Tuesday 17 / September / 2024
Walking along the streets of the city I hail from is difficult, especially when I’m trying hard to follow a healthy diet. It is nearly impossible to resist the temptation of the irresistible smells, the vibrant colours, and, of course, the loud marketing shouts coming from street vendor’s stalls. I mean, who in their right mind can say no to the khatta meetha pani puri or the chatpata sev puris?
So, when I came to Oman, among the various things I missed about Mumbai, were the thelawale bhaiyyas, as we like to call them back home. I eventually resigned myself to the brutal truth that if I wanted to dine out, it will only be in a nice, indoor, air-conditioned restaurant, seated in comfortable chairs. Never again would I stand by the road, sweating and fighting for my turn to order some hot-out-of-the frier or fresh from the grill snack to wolf-down on the spot.
Life can be unfair sometimes.
Then one afternoon I was conversing with a Lawati friend. He casually mentioned that his parents had practically lived off of the street food in Muttrah back in the day. Street food? What street food? This was an interesting and exciting development, as it was the first time that I had heard anyone mention street food in Oman. I felt a quest coming on.
He explained that in the mid 1960s, Muttrah was one of the few places in Oman that could qualify as an actual, developed city. Within it, there was an area known as Mustashfa Thomas. It was one of the busier places in town, housing a taxi stand, the driving lessons lot where drivers could practice and tests were administered, and the Royal Oman Police office. As a transportation hub, it attracted a lot of human beings, who by sunset, were a hungry crowd.
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The street completely transformed at nightfall into a bustling marketplace where Omanis would lay out their mats and fire-up their grill pits as they began yelling out in Arabic, inviting passersby to visit their impromptu food stalls. Mishkaks (grilled meat sticks served with spicy tamarind sauce) and kebabs were popular favourites, pulled hot off the barbecue and handed to customers, some of whom would wrap them up and take them home to eat, while the others would devour the snacks right then and there. Residents paid only a few “annas” for these delectable barbecued delicacies, and many, like my friend’s parents, survived on them.
A little further up the road, near the Muscat Gate, fresh fruits from Jabal Akhdar were sold. Rare, seasonal delicacies changed with the temperatures — a rotating bounty of grapes, peaches, apricots, and pomegranates. I can only imagine how crowded the stalls must have been when the first box of pomegranate made its way down the mountain.
Though quite different from the street food culture I grew up with, the street foods of old Muttrah make up an important part of Oman’s culinary history, and I don’t think there is any culture in the world that doesn’t derive a singular pleasure from enjoying a meal on the street, out in the open, surrounded by the happy hum of a market’s chatter. But, with time and evolving rules and laws, the street vendors of Muttrah slowly started disappearing, making way for the tea shops and restaurants that are found there today.
Remnants of this once vibrant food culture can still be found on the dark beaches and hidden byways. It was there I got a taste of something I was missing. No, these aren’t the street vendors of Mumbai, but on these roadsides I found authentic, cheap, delicious snacks, and, more importantly, a place to eat something hot off the grill, while standing on the street amid the boisterous shouts of customers and cooks, punctuating the hum of other happy diners whose feasts are already in hand.
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Mishkak
From Qurum to Al Mouj to Seeb Souq, and beyond, there are roadside stands selling Oman’s only indigenous street food, mishkak (or mishakik). On a humble corner of the Al Hail beach, you will find a group, of mostly men in dishdasha, gathered around a blazing grill. I instantly recognised the hungry glee in their eyes as they shouted and threw down used-up sticks. A mild-mannered man behind the flames passes out skewers of grilled meat to the ravenous customers. On the grill, bright red cubes of beef are seasoned with pepper, salt, cinnamon, and cardamom while they char, and when they are done, the skewers are dunked in a spicy, sour tamarind sauce. The taste? Paradise. Buying skewers of this treat, directly on the beach for mere baisas, transported me back to the casual street eats of my youth. It isn’t a commitment to sit confined to a long and laborious meal, it is a grab-and-go pleasure. I shouted out a number and was handed a stack of skewers, which I happily dug my teeth into right there on the road, amongst the crowd, savouring the hectic, lively atmosphere for a moment, before heading to the beach to continue my picnic.
Search for it: Roadsides near Qurum beach, near Al Mouj, in front of Seeb Souq, and on Al Hail beach.
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Chicken Tikka
I always knew that the congested, narrow streets of Ruwi must be home to some hidden, undiscovered (by me) culinary gems. And how right was I. On the same lane as K. M. Trading, I happened to stumble upon a little Pakistani...umm... let’s call it a window, through which you can see the cook labouring over his grill. Turning, marinating, shouting-out orders, maintaining accounts and collecting money, all the while chatting amiably with customers. I should say that I didn’t find the window so much as I found the queue leading up to it, and once I reached the front of the line, I found out why. A lot of grilled meat is served on-the-go from this window, but the treat everyone was clamouring for was the masala-doused chicken tikka. Many stand right outside the cook’s window, enjoying kebabs and stuffed roti while chatting. The meaty, juicy chicken can be very spicy, which just makes it tastier. It is worth the wait, and the communal sense of desire and anticipation, make it all the more satisfying.
Search for it: Side streets of Souq Ruwi, near K.M. Trading, and in Al Khuwair behind the buildings across from Safeer International Hotel.
