Food and Eateries of Old Dhaka

--Ziauddin M. Choudhury

This is a homage to the eateries of Dhaka city in the sixties and the heavenly
food they purveyed to the city dwellers. Most of these eateries have been
long gone, some dishes also; but the genre of food these establishments
created still persist and are being sold in many eating places of Dhaka today.

Dhaka in the sixties was a far less urbanized city than the megapolis that it
has now become. Restaurant eating was in an incipient stage of being
fashionable. We had very few restaurants that a family would actually go into
and eat. In the period that I am describing Dhaka restaurants and eateries
that went by the ubiquitous name of “hotel” were mostly patronized by
itinerant travelers, working people who lived in establishments called
messes, and students who had tired of eating in their boarding houses.
Added to that were merchants and litigants who frequented old Dhaka. Even
after the torch bearing family restaurants such as Gulsitan, Chu-Chin Chow,
or Chung Wah started, the patronage was more confined to men only than a
family of husband, wife, and children.

This narrative is, therefore, mostly devoted to the traditional food that Dhaka
city would be known for, and the eating places that excelled in these foods.

My acquaintance with this marvelous food came from my many visits to the
eating places, first as a student of Dhaka University in early sixties, and then
in my early years of work there in late sixties. It was, however, in the first
period that I would come to know most of the local foods and the eateries. It
was partly a necessity since I wanted to escape the mundane and humdrum
food of the Hall that I stayed in. Also it was the company that I kept—a
fellow boarder in the Hall, Mohammed Ali –an Ismali by faith—who was a
walking encyclopedia of Dhaka eateries.
The friendship that I developed with Mohammed Ali was mainly based on
food. He was a young man of enormous build, nearly six feet and over two
hundred pounds in weight. It was a marvel that, I, who was a shrimp in
comparison with him, would be his friend. This happened by accident when
in our student dining hall I had once commented to the despicable way the
cook had prepared mutton that day. Immediately, Mohammed Ali, who was
seated next to me at the table, said he could take me to an excellent place
that prepared mutton if I were to shell out some bucks. I agreed right there
and from then on began my wonderful and memorable introduction to the
food of old Dhaka, under the capable guidance of my friend.

Mohammed Ali made good on his promise on the following Saturday. We

went to Delhi Muslim Hotel in Nawabpur Road, a place not very far from the
old Railway Station. It was in the evening, if I remember, but the not-too
large establishment was teeming with customers. I think we had to wait for
ten minutes or so, after which we were ushered into the restaurant and given
a table. The place was filled with an aroma of spices, and hot bread. I
depended on Mohammed Ali to guide me through the menu that was orally
delivered by the waiter. Mohammed Ali ordered mutton chops, and roghan
josh along with tandoor bread. I knew nothing of these items until they
arrived. I learnt that mutton chops were meat cut from the lamb’s loin (in
this case goat’s loin) with a small piece of tenderloin on one side of bone.
The chops are slightly pounded before cooking, and then slow cooked in a
paste of onion, garlic, ginger, and other spices notably garam masala and
coriander. Roghan josh is a preparation of leg meat that uses somewhat
similar spices but along with yogurt. Slow cooking in both dishes makes the
meat very tender. I dug into the delicious dishes as soon as they arrived
dipping our hot tandoor bread into the sauce, and using it as napkin. We had
two glasses of sweet lassi to wash down the food. I thanked Mohammed Ali
profusely for introducing me to the place where I would return several times,
sometimes just by myself. (Delhi Muslim Hotel was also famous for its
chicken tikka and shami kabab, both extremely delicious. In my next visit
there I had both with paratha.)

Next week Mohammed Ali took me to a self-descriptive place in Chowk

Bazar, called Khabar Dabar—Eating Etc. in plain English. Mohammed Ali had
told me earlier that the two things the place was known for were the famous
Bakar Khani bread and Shutli Kabab, both of which I had heard of before. In
fact I had eaten Bakar Khani in a friend’s house with cheese. Those from
Dhaka will instantly recall this famous bread, which is very brittle, but
famously tasty to eat. Bakarkhani dough of white flour and mawa thoroughly
mixed and kneaded for hours before stretching thin by hand over the entire
span of wooden board. Then after spreading ghee over it, flour is strewn on.
It is then folded and the process is repeated several times.

Khabar Dabar was not a very large establishment. In fact most people
bought carry out food there. The restaurant was hot even in a winter day
because of the constantly working ovens and grills. We ordered a plate of
Shutli Kabab, several bakar khanis, and a glass of lassi for each. Shutli
Kabab is actually a large mass of minced meat mixed with savory spices,
placed in a skewer, and grilled. The name shutli comes from the thread that
is used for binding the meat so that it does not fall off. The kabab used to be
sold by weight, and one had to take out the thread from the meat once it
was served on the plate. Mohammed Ali told me that another dish the place
was famous for was Khashi Moragh Bhuna (curry made of neutered rooster
meat). I said I would have to try that some other day.

