Bengali’s triangles of delight: The capital’s samosa guy for over four decades

[Burhan Wani]

The capital’s samosa guy for over four decades:

Allah Ditta, affectionately known as Bengali Bhai, adds his special touch to the famous samosas. PHOTO: M. ALI

ISLAMABAD: Starting out in the 70’s, Allah Ditta, also known as “Bengali Bhai”, lures customers from all over Islamabad with his scrumptious bite size samosas that many consider “unmatched”.

With a small shop in Melody Market and later shifting to Sector F-6, Allah Ditta started his business after moving to Pakistan from Bangladesh in 1971. Now with the help of his two nephews, he runs a popular samosa business in the heart of the capital.

His vegetable and minced meat samosas are the talk of the town and even have their own Facebook appreciation page. Allah Ditta claims it is his “special touch” that make his samosas so different from his competitors.




The customers lined up during their lunch break seemed to agree. Mazhar Bilal, who works in an office nearby, said that he has Allah Ditta’s minced meat samosas everyday.

Another customer, Adeel Raja, said, “I have been coming here for the past 20 years. No samosa can match the ones made here.”

Melody Burger Inn also claims to be the first shop to introduce bun kebab to the capital. “After I introduced the bun kebab during Ziaul Haq’s regime, they were being sold at every little shop,” Allah Ditta said.

Living in Islamabad for decades and serving its customers from 9am to 9pm everyday has developed a certain level of patriotism in him, causing him to add, “ I am a Pakistani and so are my children.”

Apart from samosas and bun kebabs, he also offers spring rolls, pakoray and kebabs, but admits that samosas are arguably his hottest selling items.

Allah Ditta, however, complains of the decrease in customers over the last few months due to inflation. “Minced meat costs Rs300 per kilo. I had no choice but to raise prices. I’m already just barely covering my costs,” he said.

Expansion of his shop was on the cards, but because of the hike in prices and unavailability of funds the idea was put on the backburner. “We did set up tables and chairs in front of the shop, but CDA removed them,” he said.

He acknowledged that business was better when they had seating arrangement outside, as families could come and enjoy themselves instead of having to stand and eat. Allah Ditta hopes that his eldest son will take over the family business and continue his legacy of serving delicious samosas to the capital.

 

[Burhan Wani]

@DESERT FIGHTER @django @The Sandman @waz @Imran Khan @Windjammer @Khafee @Horus
@Levina @war&peace @Arsalan @Zibago
Uncle Allah Dita Bangali is my new neighbor.

Bengali’s triangles of delight

Ustad Allah Ditta, or ‘Bengali’ to his customers, keeps a vigilant eye on goings-on at his stall. — Photos by Faran Rafi



ISLAMABAD: The sizzle of pakoras frying in a vat, the intricate patterns of freshly-made jalebis and the din of clamouring customers, all vying to get their fill before Iftar. These are sights and sounds that greet you as you make your way down Street 34 in this upscale part of the capital.

You’ve probably heard of Bengali’s samosas. But if you’re not from around here, chances are you’d miss this Islamabad institution even if you passed right by it.

Tucked away in a small market in sector F-6/1, this bastion of culinary lore is as unassuming as a dhaba; because that’s literally what it is, a small outpost of deep-fryers and tables upon tables of delectable Iftar-time treats.

The man himself, Ustad Allah Ditta aka Bengali, scuttles around his stall, tipping loads of samosas fresh from the vats into containers. A wiry old man, Bengali’s arms can still manage to lift the weight of 250 of his triangular creations, no mean feat for a man who’s made this part of the capital his home ever since the province of Bengal became an independent country in 1971.

In the evening, as the scorching sun lets up a little, a mini traffic jam on this narrow street alerts you to the presence of something special. Kabir Ustad, who fries Bengali’s signature beef mince samosas, says they sell anywhere between 2,000 to 3,000 samosas every day. That’s a lot of cholesterol!

Women, children, young men on motorbikes and the more well-to-do on their Mercedes; all descend upon Bengali’s for a pre-Iftar pickup. The ustad’s son, Mohammad Bilal, tells us that although their stall is best known for their beef samosas, they make pakoras, jalebis and kachooris to meet the rising demand in Ramazan.

In a city obsessed with fine dining and hygiene, street food is not commonly held up as a delicacy. But Bengali’s case is special, because he brings a sense of history to his meaty triangles of delight.

The advent of Ramazan brings more demand, so jalebis are added to the traditional menu.
It is late in the evening and by now, a large crowd has gathered in front of the stall. In the crowd stands Nadeem, a shop owner from the Supermarket. He says he is here to buy the famous beef mince samosas. As Muhammad Bilal hands him his bag of goodies, Nadeem tells us, “I pass by this shop almost every day on my way home, but today I decided to stop get some samosas for my family. My kids will love them.”

