In the heart of Gulshan-2, a stone's throw away from Dhaka's high-end establishments, my colleague, Orchid Chakma and I stumbled upon something magical — a street that felt like home. You might be wondering, what could possibly exist in Gulshan that does not involve overpriced real estate and the type of fusion food no one asked for? Well, let me tell you, dear readers, we found a street food paradise, and it was not just any street food; it was the kind that takes you back to your roots, where flavours speak louder than décor.
It all began on a typical post-workday, on one of our many "field adventures," where we are supposed to find the next big story. Orchid Bhai was snapping away, hoping to catch some candid moments of Gulshan life — cue shiny cars and people sipping artisanal coffee that has cardinal directions on the cup.
Fate, it seems, had other plans!
We somehow got off the main road, and before we knew it, we were in front of a group of carts, temporary eateries, and individuals who appeared to be much more joyful than they were entitled to be.
This was not the usual Gulshan affair. There were no marble countertops or Instagram influencers balancing matcha lattes on one hand while posing with a pout. No, here, the stars were "Fuchka Bhai" and "Fuchka Mama," holding down their respective fuchka and chotpoti stalls like the legends they are.
With a confidence that only comes from years of street food mastery, they served up plates of crispy fuchka and fiery chotpoti, making you forget that just minutes ago, you were contemplating whether truffle oil really belongs in everything.
One bite of that tamarind-soaked goodness, and suddenly, we were not in Gulshan anymore. We were transported back to the chaotic street corners of our childhood, where snacks came fast, cheap, and utterly delicious.
Further down, "Rubel Mamar Shahi Halim" had set up shop with an assortment of deshi comfort food that could cure even the worst of days — halim, nihari, khichuri, tehari, duck curry — you name it. The kind of food your mother would cook when she was feeling generous, except here, it's ready in minutes, and costs less than your favourite café's caramel frappuccino.
Honestly, Rubel Mama might just be the unsung hero of Dhaka's food scene, offering bowls of soul-soothing Halim while you sit on plastic stools, not a care in the world about aesthetics.
But the real treat was "Kabab Station." Here, the smoky aroma of chicken reshmi, beef sheek, gurda, and khiri kebabs filled the air. And to top it all off? Motka cha — a steaming cup of tea served in a humble clay pot.
After a bit of 'investigative journalism,' we got to know that this street stays lively from the hours after sunset till 4 AM. Yes, you read that right. Night owls, rejoice!
As we sat there, munching on kebabs and watching the world go by, it hit me — this street was the perfect antidote to the polished, pristine version of Dhaka that Gulshan tries so hard to maintain. Sure, you can dine at places with mood lighting, imported goods, and waiters who can explain the origin of every ingredient on your plate, but when's the last time you left a restaurant feeling truly satisfied? Not "I paid a lot so I guess I should be happy" satisfied, but the kind that fills both your stomach and your soul?
For those of us who grew up in Dhaka, there's something about street food that high-end dining can never replicate. The food here does not just feed you — it reminds you of where you come from, of the late-night snacks with friends, and the chaotic, delicious mess of it all.
Take "Rater Kabab," for instance, which sets up shop late into the night, offering a glorious spread of kebabs and luchies — that deep-fried puff of heaven that can single-handedly restore your faith in carbs.
These kinds of establishments serve as a reminder of the true meaning of eating in a city where "fine dining" has come to be associated with prestige. Sure, you can treat yourself to Italian food or sushi, but sometimes, all you need to feel human again is a dish of fiery chotpoti or a juicy kebab.
What's the best part? Nobody is interested in whether your attire complements the décor or whether your cuisine is "Instagrammable." Simply take a seat, eat, and let the food speak for itself.
Take a different route the next time you are sick of navigating Dhaka's upscale eating scene, which is full of expensive steaks and avocado toasts. Enjoy some late-night kebabs, a dish of fuchka, or a stroll down this little-known street in Gulshan, and let the tastes transport you back to your origins. After all, it's the little, unpolished nooks like these that serve as a reminder of why we initially adore this city, which is always striving to be something it's not.
**The carts mentioned above are situated on the street of Burger King and Lavender superstore in Gulshan-2 junction.
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