A steaming hot ‘bhaanrer’ cha (served in earthen cups) or laal cha (black tea) or nimbu chai (lemon tea) or even the sugarless milk tea for health-conscious customers, plus a dash of adrak (ginger slivers) or kesar (saffron) for the adventurous… the catalogue board at a cramped footpath eatery clearly reads the stock of beverages every morning, irrespective of the weather being sunny, muggy or foggy. It gives consumers enough options to gauge their diverse preferences.

Welcome to the 24×7 food den in tech territory, or, in other words, the Sector V area of Salt Lake spilling a bit into New Town.

The crowd, comprising both young software-whiz kids and middle-aged salaried personnel, trooped in for a quick breakfast of egg toast with an occasional layer of butter and a lazy dusting of gol morich (black pepper) atop a loaf of bread or a foamy bun. This, along with a pair of bananas plucked from the hanging fruity columns, a glass of juice or mocktail, and a warm cuppa, seems to make the visitors a happier lot, gorging on the titbits on offer and polishing off their plates in one go.

If the above doesn’t look fair enough to start off the day at Kolkata’s Silicon Valley, then wait with bated breath for more epicurean discoveries during luncheons and in high tea breaks.

An oasis to unwind

At 2 p.m., IT professional Gaurav Dixit reclines in his revolving seat to rest his back and let its ache subside a bit, a condition that he developed as a by-product of his long hours of sedentary work and tight deadlines. He feels the urge to take a desperate sip of piping hot coffee to moisten his throat and grab a desirable bite from delectable savouries to satiate his hunger.

The same goes for 30-something techie Sunaina Bagchi from the adjacent MNC, who craves a stimulating beverage and a delicious meal to rejuvenate and brainstorm over her next project. Well, it’s lunch time, folks, and the cutting-edge smart zone comes alive with its favourite haunt of curbside grub hubs.

“We need a window to chill out amid our day-to-day grind, which often becomes demanding with targets to achieve and timelines to meet. So, to have a whale of a time by catching up on our addas (animated chitchats) and finding a befitting breathing space, we frequently hop to these food shacks,” gushes a relaxed 27-year-old Rahul Pramanick, whose irresistible staples are a cup of lebu cha over a smoking fag when work gets really hectic and bogs him down. He tramples the leftover cigarette stub under his feet before disposing of it in a sand-stacked bin and then continues to add, “Chicken biryani is one delicacy here that I seriously can’t refuse.”

For many, the easy-breezy ambience of these low-profile food sheds means an escape route from the rigorous work pressures. “I know we even jostle for space at times to grab our plates from the seller’s hands, but there is an aura of unbeatable warmth around these places amid that chaotic urban cacophony,” insists a beaming Priti Dey from Mpokket with her colleague-cum-bestie Basantika Saha in tow.

“We are sold on the Chinese delights like the mixed hakka noodles with nuggets of chicken and fried eggs or the more wholesome veg noodles with a profuse dose of Szechuan sauce,” shares Saha before signing off. While some prefer chowmein with gravy flowing all over, for others, it’s a strict no-no. “I like it dry and fried,” says another staffer from the same organisation.

Oh Kolkata!

The food retreat in the tech corridors of the city offers a mind-boggling variety of the old and new. From the age-old modest pice hotels of downtown north Kolkata’s dingy alleys that hark back to the British Raj in the erstwhile Calcutta to the Dalhousie Square food stalls pandering to office babus, the interlinking Webel and College More stretches leading to the gastronomical routes of the Electronic Complex in Bidhannagar. A welcome treat for the millennials and Gen Z office-goers at the hi-tech haven.

The cool dudes in jeans and tees as well as the hip damsels in cosy tops and slacks seize a perfect plea to venture out from the plush, watertight AC cubicles of their workstations to climb downstairs and hit the road for a yummy breakfast, a sumptuous lunch or a reinvigorating tea-and-snacks break to clear their clogged heads.

The sprawling Nabadiganta arena encompasses MNCs and behemoth establishments like the Millennium City building, the Globsyn Crystals property, and the Technopolis facility, among others, housing some of the top-notch entities from the corporate world.

Streetside stories

With limited capacity and no-frills services, IT food addresses believe in delivering only the essentials at affordable prices. However, the teeming crowds can gleefully swear on the heavenly taste of the items scooped out across the counters in divergent flavours like sweet, sour, salty, hot and spicy. “We never compromise on taste or the efforts made to guarantee our flawless cooking methods. Instead, we focus on whipping up a slew of exciting dishes for our routine patrons,” promises a shop owner. As part of ancillary businesses, many shops take occasional orders to cater to wedding buffets and other social ceremonies.

Quantity over quality?

Is it already plenty on your plate and more than a mouthful to chew on? Then better watch out! Tracing the pros and cons of Kolkata’s street food philosophy, a weary and curious traveller would definitely crane his neck and sharpen his gaze before casting it on the pleasing platters to check their worth and the price points pegged around the same. Inquisitive minds would invariably stumble upon the essential parameters of health, hygiene, and sustainability. One may even frown upon the quality of food, writing it off immediately as junk.

The middle-aged director of a US-headquartered investment research firm, Amlan Nag, minces no words in dubbing the stuff “average”. “I’d rather bank on my office pantry catering an array of interesting refreshments and several rounds of tea or coffee at my desk to keep my mind ticking like the clock,” the boss argues. “On the days we seek adventure outside our building facades, my team and I blindly trust the nearby swanky dhabas, restopubs and upmarket watering holes just for a kick,” he attests before hurrying out.

Relatable picture

The familiar tarpaulin shades and plastic sheets are balanced on pillars erected with bamboo structures under state-sponsored trident lamps and tangled electric wires. Broad signboards are hung in emboldened letters, while eatable items are scribbled on handmade menu cards pasted across glass partitions. Prima facie, the shops could give off a shabby impression, but at the end of the day, all pull off a decent business, minting sufficient money to feed families and eke out subsistence for the owners as well.

As the evening approaches, the sky gets painted in the palette of twilight, and darkness settles in. “It’s pack-up time for the IT vicinity,” as if a soundless siren signals. Before the food cabins close their shutters, the swarming mob changes to a thinning last-minute flock engaged in small talks prior to calling it a day. The rented bulbs start glowing in the shops queued up on the concrete sidewalks, hemming an avenue of tall trees.

It is then 45-year-old senior engineer Nandini Biswas slows down her four-wheeler in front of a fast food centre to order four parathas and a bowl of chicken bharta before the latter folds up the day’s sales. “I have to go to the parlour on the opposite side. So, I just thought of parcelling out tonight’s dinner. Where else would I get rapid service with quality assurance?” She signs off.

The writer is a freelance journalist.