Where to eat in Jamshedpur. A food epic with 14 delicious stops in India's 'steel city.'

Parsi ravo bedecked with kishmish, pista and cashews at Cafe Regal

I know that this might seem as long as a book but indulge me and do read it because how often would you read about the food of Jamshedpur in your life? Or about Jamshedpur for that matter? The post covers the Bistupur area where I spent 48 hours in November 2019.

A 70mm return to Jamshedpur

The first time that I had gone to Jamshedpur was either in 1994 or 1995. To appear in the XLRI admission interview. There was a train load of us from Kolkata who had gone for this. New friendships were made during the journey. Hopes and fears about the life that lay ahead were discussed. Some of us went to Jubilee Park and had dinner after we reached. At the food trucks parked outside Jubilee Park. The usual college allowance fare of roll and chowmein of Kolkata if I remember right. The term ‘food truck’ was not known to us back then.

My next visit to the city was this November. 25 years after the first time. This means that I had obviously not made it to XLRI back then. I did my MBA in Kolkata's IISWBM instead, joined IMRB and then moved to Mumbai as a market researcher.

I was back at Jamshedpur, this time as a food writer. Invited to cover the food experience at Saamvad 2019, the tribal conclave organised by Tata Steel. At the city which the company had founded a century back.

I was going to be there for two nights and the plan was to maximise the time and try to explore the food at Jamshedpur. I did not know what to expect but was armed with a set of recommendations that folks had given me on social media when I set off from Mumbai (via Ranchi and then a drive to Jamshedpur). I was based at a place called Bistupur in Jamshedpur and at quite a nice hotel called the Sonnet. It helped that all the food ‘must haves’ over there were located within a ten-minute walk of each other!

I returned at the end of the trip feeling enamoured by the food scene of the city that was once referred to as ‘Jampot’ in 80s slang. The term ‘melting pot of cultures’ truly came alive in Jamshedpur I realised, and its food was the best expression of this.

What to eat in Jamshedpur

1. Chilli pork at Frank's. Estd 1968.

My first meal was at Frank’s. A Chinese restaurant that my friend Debjani Banerji, who often travels to Jamshedpur on work, recommended I go to. “Stick to the basics," she said, "chilli pork, chilli chicken, fried rice and Hakka noodles, and you will do good.” 

I walked down from my hotel at 8 pm (everything shuts at 10 pm at Jamshedpur including Frank’s). The roads were largely empty and very well maintained, the weather (November 2019) pleasant. I passed by a Chinese and a south Indian restaurant, then carts selling Gujarati (!) snacks. The latter seemed rather funny given that I had flown in from Mumbai where Gujarati snacks rule. I even passed by a ‘Maharashtra Bhavan’ whose canteen promised a Maharashtrian breakfast. In the eastern extreme of the country. A Barista cafe too where I had lovely cappuccinos over the next couple of mornings.

I followed Google maps and came across a food street packed with momo, dosa and roll carts and then came across a building which had ‘Frank’s’ written on it. It looked like the sort of house that one sees in the lanes of south Kolkata. I walked in to see that the place was as 80s Calcutta as it gets. Dimly lit, impassive and near surly elderly waiters whose attention you would be lucky to get, packed with Bengali families ordering chilli chicken and chowmein. ‘No pork,’ specified the family beside me. 

Would this be the right place to order pork, I wondered. Would it be fresh?

I decided to ride my luck and ordered a pork chilli fry and a chicken fried rice. “Is it dry or with gravy,” I asked the waiter. “Whatever,” he said. More like a 16-year-old, than the 60 year old he probably was. “Both are there.”

I chose dry. The regular option. There was one 'without fat' too according to the menu. I ignored that. I waited nervously. Not knowing what to expect. 

I need not have worried, as I realised soon.

The plate of chilli pork that our elderly waiter brought me was one of the best pork dishes that I have had in an old school Chinese restaurant, barring Ling’s Pavilion in Mumbai, in a long time in terms of the superior quality of the meat and the excellence in cooking. The meat was tender. The taste was dominated by a mild caramelised flavour with an undercurrent of chilli heat. No chillies were visible in the dark at least. It seemed as if all the fat from the ‘fat free’ portions had been put in to this too. Only a fear of what my long due tests results would say stopped me from finishing the plate. 

I did finish the chicken fried rice that I had ordered though. It was made with short grained rice like it used to be in Kolkata thankfully, not the basmati that one sees in Mumbai. Flavoured with soya sauce and the memories of one’s childhood.

