World of mouth-watering golgappas

I never thought actor Jeevan, better known for his roles as a moustache-twirling villain in Hindi films, would trigger such a food nostalgia in me. A video, which showed Jeevan cavorting with the beauteous Cuckoo in a duet, popped up on a social media platform a few days back, and I was captivated by the song. When their eyes locked at Chowpatty, Jeevan sang, he forgot all about pani puris — ‘Pani puri bhool gaya main, hakka bakka ho gaya.’

The song immediately invoked tantalising images of pani puris, filled with chickpeas and potatoes, dunked in and out of a pot of tamarind-flavoured water. So, at a restaurant that very evening, I stuffed my mouth with sweet-and-tart golgappas and dahi batatas — golgappas filled with curd and chickpeas.

You can call it by any name, but a golgappa — pani puri in the west and phuchka or puchka in the east — is easily among the best roadside snacks you can have. Its many versions have mild differences. In parts of Uttar Pradesh, it is known as pani patasa or batase, and is served with sweetened water. The phuchka, on the other hand, is tart and has a filling of mashed potatoes, and not the small boiled pieces that you find in northern India. I had some phuchka at a wedding in Kolkata and enjoyed the mouth-puckering tartness.

Golgappas are now a veritable part of weddings. They are delivered home in sealed packets, found in restaurants, and even occupy the high table at luxury hotels. Some hold that having a golgappa in a restaurant is taking the fun out of eating it. I agree to an extent — you can’t beat the street golgappas, for, I think, the art of preparing a golgappa adds to the taste. You watch, trying not to drool, as the vendor makes a dent in a golgappa with a thumb, fills it with some chickpeas and boiled potatoes, and then, immerses it in mint-flavoured water after squeezing in a dollop of saunth — or sweet sauce. But I cannot deny that the convenience of having them delivered home has its own sweet taste.

The round and crisp golgappa casing was once made only with wheat flour. Then came semolina, and the fun was in alternating between atta and suji at the golgappa stall. Now, you even get golgappas made out of ragi, or finger millet. These deep-fried balls also come with innovative fillings, such as mashed avocado. The water embraces a spectrum of flavours — from green chillies and tamarind to plain hing and chaat masala to coriander and chilli chutney. At Bhawan, a highly rated Gurugram restaurant where the food is served with delicious tweaks, golgappa pani may have the flavour and juice of a gondhoraj lebu (most fragrant lemon), or be tempered with cumin and pomegranate, or raw mango and mint. Their fillings include sprouts and boondi, and aloo pindi channa. Bhawan takes its golgappas seriously. It even has a primer on how to eat one (yes, most people know this well — but I think some might benefit from it). Hold the golgappa with your thumb and index finger; tilt your head back, and in one swift motion, pop it in; take a swig of any remaining pani in your bowl; eat as slowly as you like. There’s no hurry. And then, it adds this pro-tip: be bold and ask for a sookha puri and some extra pani.

The venerable food writer Tarla Dalal has a recipe for chocolate golgappa. For this, chocolate-coated puris are stuffed with walnuts, and then, filled with chocolate milkshake. Some chefs serve quinoa golgappas. You can even get paan-flavoured golgappas. There was a time, I remember, when people filled their golgappas with hard liquor chilled in the fridge.

Clearly, in the world of golgappas, there is something for everybody. Poor Jeevan didn’t know what he was missing.

— The writer is a food critic