The youth with him revs his motorcycle engine, before saying, “I’m not a regular here because I don’t like eating out. But I do make it a point every now and then to grab something for my family on my way back from work. Today, this seemed like the perfect tid-bit.”

Nida, an Islamabad-based lawyer, pulls up to the shop with her mother. They both sit on the back seat and exchange jovial glances when asked about their first experience of Bengali’s samosas. “It has almost been ten, maybe fifteen, years since we first had these. We have been fans ever since,” she claims as she rummages through her wallet to find change to give pay for her purchases two dozen mince samosas.

Workers here can fry up to 250 samosas at a time, all of which sell like hotcakes.
Saad, who works for a private company in Blue Area, says, “I do not think hygiene is ever a huge issue for anyone who comes here. Biologically speaking, our stomachs are already strong enough to bear this kind of oily food. Moreover, our immune systems are used to a lot more grease than this.”

A few paces from the legendary Bengali is another stall with the words ‘Dhaka Bengali’ emblazoned on the front. As we approach the stall, we notice that the crowd here isn’t as dense as it was at the original outlet. We try to speak to the man in charge, but he’s too busy to answer questions. “This is work-time. Come back later and we’ll chat,” he says, trying to wave us off. When asked why he’s using the name of the stall next door to sell his own wares, the man replies, “ I worked with the ustad for about five years, but then I decided to open up my own stall. ‘The Bengali’ is the name of the samosa, not the man. It is the name that sells.”

Back at the real Bengali, it is almost time for Iftar. As we say our good byes, we ask Mohammad Bilal for four dozen samosas. He smiles and, giving us a discount, asks when his picture will appear in the paper.

But it’s not like he needs the publicity. Bengali’s samosas are the stuff of legend in these parts and not even the threat of early-onset cardiac arrest can keep the real foodies from this place.


@BDforever

 

[BDforever]

@DESERT FIGHTER @django @The Sandman @waz @Imran Khan @Windjammer @Khafee @Horus
@Levina @war&peace @Arsalan @Zibago
Uncle Allah Dita Bangali is my new neighbor.

Bengali’s triangles of delight

Ustad Allah Ditta, or ‘Bengali’ to his customers, keeps a vigilant eye on goings-on at his stall. — Photos by Faran Rafi



ISLAMABAD: The sizzle of pakoras frying in a vat, the intricate patterns of freshly-made jalebis and the din of clamouring customers, all vying to get their fill before Iftar. These are sights and sounds that greet you as you make your way down Street 34 in this upscale part of the capital.

You’ve probably heard of Bengali’s samosas. But if you’re not from around here, chances are you’d miss this Islamabad institution even if you passed right by it.

Tucked away in a small market in sector F-6/1, this bastion of culinary lore is as unassuming as a dhaba; because that’s literally what it is, a small outpost of deep-fryers and tables upon tables of delectable Iftar-time treats.

The man himself, Ustad Allah Ditta aka Bengali, scuttles around his stall, tipping loads of samosas fresh from the vats into containers. A wiry old man, Bengali’s arms can still manage to lift the weight of 250 of his triangular creations, no mean feat for a man who’s made this part of the capital his home ever since the province of Bengal became an independent country in 1971.

In the evening, as the scorching sun lets up a little, a mini traffic jam on this narrow street alerts you to the presence of something special. Kabir Ustad, who fries Bengali’s signature beef mince samosas, says they sell anywhere between 2,000 to 3,000 samosas every day. That’s a lot of cholesterol!

Women, children, young men on motorbikes and the more well-to-do on their Mercedes; all descend upon Bengali’s for a pre-Iftar pickup. The ustad’s son, Mohammad Bilal, tells us that although their stall is best known for their beef samosas, they make pakoras, jalebis and kachooris to meet the rising demand in Ramazan.

In a city obsessed with fine dining and hygiene, street food is not commonly held up as a delicacy. But Bengali’s case is special, because he brings a sense of history to his meaty triangles of delight.

The advent of Ramazan brings more demand, so jalebis are added to the traditional menu.
It is late in the evening and by now, a large crowd has gathered in front of the stall. In the crowd stands Nadeem, a shop owner from the Supermarket. He says he is here to buy the famous beef mince samosas. As Muhammad Bilal hands him his bag of goodies, Nadeem tells us, “I pass by this shop almost every day on my way home, but today I decided to stop get some samosas for my family. My kids will love them.”

