Ghost in the shell

Whether you're biting down on a pani puri, golgappa or phuchka, it's the puri that elevates the experience

- VIR SANGHVI

Can you think of one Indian dish that you can eat on the streets, and also at fancy, Michelin-starred Indian restaurants all over the world? And it is delicious, no matter where you eat it?

The answer is, of course, the golgappa.

It is a street food dish that pops up all over India (at least, north of the Vindhyas) in different guises.

They call it golgappa in Delhi. In Mumbai, it is called pani puri. In Kolkata, it is the phuchka. In parts of UP (where it may have originated), it is the batasha.

Most well-known Indian chefs have done interesting variations on the original. In London, Vineet Bhatia and Atul Kochhar brought it to fame (though the Bombay Brasserie had already put Mumbai chaat on the menu). In Mumbai, Hemant Oberoi invented the vodka golgappa. And in Delhi, Manish Mehrotra made it a staple of modern Indian cooking when he started serving different kinds of pani in shot glasses with plump little puris balanced on them.

I have seen caviar golgappas on menus, and many chefs pack the puris with fish, oysters and non-vegetarian fillings that would astonish street vendors.

In all the fuss, foodies rarely discuss the puri: The most important part of the dish. When we say that a golgappa from a guy in Delhi's Sundar Nagar market is better than one from a guy in say, Chandni Chowk, we discuss the pani and the fillings (if any). In fact, the difference in taste may be entirely down to the puri itself.