I recently visited Bengaluru for a friend’s wedding—my first trip to the city often called India’s Silicon Valley and a rising food haven. Apart from the wedding, I had one goal: to dive into Bengaluru’s culinary scene, especially its iconic South Indian breakfasts—idli, vada, dosas, and more. Luckily, my local friends took it upon themselves to guide me beyond the usual tourist spots to hidden gems. There’s something special about exploring a city through the eyes of someone who lives and breathes it.
Our first stop was Taaza Thindi in Jayanagar, a beloved eatery that opens at the crack of dawn with a queue already snaking around the corner. It had been on my radar for years, thanks to countless Instagram posts by my friend and food consultant, Monika Manchanda. We ordered the idli-vada combo and a benne dosa to share. The prices were a delightful shock—R20 for the dosa and R10 for the idli-vada plate. In today’s world, such affordability felt almost nostalgic, but what truly amazed me was the uncompromising quality and flavour.
Next, we visited Dose of Davangere, a modest hole-in-the-wall known for its wood-fired dosas. The smoky aroma enveloped us as we stepped inside, and that distinctive smokiness carried through to the dosa itself. It wasn’t the greasy, over-the-top dosa you often see on social media. Instead, it was perfectly balanced—crispy on the edges, soft in the middle, with a vibrant potato filling that left me craving more. The coconut chutney, deceptively mild in appearance, packed a fiery punch.
“We take our dosas very seriously here!” Monika grinned, and I couldn’t agree more.
That got me thinking—what do we Delhi-ites take seriously when it comes to food? Is there a dish we hold sacred?
I reached out to my Instagram network, and almost in unison, the reply was: “Chole Bhature!”
When you think of Delhi’s street food, chole bhature is impossible to ignore. It’s not just food; it’s an experience—a comforting combo of puffy, golden bhaturas and tangy, spicy chole. It’s the kind of dish that transcends time, perfect for any hour of the day, whether you’re an early bird or a late-night wanderer. Its popularity is so profound that you’ll find it on street carts and in fine-dining restaurants alike. Interestingly, the fine-dining journey of chole bhature began at Kwality Restaurant in Connaught Place, established in the late 1940s by Peshori Lal Lamba, who migrated from Lahore. Despite serving colonial club fare—au gratin, sandwiches, mulligatawny soup—it was the simple charm of chole bhature that won hearts. Even today, decades later, it remains a crowd-puller.
The roots of this dish run deeper at Sita Ram Diwan Chand in Paharganj. Founded by Sita Ram and his son Diwan Chand, who migrated from West Punjab (now Pakistan) after Partition, this humble eatery has become synonymous with chole bhature, serving a recipe rich in history and flavor. Then there’s Nand Di Hatti in Purani Dilli, nestled in the narrow bylanes of Old Delhi. The family behind it, originally from Rawalpindi, carried their passion for food to Sadar Bazaar, continuing a legacy of flavourful fare.
What strikes me most about chole bhature is not just its taste but its cultural significance. Street food isn’t just quick bites; it’s a living, breathing part of a city’s identity. These iconic stalls are more than eateries—they’re custodians of recipes passed down through generations, holding stories of migration, resilience, and the timeless joy of a good meal. Every bite of chole bhature holds a piece of Delhi’s soul, just as every mouthful of thindi is infused with Bengaluru’s spirit.