Glued neatly to the glass door of Achayathis Restaurant in Maduravoyal is a white notice. It says, “Due to LPG shortage, there is price hike!” Even so, smoke still curls from the kitchen chimney. But what spiked to Rs 260 for a vegetarian meal (rice with 4-5 side dishes), demands for another Rs 201 as LPG shortage charge, apart from GST. This surge in cost is steep, but the frequency of orders remains the same — most requests come through food delivery platforms.
Issac, a captain at Achayathis, says there is immense pressure in the kitchen rather than at the counter. “We don’t know how long this crisis is going to go on. Now, we are charging extra money from customers to stay afloat. We had to reduce items like biryani and other dishes that require more gas. We are cutting down on heavy cooking,” adds Issac.
Across Chennai, small eateries are fighting the same battle. The commercial LPG cylinder, a predictable part of the kitchen, has become unreliable. Deliveries are delayed for more than 25 days, inform staff members from eateries across the city. Restaurants that depend on gas for everything from morning idlis to late-night biryani, are running out of options. Some close in different intervals. Some drop whole sections of their menu. Some send workers home. The gap between policy shock and lived survival has never been wider.
Cooking crisis
At Athikka in Tambaram, Mehroof has been running a snack shop since 2007. He has seen difficult periods before. The Covid lockdown was hard. But this, he says, feels different. “In the initial period, the situation was manageable, but now it has become difficult,” Mehroof says. His shop needs one cylinder every five days. Getting them regularly is no longer possible. While cylinders are available through private sources, the prices are unbearably high. But Mehroof has not raised his menu prices yet. He is trying to manage without passing the pressure onto customers. He has been using alternative cylinders from Adani group, which costs more than Rs 1,500.
Across both his branches, he serves about 150 customers a day, however, many restaurants have not been so lucky. “Nearby restaurants have shut down temporarily. Some have closed for one or two weeks because of this issue,” he says.
In Korattur, Om Sakthi Tiffin Centre opened its doors in 2004. Its owner, Santhanaraja, speaks of the shortage as a daily hunt. “Supplies have not been proper. Even if we try ten places, we may get only five or eight cylinders. It is very uncertain,” he says.
Undoubtedly, the menu has shrunken. “For items like idli, we are reducing the quantity. We cook less and manage with what is available,” he says. The kitchen now opens and closes in fragments. “We are open, but we have to close, especially in the afternoon, depending on availability of the cylinders.”
He has avoided the black market so far. “Some people are buying commercial cylinders from private agencies, but that is very costly,” he remarks. A standard cylinder now crosses Rs 2,000, but the supply is not assured.
The impact travels beyond the stove. “If there is no gas, we cannot work, and everyone’s income is affected,” Santhanaraja says.
At Ragam Tiffin Center in Perambur, Arjun, the owner, describes a similar pattern. His shop which operates from 5 am, runs on two or three cylinders on a normal day. Now, they manage with whatever they get, stretching to two cylinders only if necessary. Like many, when supplies are low, they also reduce the quantity of food.
Buying cylinders from private sources costs around Rs 4,500, informs Arjun. This has forced them to rely largely on firewood. “We have turned to using the firewood for cooking. It takes more effort but that is the most viable option now. We have more than 10 people working in the shop, so this shouldn’t affect their work and salaries,” shares Arjun.
At a thalluvandi kadai (push cart stall) in Mogappair West, the routine has been tampered. Balakrishnan, a staff member, says the shop usually changes its cylinder twice in three days but now they can affford to change only once. Because of the shortage, workers are given two days off weekly. The shop runs from 8 am to 11.30 am and resumes from 8 pm to 11.30 pm. The two days off also affects their daily wages.
Some kitchens fall silent without warning. A staff member at Charminar Biriyani in Pulianthope says the shop had to be shut down whenever supply stopped.
Another food chain sits outside this scramble. For kitchens that have opted for an electric stove from the beginning, the damage caused hasn’t been acute. At Tositos Infused Roasted Chicken, which has branches across the city, the kitchens run on electricity. Imran Sheriff, co founder of the outlet, says the shortage has not touched his operations. “We do not use LPG. We use only electric stove. Everything here runs on electricity,” says Imran. “If you buy the full setup, it would cost around `9 lakh. A smaller setup may cost around `7 lakh,” he explains.
While some have navigated this situation, many small eateries cannot make this shift overnight, or at all. Imran observes, “Many restaurants are scrambling to adjust their operations.” His outlet serves around 40 to 50 customers a day.
The shortage lands differently depending on where you stand. For some kitchens, it means tighter margins. For others, it means deciding whether to open at all. Across these spaces, survival takes small, uneven forms. One cook drops half the menu to save gas. Another closes early and laments the lost working hours. While some pay extra for a cylinder that may not even last a week, some wait impatiently to know if there will be a shift the next day. A few try other stoves or fuels, but every change comes with its own problems. Unfortunately, there is no one-size fits all solution in this global crisis.