Perhaps my most memorable introduction to old Dhaka food was when

Mohammed Ali took me to the place people would give their eye tooth for
eating in that period. It was Pahlowan’s Murgh Polao restaurant in Islampur,
near Lion’s cinema. It was owned by a person who went by the nick name of
Pahlwan (Wrestler) because of his large muscular body. The legend had it
that Pahlwan would himself prepare this famous dish with pure ghee with
spices that were his trade secret, and he would cook only one big pot every
day. There would be a long line formed every evening and the polao was
sold only by plate. You had to come away empty stomach if you were late.
Mohammed Ali took me to the establishment one afternoon well before the
curtain time. This was one polao to die for. The saffron colored rice (polao)
was fragrant with spices with several pieces of chicken bobbing over the rice.
A side dish of salad made of onions and green chili was also provided. I
realized what kind of artist Pahlwan was with the first morsel. After finishing
one plate I asked for more. But it was all gone. I would have to come back
to the place many, many more days I decided then and there. (I understand
that the famous place has now moved to Farm Gate and sons of Pahlwan are
keeping up the tradition.)

The other famous place that Mohammed Ali introduced me to was a small
eatery called Capital, located near the Nawabpur railway crossing. The
signature dish of the place was Mughlai Paratha, which is a clever
preparation of paratha with an omlette folded inside. The paratha was very
fluffy with the omlette that was made with onions and green chili and some
other spices. The dish was served with a small salad of onions and green
chili (again). Although the place served other preparations such as Aloo
Chop, chicken cutlets, etc. people frequented it mainly for its Mughlai
Paratha.

My introduction to other famous and not so famous eateries of Dhaka that

period did not all come through Mohammed Ali, however. Some came
through serendipity and others through many friends that I would come to
know later. One such discovery was Salimabad restaurant near the
Secretariat Building. It was a tin-roofed spacious place frequented by
sportsmen and football players, being near the Paltan Maidan. I had heard of
the place and the inexpensive meals that were available there. However, my
introduction to the delicious meals of the place came one day when the
dining place in my residential hall was closed. A friend and I dropped at
Salimabad and were astounded to find the long lines there. People were
actually hovering around tables where other persons were already eating.
The waiting people would occupy the table as soon as the diners before them
left the table. We had to do the same. But the food experience was worth
the rather undignified waiting. We had a regular Bengali meal; a delicious
chicken curry, daal, bhaji, and iced sherbet –a house specialty. Salimabad
also offered Shingara as a snack in the afternoon, which I ate later over a
cup of tea. It was simply out of this world!

My introduction to the more upscale restaurants and eateries of mid and late
sixties would come later, after my graduation. The more upscale places that
still abound in memory both for the ambience and quality of food were
Gulsitan, Rex, Casbah and La Sani, all of which were located in the general
area of present Bangabandhu Avenue. Both Gulsitan and Rex were famous
for both deshi and continental dishes. However, our preference was for
Gulsitan’s sandwiches, and Rex’s paratha and seekh kabab. The Dhaka
seekh kabab, which is known as Bihari Kabab in Pakistan, is a specialty of
Dhaka like the Dhaka biriyani. Seekh Kabab is made with thinly sliced beef
marinated several hours with several spices, and grilled slowly in a skewer.
Eaten with paratha and a salad of onions and green chili, this is one of the
most memorable dishes of Dhaka, and the kabab and paratha served in Rex
were probably the best.

Two other mouth watering dishes that were available in a restaurant the
name of which I cannot recall now were Nehari and Magaj Bhuna. The
restaurant was ensconced between Gulsitan restaurant and Gulistan cinema,
and it could seat only about twenty people or so. But it carried out a hectic
business. The Nehari, which is actually a very spicy soup of goat or beef
shank, was its star item. Magaj Bhuna (goat brain sauted in onion, ginger,
garlic and chili) was its second best seller. Both dishes came with hot tandoor
bread along with a bowl of fresh coriander, green chili, and sliced ginger. I
can still recollect the smell and taste of these marvelous dishes.

Remembering the dishes and eateries of Dhaka of the bygone days is a

nostalgic trip down memory lane. Most of the places have disappeared, but
fortunately the foods that these places celebrated are around us still. In my
last few trips to Dhaka I found several new restaurants were good old food of
old Dhaka is still available. Among those I was especially impressed by Star
restaurant not far from Sonarga Hotel (with branches in Banani and
elsewhere) that is carrying on the tradition.

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Ziauddin Choudhury writes from USA