Chicken fried rice and chilli pork with a Thums Up to complete the
Calcutta of the 80s mood

I later got to know more about the story of both Frank’s and the chilli pork from Elspeth (Elli) Chen whose father runs Frank’s. 

Turns out that there was a thriving Chinese population in the 1960s and 70s in Jamshedpur. Frank’s was set up by the sons of ‘grandpa Liao’ who had come to Jamshedpur earlier in search of work. The original place was smaller and located near Brindavan Sweets at Bistupur Market at a place called Khatiya Galli and was opened in 1968. Like most of the other Chinese folks of Jamshedpur who migrated to Canada later, so did the Liaos. Elli Chen’s father has been running the place for the last 16 years and the two families are related by marriage. They moved to the current location in 1984.

The recipes are a mix of  Cantonese and Hakka home recipes and some mastered over time.  The Chens are Cantonese and Liaos, Hakka. All the food is still cooked on charcoal fires and the sauces are sourced from Kolkata’s Chinatown. 

The supplier for the pork has remained unchanged over the years. Originally a gentleman whom Elli called ‘Laloo uncle,’ and now his sons. The chilli pork is double cooked. It is par cooked and kept and then stir fried with dark soy sauce when orders are placed. They have a ‘Schezwan’ version which has onions in it too. They make hand pulled noodles still. Elli is a big fan of the mixed fried rice which has chicken, shrimp, egg and roast pork in it. She lives in Pune now and I know that her school friend Gayatri wishes that she comes back to Jamshedpur someday to helm the business.

Who is Gayatri? Where is this Vrindavan Market?  Keep reading to find out.

2. Masala dosa at Vijay Dosa, Gopal Maidan

Let me first tell you about the lovely breakfast that I had at dosa cart just outside the Gopal Maidan the morning after I landed. A gentleman named Vijay runs it and he made me one of the nicest masala dosas that I have ever had, and I have had many all over including in south India. The dosa was a tad thick (not Bangalore CTR/ MTR benne thick), had a nice bite to it, was crunchy and offered the perfect foil for the potato masala inside. The look of concentration on Vijay’s face while he made the dosa spoke of passion and that showed in the food that he dished out. He told me that he has grown up here in Jamshedpur though his family traces its origins to Vellore in the south.

Now why did I go to have a dosa for breakfast in Jamshedpur, which is in the east of India and have the dosa which belongs to the south?

As I told you earlier, I was peppered with suggestions on social media where to eat Jamshedpur. These were primarily from folks who had grown up there and had then emigrated to different parts of the world in search of employment. One of them who phoned me the moment I reached, to give me her tips on where to eat, was my friend and corporate trainer turned very prolific food writer, Anubhuti Krishna. Not a Jamshedpur girl herself, she is married to a Jamshedpur boy and has fallen in love with his home town since. 

It was all thanks to Anubhuti, who told me that having a dosa for breakfast seems to be the done thing here, that I went looking for one in the first place.  She also connected me to two lovely people from Jamshedpur who brought the city alive for me, Gayatri Iyer and Varun Gazder.

4. Chilli powder idli, filter kaapi, rava dosa at the Madrasi Hotel, estd 1935

Chilli powder idli at the Madrasi Hotel

I got to meet Gayatri Iyer that evening and realised that her family could be held partly responsible for making dosas so popular in Jamshedpur. Gayatri is the third-generation owner of the Madrasi Hotel at Bistupur. It was set up by her grandfather, the late LN Krishna Iyer, in 1935. 

He had come to Jamshedpur from Lakshmi Narayana Puram at Pallakad. Jamshedpur then was a newly set up township by TATA Steel and had people coming from all over the country to work here. Grandpa Iyer opened a restaurant selling traditional Tamilian (it’s no longer politically correct to say ‘Madrasi’ though unlike when we were kids) ‘tiffin fare’ of idli, dosa and vada and the place soon became an institution. Gayatri was born here, had moved to Bengaluru to work. She got married there and worked as a make up artist. She then decided to come back with her husband and the two run the restaurant together. She had initiated a bit of a makeover here and the place is now a lot larger than before. Spartan and yet warm and welcoming. The manager incidentally is an elderly Bengali gentleman who knew her grandfather.

The vivacious and big hearted owner of the Madrasi Hotel, Gayatri, told me all of this while I munched on some delightful chilli powder (podi) idli and sipped on a hearty filter kaapi. The recipes of the podi is her mother’s, Gayatri told me.