The youth with him revs his motorcycle engine, before saying, “I’m not a regular here because I don’t like eating out. But I do make it a point every now and then to grab something for my family on my way back from work. Today, this seemed like the perfect tid-bit.”

Nida, an Islamabad-based lawyer, pulls up to the shop with her mother. They both sit on the back seat and exchange jovial glances when asked about their first experience of Bengali’s samosas. “It has almost been ten, maybe fifteen, years since we first had these. We have been fans ever since,” she claims as she rummages through her wallet to find change to give pay for her purchases two dozen mince samosas.

Workers here can fry up to 250 samosas at a time, all of which sell like hotcakes.
Saad, who works for a private company in Blue Area, says, “I do not think hygiene is ever a huge issue for anyone who comes here. Biologically speaking, our stomachs are already strong enough to bear this kind of oily food. Moreover, our immune systems are used to a lot more grease than this.”

A few paces from the legendary Bengali is another stall with the words ‘Dhaka Bengali’ emblazoned on the front. As we approach the stall, we notice that the crowd here isn’t as dense as it was at the original outlet. We try to speak to the man in charge, but he’s too busy to answer questions. “This is work-time. Come back later and we’ll chat,” he says, trying to wave us off. When asked why he’s using the name of the stall next door to sell his own wares, the man replies, “ I worked with the ustad for about five years, but then I decided to open up my own stall. ‘The Bengali’ is the name of the samosa, not the man. It is the name that sells.”

Back at the real Bengali, it is almost time for Iftar. As we say our good byes, we ask Mohammad Bilal for four dozen samosas. He smiles and, giving us a discount, asks when his picture will appear in the paper.

But it’s not like he needs the publicity. Bengali’s samosas are the stuff of legend in these parts and not even the threat of early-onset cardiac arrest can keep the real foodies from this place.


@BDforever

 

[Burhan Wani]

Please tag your country mates here.
What makes your triangles so amazing? I asked same question with Uncle Bengali my new neighbor. Let me compare both answers.

 

[BDforever]

Please tag your country mates here.
What makes your triangles so amazing? I asked same question with Uncle Bengali my new neighbor. Let me compare both answers.

the way you fry it
@Bilal9 @Vito Corleone @Cannon Fodder @UKBengali @Khan saheb and others

 

[Burhan Wani]

the way you fry it
@Bilal9 @Vito Corleone @Cannon Fodder @UKBengali @Khan saheb and others

Sauce and material you use as per uncle Allah Dita Bengali.
His life struggle and mistreatment during 1971 war is horrible. He found his parents after 28 years after migration to ISlamabad.

 

[BDforever]

Sauce and material you use as per uncle Allah Dita Bengali.
His life struggle and mistreatment during 1971 war is horrible. He found his parents after 28 years after migration to ISlamabad.

as if i will talk about sauce and material lol
What he did in 1971 ?

 

[Burhan Wani]

as if i will talk about sauce and material lol
What he did in 1971 ?

I don't have full details. My parents were saying that he was separated from his family in 1971 war. During clashes a group of thieves broke his teeth only to snatch around 200 rupees in his pocket. He returned to Bangladesh many time after 1971 to find his parents but it takes years.
He suffered a lot to establish his business but after a lot of struggle now he is the owner of 4 houses of worth 8 crore rupees by selling Samosas and living a good life. Even his brothers betrayed him and occupied half of his property and shops but never become a hurdle to move forward.
He believe in hard work and honesty.

 

[Banglar Bir]

Mutton mince@300/= per Kilo? Wow so cheap in Pakistan,amazing.

 

[BDforever]

Mutton mince@300/= per Kilo? Wow so cheap in Pakistan,amazing.

we used to be also, once upon a time

 

[Zibago]

Mutton mince@300/= per Kilo? Wow so cheap in Pakistan,amazing.

We consume the most meat per capita in South Asia

 

[jamahir]

How can one eat two to four dozen samosas??

 

[Zibago]

How can one eat two to four dozen samosas??

Well my personal record is 7 large samosas in one go and for small one,s its 20 (cuz they are crispy and taste better)
Despite such unhealthy eating patterns i still am only 63kg

 

[Joe Shearer]

Well my personal record is 7 large samosas in one go and for small one,s its 20 (cuz they are crispy and taste better)
Despite such unhealthy eating patterns i still am only 63kg

Don't you dare quote this with that self-satisfied air. Obviously it's your genes; your parents should claim credit for your excellent weight control, NOT you.

 

[H!TchHiker]

Well my personal record is 7 large samosas in one go and for small one,s its 20 (cuz they are crispy and taste better)
Despite such unhealthy eating patterns i still am only 63kg

Just 63 ? and no body call you Teelli Pahlwan