Wandering through the bustling streets of historic Chandni Chowk in North India, the welcoming aroma of freshly prepared chole bhature captivated my senses. Freshly prepared simmered curried chickpeas alongside soft, fluffy deep-fried bread. Witnessing the creation of the dish was fit for the silver screen, and uniquely builds an appetite. With the joy of immediate consumption post-preparation, the world comes to a pause, even in the most hectic of areas. Impeccably cooked without requiring anything more or less, such street food vendors are humble masters in their craft.
The essence of enjoying street food is that at its core, it is an individually thematic, encapsulating experience. Instead of going to a restaurant, or eating in, the choice to watch street vendors prepare food is itself tuning into artistic expression, a theater experience for one. One simply cannot just “buy” street food. They experience it.
Street food is quickly prepared food sold in a public space, often made in front of the customer by the vendor. It can take many different forms including food booths, stalls, carts, and more. It exists almost everywhere in the world, thriving with business in the nooks and crannies of cities, markets, and fairs.
The average person might consider street food ordinary with its cheap prices, and abundance in public areas. Walking by crowded stalls, one might ask, to what degree is it “special”? That is subjective. It might be ordinary, but only for those who walk past it. Stopping for a moment can be extraordinary for an unassuming customer, regardless of how familiar the menu items are to one’s palate.
A curious phenomenon occurs after a person places an order. The world slows down as three things exist: the seller, the customer, and the binding agent, food. The unquestionable tension, bond in that moment is what keeps customers coming back for more. Perhaps the food is not the star of the street food experience, but the process of obtaining it. It is that anticipation leading up to securing the street food that makes those first bites even more precious. The journey to a delectable destination.
A New Yorker might walk past the same Halal cart on their way to work every single day, and not think twice about it. A single stall is like a single grain of sand on an infinitely sandy beach. But what if the person stopped? Something special occurs in the few minutes between a customer ordering and receiving their order. The magical pull of the culinary performance is too entrancing to look away from. That seemingly meaningless grain of sand suddenly becomes the only grain of sand. When the food cart owner opens their stall, it is like great velvet curtains being drawn open for the world. Which lucky person will stop to see the show?
When a person chooses to stop and order a gyro at their favorite Greek stand, time stands still. They instantly transform from a passive stranger to an active viewer. The customer watches the vendor confidently slice marinated tender lamb off a slowly rotating rotisserie, fill the warm pita with the juicy meat, and lodge in a generous helping of freshly sliced tomatoes, cooling cucumbers, zingy onions, and refreshing herbs. The vendor finishes the stunning act with crumbled feta and homemade tzatziki sauce before securely wrapping the assembled Mediterranean treasure in parchment paper.
The show is private, intimate between the seller and customer. Words take the backburner as actions take center stage. Perhaps in those five minutes, that show earns less than a glance of acknowledgement by passersby consumed in their own worlds. A mere transaction, it might look like from the outside looking in. For the two parties involved, something deeper is at play.
Street food is like going to the movies. With anticipation, customers approach a stall and choose an item off the menu, like purchasing a ticket at the booth. While they may not have the luxury of reclining back in seats in a darkened room for the visual experience, the brain instinctively filters external stimuli in anticipation of a riveting drama. Then, the show begins.
Aloo chaat. A drizzle of tangy tamarind chutney to balance spiced, crispy cubed potatoes.
Churros. The vendor rolls golden-brown delights in a gleaming cinnamon sugar mixture.
Kebabs. Sizzling sounds from the grill when the vendor flips the juicy lamb skewers.
Fried chicken. The vendor submerges buttermilk-drenched chicken in the deep fryer.
Takoyaki. Speedily filling each ball-shaped mold in the pan with batter and diced octopus.
But unlike the movies, the customer does physically not leave the premises empty-handed. The viewer does not stay a viewer, but transforms into a participant, a diner on-the-go. The street food show has a bonus: the food. Or does the street food have a bonus: the show? Aloo chaat, churros, kebabs, fried chicken, takoyaki in hand, the show manifests itself into an edible masterpiece worthy of standing ovation.
Street food stalls are compact, intimate, culinary cinemas. It is those action-packed climactic moments of preparation and the patiently awaited gastronomic reward that keep customers returning in anticipation and satisfaction.
— Saamia Bukhari