With Gayatri Iyer & Varun Gazder at the Madrasi Hotel

4. Sunday Parsi bhonu, akoori and old style chicken cutlet at Cafe Regal

Joining us at the Madrasi Hotel, after having driven down on his Royal Enfield, was Varun Gazder. A fifth generation Parsi from Jamshedpur and a loyal fan of the Madrasi Hotel from his childhood. He and Gayatri are friends (everyone seems to know each other at Jampot), and while munching on a chilli powder rava dosa, he joined Gayatri in explaining to me that how Jamshedpur is often called a ‘mini Bombay’ because of its cosmopolitan nature, and about how this shows in its food.

Interestingly, despite being a township created by a Parsi run company, there were no Parsi eating out options in the city till recently. This changed when Varun, who had earlier moved out to study hotel management and had then worked in the Taj group of hotels in Mumbai, returned to Jamshedpur and set up the Regal Café in the Bharucha Building at Bistupur. 

Here is a fun fact. Apart from being two rare Jamshedpurians, who left the city for work and then came back to the city, there is one more connection between Gayatri and Varun. The Madrasi Hotel was founded in 1935 while the Bharucha Building was inaugurated in 1935 too!

With Varun Gazder & Sandy Singh at Cafe Regal

Varun has converted a part of the building into a café. You have to climb two flights to reach it but the staircase oozes class, as does the way he has artistically designed the place. He has used chairs from the first-class section of the erstwhile Regal Theatre after which the café is named, for example, in the cafe. There are old wood and cane antique chairs typical of Parsi homes from his own house kept here too. The place is replete with memorabilia. Posters and reels from Regal. Some family heirlooms too, including a weight measure used by the British to calculate tax to be paid, an old coffee grinding machine and lots more. The café has a modern vibe to it too and free wifi as well for those who want to work out of it and, if you are lucky, Varun will take you to the balcony at the back and click a picture of you with the Tata Steel complex, from where it all started, as the background.

While Café Regal offers sandwiches and eggs and cutlets and coffee and tea and other café fare through the week, it is on Sundays that you can get to taste the Parsi bhonu (meal). 

The Parsis, like the Windsors of Buckingham are rather matriarchal, and Varun’s story is an example of this. Varun gets his recipes from his mother, Behroze Gazder. Who, in turn, got them from Varun's great grandmother, Goolbhai Bharucha, grand aunt, Khutty Bharucha and grandmother, Mehar Gazder. Varun tells me that his mother had given him strict instructions not to enter the kitchen when the café menu was being conceptualised. He spent his time instead on sourcing the best of ingredients, including a lovely ketchup made in Jamshedpur and bread too, to go with the akoori and cutlets.

Luckily for me, I happened to be there on a Sunday and Varun invited me to taste the Parsi bhonu. Joining me for lunch at Café Regal, again Varun’s guest, was Sandy Raj Singh, a senior PR professional who came back to Jamshedpur to work. Sandy had given me a lot of suggestions on where to eat at Jamshedpur on Twitter and Varun knew him and invited him too. Sandy is a third-generation immigrant in Jamshedpur.

Mutton dhansak, kachumber, chicken Afghani, chicken kevab (sic) at Cafe Regal and a matar paneer

What followed was a soulful lunch of a very well balanced and flavour packed mutton dhansak, juicy chicken kevabs (which is how Parsis pronounce kebabs) and a rather regal chicken Afghani (from King Cyrus’ court according to Varun’s research) with sali.

Akuri, chicken cutlets (not the Parsi one) at Cafe Regal with locally sourced ketchup and bread 

We also had a creamy akoori (Parsi scrambled egg), a beautiful old school but not Parsi chicken cutlet and then a ravo (a semolina based Parsi dessert). The akoori and cutlets are a part of the regular menu and my friend Debjani, who came to Jamshedpur a few days later, booked a day in advance and had the Parsi bhonu mid-week.

Varun says that there is not enough business for him to keep this slow cooked and time intensive menu every day. I do hope that he is proved wrong as the food was one of the nicest Parsi meals that I have had in a restaurant. Do keep in mind that I have had many!

Bistupur market walk & memories of Bansdroni in Kolkata

Varun and Sandy then took me on a walk down Bistupur market. 

