By: Ganesh Saili
This explosion of bakeries came upon us without warning. Today, turn in any direction and chances are you will run smack into the aroma of loaves, confectioneries, fudge, stick-jaw, naan khatais, cakes, marzipan, and pastries being made.
‘We bake-it-happen!’ quips Nitin, pleased as punch. His gifted bakers have travelled here from their village of Ghoghas, in Khaspatti of Tehri-Garhwal. Meanwhile, a thousand visitors a day pour into Landour Bakehouse. They issue tokens to unclog the narrow lanes. Along the Mall is a riot of sweetaholics: Chick Chocolate co-exists cheek by jowl with By the Way Café where if it’s your lucky day, you might get a lick of newcomer Gauri Godiyal’s mixing bowl.
Just the other day, a stranger stumped me by asking: ‘Which is the way to Rock House?’ Eventually, I was able to untangle this portmanteau of Rokeby Manor Hotel and Landour Bakehouse.
‘We are at Bacon House!’ says a portly fellow, huffing and puffing over the phone, trying to catch his breath at seven thousand feet where until the 1970s, Azim’s bakery lay along the short-cut near Gospel Hall; while his brother, Karim, helped Maula Baksh on Camel’s Back Road, stoking those ancient wood-fired ovens, whose trailing smoke signals marked the place where the bakers lived. They began their day by kneading together flour, sugar, salt, yeast, and water; then the leavening which was followed by proving or ‘the second rising’ before the final baking of bread.
Another sort of second rising greeted Ron Way, an old student from Vincent Hill, who remembered: ‘The warmth of the fresh loaves I carried home,’ he said. ‘Couldn’t resist gobbling up one! Mother could never figure out why she was always billed for two loaves when she had only got one. It has taken me all these years to figure out that she knew exactly what was going on – though she never let on.’
Cleaving the 1960s was the hand-sliced bread with Panditji of Star Bakery and Gunanandji of Standard Bakery. Until along came Motilal Vaish of Barlow Bread to play complete spoilsport with his electric ovens. I guess the credit for our first modern bakery goes to Andy Verma. He had called it a day and come home from Egypt in the 1980s.
‘Enough of bread and buns! I had come back from Europe with brioche, plumb Danish pastries, and almond croissants with flakes raised to perfection. My Swiss gurus had taught me the ‘how-to’ of hand-rolled butter dough. In tribute to them, I named the place Le Suisse. It was a little cubicle at the bottom of the steps of Kwality Restaurant in Kulri.
Seeing Andy coming into the bank, the Bank Manager yelled loudly: ‘Bring out the La Shoesfile!’
‘I told him we had nothing to do with shoes!’ remembers Andy. ‘But who was listening?’
‘Bring out the Swiss file!’ he corrected himself.
Then in sheer frustration, he screamed at the peon: ‘Bring out the Su-suwala file!’
‘Helping me run the place was Hamid, a wonderful fellow whom I had brought from Calcutta, with instructions that the customer was God, who was always right. He was not to say ‘No’ to anyone – ever.’
One day a balding man walked up to the outlet asking for a ‘Jenny Peeza.’
‘What’s that?’ asked Hamid, puzzled. He blinked at me and looked me up and looked me down. As if on cue, we both ducked under the counter for a conference. Suddenly he grabbed a pizza, gingerly picked the onions, lifted the slivers of garlic, and swiftly filled cheese into the dents left behind. Into the oven, he pushed his effort. It came out a perfect ‘Jainy pizza’ – it had no onions or garlic.
Soon afterward, a traveller rubbed his nose against the glass-fronted showcase, shaking his head in disbelief. Then came his Eureka moment. Pointing to a doughnut he exclaimed: ‘Yes! That must be a chocolate-vada!’
‘That was the proverbial last straw,’ Andy tells me, adding: ‘I could feel it in my bones – a new age tsunami, with its to-hell-with-it attitude – was coming our way.’
Before he got swamped, he sold Le Suisse and moved on.
Ganesh Saili born and home-grown in the hills belongs to those select few whose words are illustrated by their own pictures. Author of two dozen books; some translated into twenty languages, his work has found recognition worldwide.
