOLGAPPA: Road No. 26, Durga Puja Maidan, Telco Colony; 5.30pm–10pm; +91- 8521631635. Golgappas (Rs 10 for 5).
TAMBI’S DOSA: Near the petrol pump, CH Area; 7am–11am; +91-9031321485. Plain dosa (Rs 30), masala dosa (Rs 40), butter dosa (Rs 50), cheese dosa (Rs 70), and idlis (Rs 15 for 2).
BAUWAJI KA CHAI: Behind petrol pump, Northern Town T.O.P., C.H. Area; 7am–3.30pm. Elaichi chai and singada.
BHOLA MAHARAJ: 111, Bhola Maharaj Lane, Sakchi; 8 am–10 pm; 0657-2230011. Motichoor laddu, balushahi, chandrakala, santra kadam and motipak.
GUPTA KI MITHAIYAN: 143, Lal Building, Sakchi Bazaar; 9am–9pm; 0657-2430400. Rabri (Rs 30 for 100gm), rasmalai (Rs 25 for 100gm) and gud rasgulla (Rs 10) .
LAKHI EGG ROLL: No. 38, Sakchi Market, Near Basant Talkies, Sakchi; 11:30am–3pm, 5:30–10pm; +91-9431113568. Rolls (Rs 25-60), ‘half plate’ chowmein (Rs 40-70) and chilli chicken (Rs 100).
GOLI SODA: Next to Lakhi Rolls, opposite Basant Talkies, Sakchi; 10.30am–10pm. Cola, orange or nimbu soda (Rs 20).
MANOHAR CHAT: Near Basant Talkies; +91- 9006769797. Mix chat (Rs 40) and sambhar vada (Rs 30).
BHATIA KE JALEBI: Purani Jalebi Dukan, No.11 Refugee Market, Sakchi; 8am–9.30 pm; +91- 9204793324. Jalebi (Rs 100 per kilo).
RAMESH KULFI: Court Canteen; 11am–11pm; +91-8541977545. Mutton atthe (Rs 220), Hyderabadi mutton (Rs 220) on Sunday, kaleji (Rs 180), Dehradun rice (Rs 80), prawn meal (Rs 200), fish meal (Rs 100) and, of course, kulfi (Rs 50).
JAMSHEDPUR BOARDING: N Road, Bistupur; 12.30pm–3pm and 8pm–9.30 pm; 0657-2321484. Bengali meals (Rs 80-200).
THE MADRASI HOTEL: 10, J Road, Bistupur; 8am–3pm, 5.30–8pm; 0657-2249964; www.themadrasihotel.com. Dosas (Rs 45-100), ghee fried idli (Rs 45), filter coffee (Rs 23) and south Indian meals (Rs 100).
BHATIA MILK SHAKE: Shop No. 8&9, C-1, Fruit Market, Bistupur; 0657-2423173/2320173. Cold coffee, fruit juices and milk shakes (Rs 50).
NOVELTY RESTAURANT: Regal Mansion, near Gopal Maidan, Kharkai Link Road, Bistupur; 10 am–10:30 pm; 0657- 2249827; www.noveltyrestaurant.in. Chicken tikka tawa masala and ‘Original Butter Chicken’.
THE BOULEVARD HOTEL: Tata Hata Main Road, Bistupur; 0657-2425321, +91-8501100788; www.theboulevardhotel.net. Roast pork (Rs 190), roast chicken (Rs 165) and baked yoghurt at Brubeck café.
MAA TARINI/REGAL COLD DRINK: Next to petrol pump, Regal Maidan, Bistupur; +91-9431522959. Spiced fizzy mocktails (Rs 20).
CALCUTTA BAKERY: Dhatkidih Market Area; 8am–1pm, 3pm–9pm; 0657-2228990. Cakes, pastries, biscuits, patties and other goodies.
SURENDER KEWAT KA LITTI: 9 No. Bus Stand, Kalimati Road, near gurdwara, Sakchi Golchakkar; 5pm–10pm; +91-9931114842. Litti chokha chutney (Rs 15 per plate plain, Rs 20 per plate with ghee).
NABJIBAN KULFI: 106, Sakchi Bazaar; 11am–9pm; 0657-2424793. Kulfi falooda (Rs 40)
BFC (BALBIR FRIED CHICKEN): Opposite Basant Talkies, Sakchi; 5am–10.30pm; +91-9955352461. Chicken chaanp (250gm for Rs 200) and chicken pakoda (Rs 80).
CAFÉ REGAL: 2nd floor, 35 Bharucha Mansion, Bistupur; 3pm–10pm from Monday-Saturday, 1pm–10pm on Sunday; +91-8102514777. Cold coffee (Rs 130), chicken pasta in white sauce (Rs 240) and ‘Sunday Parsee Special’ (Rs 370).
FAKIRA CHANACHUR: Main Road, Traffic Signal Light, Kamani Centre, Bistupur; 10am–10pm; 0657-2320542, +91-9334351075. chanachur (Rs 160), soya stick, banana chips, moong dal, badam pakoda, badam patti, petha and gathiya.