Food has the power to spin stories and create identities; one such story I’ve uncovered like many others is that of Mr Surjit Singh – an unassuming elderly Sikh man who serves up Amritsar up on a plate.
Tucked a little away from Lawrence road in a two-story commercial complex, Surjit’s board screams of the Lonely Planet recommendation it has managed to earn. Once you enter, please don’t be fooled by the late 2000’s sparse interiors. Instead, focus on the warm smile that lights up Surjit’s face with which he welcomes you. Probably in his mid-70’s, this gentleman’s establishment is a name to reckon with in Amritsar. Mild-mannered, courteous, and full of conversation, he’s slightly celebrity obsessed and even had a wall with pictures and memorabilia till a while back but now he makes do with a scrapbook.
Once the niceties are done, Surjit gives you the recommendations and then personally goes into the kitchen to cook for you {how do I know this? Because it’s an open kitchen and you can actually see him adding the spices to your butter chicken}.
This, according to me, is the je ne sais quoi of this place. The personal touch, the warmth that now is lacking in most other legendary establishments in the city {Bharawan da Dhaba that has decided to open up in the mall of Amritsar, you’re not kidding anyone!}
The USP is hands down, the Amritsari fish – the dish that has given the restaurant its credibility and the tawa tikkas. The fish is the choicest, freshest sole that almost has a sweet flavour profile because of the river water quality, is dipped in a secret batter with just the right spice content and fried, topped with chaat masala and served with fresh chutney.
This for me is better than any batter fried fish you can get in London. The tikkas are an icon altogether. First cooked in the tandoor, those are then finished with secret spices on the tawa. These succulent chunks of mutton with a hint of smokiness and fiery overtones really bring out the carnivore in me.
The Amritsari maa di daal also reminds you of how makhani dal should be prepared with the lentil being the hero of the dish and not a buttery brown gravy, we generally get served up.
The tandoori bread works just right for me and as if my arteries weren’t already choking with all this, I usually end up ordering for the butter naan – flaky, crispy and oozing with real makkhan, this one is a show stopper in the carb world.
Tucked a little away from Lawrence road in a two-story commercial complex, Surjit’s board screams of the Lonely Planet recommendation it has managed to earn. Once you enter, please don’t be fooled by the late 2000’s sparse interiors. Instead, focus on the warm smile that lights up Surjit’s face with which he welcomes you. Probably in his mid-70’s, this gentleman’s establishment is a name to reckon with in Amritsar. Mild-mannered, courteous, and full of conversation, he’s slightly celebrity obsessed and even had a wall with pictures and memorabilia till a while back but now he makes do with a scrapbook.
Once the niceties are done, Surjit gives you the recommendations and then personally goes into the kitchen to cook for you {how do I know this? Because it’s an open kitchen and you can actually see him adding the spices to your butter chicken}.
This, according to me, is the je ne sais quoi of this place. The personal touch, the warmth that now is lacking in most other legendary establishments in the city {Bharawan da Dhaba that has decided to open up in the mall of Amritsar, you’re not kidding anyone!}
The USP is hands down, the Amritsari fish – the dish that has given the restaurant its credibility and the tawa tikkas. The fish is the choicest, freshest sole that almost has a sweet flavour profile because of the river water quality, is dipped in a secret batter with just the right spice content and fried, topped with chaat masala and served with fresh chutney.
This for me is better than any batter fried fish you can get in London. The tikkas are an icon altogether. First cooked in the tandoor, those are then finished with secret spices on the tawa. These succulent chunks of mutton with a hint of smokiness and fiery overtones really bring out the carnivore in me.
The Amritsari maa di daal also reminds you of how makhani dal should be prepared with the lentil being the hero of the dish and not a buttery brown gravy, we generally get served up.
The tandoori bread works just right for me and as if my arteries weren’t already choking with all this, I usually end up ordering for the butter naan – flaky, crispy and oozing with real makkhan, this one is a show stopper in the carb world.
