Soni ka Dhaba

The Himalayas are beautiful, enchanting, romantic and always inviting. The Dussera holidays opened a window of opportunity to venture into the beautiful folds of the ever-inviting mountains. The hill stations are not too far from the plains and the drive to them is mesmerising. The zigzag roads, though challenging for a driver, but opens a new canvas at each turn. One actually drives back in time. From the busy schedules with tight time lines, you feel a different relaxation, a pace too slow to comprehend and the inhabitants never chasing any deadlines, less the taxi drivers who are always in the hurry and a sore point in the pristine surroundings.

As you climb up, the turns become sharper and steeper, the vegetation is lush green and except for the narrow road, small plants and climbers cover the earth with different shades of green. Even the barks of the conifers are not spared. The temperatures start dipping and the freshness knocks at the panes, telling you to switch off the ac and sniff in the mountain fresh air. The aroma, though heavily laden with that of pine, invites you to a new place away from the city. A mild fog diffuses the sunlight and the afternoons appear like fresh mornings or romantic evenings. The small streamlets and cute culverts on them add on to the beauty and music the environment.

When all the senses of the body get activated, how can the taste buds be left alone? Hungry by nature, the search for the quest can’t be complete, without savouring the food of that place. A local guide without a second thought directed us to the “Soni ka Dhaba”, a place, couple of miles away from Chail. A hungry driver doesn’t need too many directions to home on to the eating joint. The last few miles were covered in no time, leaving behind some places to visit on the way back.

Soni Ka Dhaba is a small eating joint, on the narrow road surrounded by a few shops. I don’t remember whether, I saw the billboard, but the parked cars and restlessly waiting tourist in front of the shop indicated it loud and clear. The waiting was too long and restless city dwellers started thinking for an alternative option, but no one left. The ambience wasn’t any great to write home. From outside, the only thing I could gather was; there was a flurry of activity and the waiters were wading their way through the awaiting crowd and serving steaming hot beverages and ghee topped “fulkas”. The kitchen was in an adjacent shop. It was busy with a flurry of activity. A beautiful lady at the clay Chula baked the fulkas supported by couple of more girls, who with an unmatched expertise rolled out the rotis. Their speed proved my opinion of slow pace of the mountain people wrong. The exotic aroma, swift precise actions next to the hot chula and the beautiful cook, who managed it all so smoothly, without a drop of sweat on the forehead, attracted me. Hats off to her and her staff. With a load full of costumers from different corners of the country standing at the gate and equal number sitting in and ravishing as if there is no tomorrow, everyone worked with a smile. May be that was the key ingredient of the dhaba.

Soon it was our turn, to forget the rest of the world and savour the lunch. The hunger had reached its threshold and the sight of steaming food was making it uncontrollable. The menu was limited thus saved a lot of time browsing the menu card. I love the standard menus, it saves a lot of time and coming on to a consensus on the menu to order for a group is difficult than passing any bill in the parliament. The service was swift and quick. Each and every dish served deserved praise for its taste. My wife, an exclusive cook and my dear son the taste bud and a budding cook were floored by the elusive taste of the food. Thumbs up by my daughter, who is very choosy in her tastes just nailed it. I don’t know who was counting the hot steaming, ghee laced “fulkas”, but no one could say “No” for the next one. Each time a fresh lot landed on the table, it got divided into halves or quarters to reach everyone’s plate. The so-called diet and fat conscience inner voice was lost somewhere and never it did try to intervene. The only communication visible was that of a nodding head.

The taste still lingers on the tongue. May be that was the USP of that place, that it needed no board or a hoarding or a plush façade to draw the customers from all over. Wishing their team prosperity and happiness. Lastly never miss out on the meethi roti as a pudding. Even after a overfilled stomach, it’s awesome.