The market reminded me a lot of the markets of Kolkata. Be it in the vibes around, the look of the shops and even the smells. It felt like home. Varun took me to a shop called Ramesh chanachur which was stocked with muri and cheere (puffed and flat rice) and peanuts just as the murir dokans of Kolkata are. The nimki Varun bought me from there tasted of Kolkata too.

5. Sitaphal milk shake at Bhatia Milk Shake. Estd 1964.

With Rajinder Singh Bhatia, second gen owner of Bhata Milk Shake

Our first stop was Bhatia Milk Shakes. It was founded in 1964 by the father of the current owner, Mr Rajinder Singh Bhatia. The family had come to Jamshedpur from erstwhile west Punjab during the Partition. Mr Bhatia told me that the family’s focus on quality is so relentless that they make their own syrups using seasonal fruits, get their own milk from buffaloes that they keep and make their own ice too!

The purity of this spirit showed in the lightness, balance and wholesomeness of the sitaphal (custard apple) milk shake that I had and the chikoo milk shake that I tasted from Varun. The story Sandy told me of an XLRI student who took suitcases full of the Bhatia syrups when leaving Jamshedpur for good suddenly made absolute sense.

6. Sattu kochuri and shingara at Brindavan Sweets

New Maha Shakti Hotel

Talking of the ‘aromas of Kolkata,’ nowhere was this more acute in the market than at the New Maha Shakti Hotel, a humble eatery serving Bengali food in the Bistupur market, which Varun apparently likes to frequent. It was after lunch hours and they were cleaning up the place but we did get to meet Mr Brajendranath Ghosh, whose father, the late Mahendra Chandra Ghosh, had set up the business in 1952. It reminded me a lot of the ‘bhaater hotels’ which one finds across the markets and bus stops of Kolkata.

A couple of shops down the line was Brindavan Sweets. A sweet shop run by another son of the founder of Maha Shakti and the younger brother of Brajendranath Ghosh, Rabindranath or Robi Ghosh. 

I was stuffed after the Parsi Bhonu at Regal and the milk shake by then, but Varun tempted me to have a bite of a sattu kochuri and a shingara despite my protests. Both were so good that I ordered one of each!

The shingaras had pieces of fried peanuts in them as the shingaras (samosas) at neighbourhood shop in Kolkata do. The potato curry served with the kochuri tasted of the city I had left behind two decades back too.

Shingara, sattu kochuri and alur torkari and rajbhog. Brindavan Sweets

On the way back, Varun took me to Brubeck Bakery which is run by his friends, Ryan D’Costa and his wife, Sana, childhood sweethearts from Jamshedpur. The café is aimed at a younger audience and has an eclectic mix of breads and cakes of the sort that you see in Irani bakeries such Merwan’s and Goan ones such as American Express Bakery and Hearsch in Mumbai, Wenger’s in Delhi and the Jewish run Nahoum’s of Kolkata. Brubeck is located at the Boulevard Hotel which was set up by John D’Costa, a Goan, in 1940. It is home to a popular Chinese restaurant called Chopsticks and Ryan told us that one gets Goan food in the hotel menu too. The hotel is run by his father Ronald, AKA Ronny, D’Costa. Turned out that Sandy often orders for the vindaloo from here. I noted all three, bakery, Chinese and Goan, for my next trip as I could not eat a morsel more. Loved meeting the couple though.

Varun with Ryan and Sana at Brubeck. Parsi, Goan and Sindhi Jamshedpur residents.

 7. Fakira chanachur. Estd 1934.

We ticked off another Jamshedpur legend in our last stop that afternoon before I headed to the hotel at the end of the walk. Fakira Chanachur. A place that almost everyone on social media told me I had to go to, with my friend Debjani appearing to be their ringleader of the Fakira fans.

Being a chanachur (namkeen) addict myself, I did not need much convincing!

Complimentary Fakira chanachoor in a thonga

Fakira was set up by the late Fakir Chand Gupta who came to Jamshedpur from Ghazipur. He started the business in 1934 (a year before Madrasi) from a cart from which he sold sada (plain) and masala (spicy) chanachur. The main shop at Tulsi Bhavan stands where the cart used to be and they have three more branches now and sell an array of snacks including the bhakarwadi of Maharashtra, mathri of Punjab, the gathiya of Gujarat and even karela (bitter gourd) chips for the health conscious.

Anup Chandra Gupta, the grandson of the man lovingly known as Fakira, told me the shop’s story while he mixed me chanchurs of different levels of spice, with finely chopped onions, green chillies and dried ginger, in a thonga (paper bag), to try. I headed back to Mumbai with many bags of mixed saada and masala chanachur for our friends.

