BOBA.
The first time I met the lovely black balls was sometime around 2007. That was the start of an instant and torrid love affair. After sampling most of the menu in the juice shop that magically carried boba, I was under the completely misguided idea that this was a niche fad exotic thing native to the middle of nowhere Moreno Valley, CA.
2009. I come to Berkeley. Instantly, I am aware of my tunnel vision. There are more boba places in Berkeley than ice cream establishments. I don’t know what to do with myself. For my 3 years in college, my #firstworldproblems consist of whether or not to try the avocado slushy with boba in it or stick with the large jasmine green tea, no ice, milk, pearl. Do I feel like the honey-y vibes of Sweetheart Cafe or the stable brown-sugary vibes Moccacino? And then in late 2012, whether to walk all the way to University and remain an Asha Tea House loyalist or to cheat with the far inferior Sheng Kee (size can matter).
Long story short, I’m really into this boba thing. Like really big.
It was almost the 3.25 of my 3.5 month stint in India this past January when I decided that it was ridiculous that I hadn’t had any boba in so long. So I googled and found that in all of Delhi, mind you ALL OF DELHI, there was one lone boba place that was recently reviewed (potentially open) and seemed halfway worth the effort. Finally, one morning as they say in Hindi, muhurt nikla and I decided to take the plunge, i.e., an 80 rupee auto ride all the way to Sarojini Nagar at like 10 in the morning.
I literally have no idea where Sarojini Nagar is so 45 minutes into the auto ride I’m praying that I’m going in right direction. The auto guy lets me off in front of some gali and tells me if I walk straight I’ll be in the main market. So not sketch dude, thanks.
I make it to the market and I’m kind of impressed by how it looks like a better organized Lajpat Nagar but with largely western clothes. Mind you, I’m here to look for boba but nope, I end up eyeing this dress and the of course the shop keeper notices and he starts heckling and when he gets to 300 rupees I’m all ears. And then of course 300 rupees quickly turns into more money as I’m kind of into this shirt I see. The guy tells me it’s from gay-puh. The label says Gap. We chat for a second and I’m like dude I don’t know what gay-puh is, is that a brand, I’ve never seen it in India. He’s like no madam it’s big in Amrika. I’m like how do I know you’re not full of shit, I’ve never heard of gay-puh. Then he pulls out this Anne Klein dress off his rack and he’s like you’ll have to trust me but these are all big brands. 20 minutes of bartering later, all three clothes, definitely genuine Gay-puh, H&M and Anne Klein, are with me for 800 rupees. I’m definitely into this Sarojini Nagar deal.
I walk further on and discover this enormous pile of coats going at 50 rupees a coat. That’s like 90 cents a coat. My inner bargain hunter has been channeled. I’m convinced there are strings attached. (Are they going to rob me of my coat later?) Also, I do not need a coat. But there are so many people buying coats that I follow the herd and go against my better judgment and start hunting through the piles. I find this super cool, man coat that fits too big, pay my 50 rupees and that, ladies and gents, is how I walk out of the market. I’m pretty sure most of the vendors think I’m out of my mind but whatever, they don’t know me. Plus it’s wool and if I get it altered, I’ve saved myself a fortune.
Indianizing Alcohol
I finally remember the boba and get to it. I make it to the DLF center and go up and down, most of the place is under construction. Nothing. I ask a couple of youngish, boba-aged couples if they’ve ever seen a boba place. Nothing. Finally, I head into Haldiram’s and ask the guy at the counter. What ensues is a hilarious conversation. Explaining the concept of black balls in Hindi, comparing them to small, white tapioca balls, describing how they’re drunk in tea and finally explaining that no, I’m not confusing it with vodka. Eventually some manager guy hears me and says that people weren’t into the tea so it closed down. So much for that. But at least this illustrates how far I’m willing to go for love.
I’m so hungry at this point. I’ve resisted the idea of Haldiram’s for the longest time. I don’t exactly know why. Perhaps because the name is eponymous with the namkeen I’m so familiar with or because I just couldn’t imagine what Haldiram’s would be like. But after surveying this establishment, I gave it a try. And it was more than satisfactory. I had the Pav Bhaji which was freshly prepared and not too oily or salty. I had a fresh lime soda which was also quite nice and I topped it off with some chocolate cake and ice cream which was also, surprisingly to me, yum.
Pav Bhaji at Haldiram’s
All in all, sans boba, my day has gone pretty well.
I reach our hotel and show off my new finds. Of course, the fresh set of eyes that are my mums immediately point to all the flaws in my finds including but not limited to a tear in the dress, a weathered tag on one of the coats, a tear in the lining of my amazing man coat and tiny whole in the pocket. My dad comes out of the bathroom and upon hearing how cheap the coats were, pronounces it stolen material.
So I don’t get boba and I’ve bought some stolen clothes. The silver lining? Haldiram’s.
Naturally, I go back. The South Indian food is lackluster. The Chinese food, while extremely garlicky, is good for a day when you’re down for extremely garlicky. Fortunately for me, this is everyday so I throughly enjoy my meal. Also, they have dope rasgullas, like Kolkata status delicious.
***In case you’re wondering, my tailor assured me that my clothes or any clothes in Sarojini Nagar are not stolen. Apparently you find that stuff in Lal Quila. And let the record show that for a perfectly altered, wool, dry-cleaned and relatively awesome man-coat, I paid about fifteen dollas. Also, in the event that the coat was stolen, I hereby indemnify myself of any thievery as I definitely did not steal the coat and my involvement in the process is like if your mom decided to punish you and put your favorite sweater for sale at the thrift shop and I bought it; in both scenarios, I have no idea what’s going on so it’s definitely not my fault.
Haldiram’s
DLF South Square, Sarojini Nagar, New Delhi
Google your nearest location because it is all over Delhi and pretty much all over India.
Bosmopolitan 