Shopping at Fakira's. That's Anup Chandra Gupta, 3rd gen owner in green.

8. D Road shingara

I took a little break at the hotel after this and where I was met by young Rohan Das. He had most kindly brought for me what are simply referred to as ‘D Road shingaras’ in Jamshedpur, named after the road from which this nameless shop sells lip-smacking shingaras (Bengali for samosa) in the evening.

Freshly fried D Road shingara

“My tuitions had got over and I saw they were making a fresh batch and I remembered that you didn’t get to try these in the trip,” said the young aspiring chef from Jamshedpur. A fellow Bengali and a Soka Buddhist too, whom I had met in person for the first time the previous evening.

That is when I had the privilege of seeing Jamshedpur through this 16 year old momo lover’s eyes. We didn’t get to taste the Tibetan dumplings, sold by Bengalis and Jharkhandis, on the streets of Jamshedpur which Rohan dotes on, but I did get to try some other interesting street food dishes.

Posing with the D Road Shingaras much to the bemusement of Rohan at the Sonnet Lobby.

9. Regal Masala Cold Drinks. Estd 1979.

Our first stop that evening was Regal Masala Cold Drinks. A tiny shop located outside Gopal Maidan. It was established in the 1979 said the current owner. Rohan treated me to a glass of the heady mix of orange pop and cola and masala that Jamshedpur cannot seem to get enough of. 

I found it strangely refreshing.

10. Chicken Abu kebab and lachha paratha at Junction Express

Later, while trying to find a place to eat in the ‘Cinderella Hour’ of post 10 pm at Jamshedpur, Rohan took me to a roadside joint called Junction Express. A place by run by a Bengali gentleman named Nitai Ghosh, who had set the shop up on his son’s advice after he retired from the construction business in which he had worked earlier. Talking to the genial Mr Ghosh was akin to talking to a genial Bengali parar kaku (neighbourhood uncle), though his language at the pass with his staff was as colourful as Gordon Ramsay’s!

The abu kebab looks green but tasted brilliant. As were the parathas.

Rohan was a bit hesitant about whether I would be comfortable at so ‘humble’ a place but I am so thankful that he took me there. The crunchy maida lachha parathas and the amazingly juicy chicken abu kebabs, juicier than any chicken tikkas that I have ever had and so wonderfully seasoned too, were unforgettable. 

The biryani and chicken bharta that we tried, not so much, but then it was the kebab paratha that Rohan had taken me there for. We enjoyed the food sitting on the moonlit pavement, while Rohan told me about his plans to be a chef one day. Given his nose to seek out good food, I am sure he has a great future ahead of him. Incidentally, Gayatri of Madrasi Café is a big abu kebab at Junction Express fan too as I learnt the next day.

Junction Express with No Reservations

11. Club Kachori with potato curry at Time Out Restaurant (near Sonnet)

Coming back to the story of my Sunday in Jamshedpur, I was game for one last blaze of glory before the night ended. This despite the lovely club kachori and potato curry breakfast at the Time Out Restaurant at Bistupur (Sandy’s suggestion when I asked for a breakfast option close to the hotel) in the morning, the humongous Parsi bhonu at Café Regal, the hearty sitaphal milk shake at Bhatia, the sattu kachori, shingara and rajbhog at Brindavan, chanachur tasting at Fakira and the two D road samosas, that I had eaten during the course of the day.

Club Kachori with alu curry at Time Out. They might push you to the buffet breakfast but hold your ground

Sandy and Varun joined me after I stepped out of the hotel and we headed out for some street food. I had seen stalls selling the phuchkas, chowmeins, momos and rolls that are so popular in Kolkata, dot the by lanes of Jamshedpur. I managed to have the dish that I had grown up eating after school every day. The egg roll.

12. Egg roll at Prabir's, Bistupur

Iron chef, the egg roll chapter

While many had recommended Lakhi egg rolls at Sakchi, Sandy took me to Prabir’s egg roll at Bistupur as he said he prefers it. It is run by, Prabir da,  a gentleman who moved in from Kolkata two decades back. The term ‘Iron Chef,’ seemed never more deserving as it was for the young gentleman (not Prabir who was standing by the stall) whom I saw making roll after roll, egg, chicken, egg chicken, double egg, shrouded by the smoke from the flames of the gas burner, surrounding by us hungry folks placing our orders. Delivering perfection with ease.

“Double egg,” asked Sandy. “Single,” I said as I would have in Kolkata.

Jamshedpur is not Kolkata as I realised with my first bite of the roll. I should have listened to Sandy. The paratha of the roll is rolled out wider here. Which means that the eggs gets stretched more and that you do need two to give the requisite ‘egginess.’

It gave me happiness though and what more can one ask in life?

13. Surendra Kewat Litti Chokha

Surendra Kewat's Litti at Gopal Maidan

No litti chokha, you ask? Yes, I did have the only dish from Bihar and Jharkhand that most of us know of, that evening. This was at the stall run by Surendra Kewat outside Gopal Maidan. He has been running this cart for more than a decade he told me.

I was enamoured by the glorious smoked on a coal fire, baked dumpling, made with milk soaked unrefined flour (aata), which had sattu stuffed in it, and with ghee poured on it at the end. I am talking of the litti. This was served in sal leaves with a tangy tomato chutney and the chokha. 

Chokha refers to smoked and then mashed vegetables, in this case mashed potatoes, spiked with mustard oil, finely chopped green chilli and onion. 

Litti chokha

Sandy confirmed what my friend Poli’s husband Durgesh, a foodie who had grown up in Jamshedpur, had told me earlier. That traditionally the litti chokha is a community bonding dish where the men make the chokhas on cow dung cake fuelled ovens and on which the vegetable for the chokha is smoked too. This is then passed along for all the men and women gathered to have under the open winter skies.

 14. Chicken a la Kiev and akoori at Beldih Club. Est 1920

As a guest of Sandy Singh at the once 'for whites only,' Beldih Club

An apt finale for the night happened when Sandy hosted me at the Beldih Club which some had recommended to me for its old school ‘continental fare’. It is one of Jamshedpur’s original once ‘whites only’ clubs from the British era, and an institution in itself still. You need a member to get you in and I got lucky with Sandy taking me there.

The roast lamb that Sandy spoke of highly was not available that day, but the chicken a la Kiev that we had, with the butter oozing out like the Gangotri when cut into two, was truly a work of art. The thin layer cheese, added to the shredded chicken under the bread crumb coating, added a layer of panache to the dish which made it the most exquisite rendition that I have had of the chicken a la Kiev so far. Only that of Oly Pub in Kolkata would come close.

What a wonderful finish to a truly enchanted day. Oh, and we had an exquisite akoori too at Beldih and one which was spicier than the one at Cafe Regal and yet as creamy.

So long and thank you for the litti

I left for Mumbai the next morning via Ranchi, but not before meeting some  of my new friends for one last time. Gayatri and Varun joined me as I had first a podi masala dosa and filter kaapi at the Madrasi Hotel and then a Parsi poro (masala omelette), toast and cappuccino at the Regal Café before they bid me farewell. I think we all got a bit teary eyed. Metaphorically speaking.

Nothing in life is perfect I know and I am sure that there are many cracks in the idyllic world of Jamshedpur too. What I can tell you through, is that the warmth that I experienced in the city thanks to its proud citizens and the beautiful examples of unity in diversity that I saw in its food, will stay with me for long.

I did not know anything about the food of Jamshedpur till I went there I must admit. I doubt if you would either. 

Yet, I cannot not stop gushing about it ever since I came back and have become the city’s unofficial and self-appointed culinary ambassador some say. As I am sure you would too if you were to go to Jamshedpur to eat.

Makes one wonder about how little one knows about our country’s foodscape doesn’t it?

At Cafe Regal with the Tata Steel complex behind me

Do watch my most ambitious, self produced, phone shot and edited food documentary so far which covers all of what I just wrote about:


More pics

The Madrasi Hotel

With Rohan Das at Regal Cold Drinks

Meet the Bengalis

Brajindranath Ghosh: Maha Shakti

Robi Ghosh: Brindavan

Nitai Ghosh: Junction Express


Bistupur Market: Ramesh chanachur and Bhatia Milk Shakes

Cafe Regal

My constant Jamshedpur smile:


Cafe Regal



SaptarshiM said…
Relieved Jamshedpur through this blog. Brought back quite a few memories as I had lived in the city in the early 90s. Have really sweet memories of this city. One thing I was hoping to see was Bholanath Sweets. It used to be very famous for its motichur ladoos. Not sure whether the shop still exists. But an excellent capture of the food options in the city.
djsin2 said…
U left sakchi sirji it is not about jamshedpur but mostly about a part of jamshedpur.