Yummy Rasgulla's = Chotu Motu Joshi

Kachori and Samosa are the mainstay breakfast of the Indian middle class, especially in the central, western and northern parts of this diverse country. The key to it being so well liked is its ability to be served as a heavy as well as a tasty quick snack. Bikaner is a city where these snacks have been a rage ever since they were introduced to this humble city. There are long lines of people waiting in the wee early hours of the morning to grab a quick bite and get on with the day. As a matter of fact there is not one street in this crazy city without its own local sweet shop and each and every one of them with their exclusive style of preparing these gods of Indian street food.

Chotu Motu Joshi a name that echoes in the ear of a true Bikaneri, was our next destination.  Back in the day I would wake up every morning and hop on my Nana’a Bajaj scooter and demand for some freshly fried Samosa’s and Kachori’s and without much ado Nana would rush through the morning traffic straight into the lane, where food is celebrated as a daily festival. A lane where legends like Lal Ji Chat wale and Chotu Motu joshi would sell some appetizing sweet and savoury dishes by satisfying our tummies till the next morning’s Delhi Belly fiasco.

I grew up listening to stories of my naughty Shamu (Nanosa), when he would take my mother as a kid to Chotu Motu Joshi, and they would stand at the shop trying every single sweet it had to offer, and once this outing came to an end he would say thank you to Mr Joshi and leave without paying. My little mother would say “Nahi papa, we have to buy something from the shop it doesn’t look nice” and Nana would give his typical mischievous smirk and say “ok beta, tell me what you want”. Mama would usually stand there and insist on taking home her favourite Ras Madhuri.  Like father like daughter is all that I can say, both had their ways of getting back at each other at the right time.  I still fail to understand if she asked Nana to buy something out of righteousness or if she just wanted to take his case.

An established businessman Mr Jag Mohan Joshi, told us about how his grandfather Mr Chotu Lal Joshi built this empire along with his elder brother Mr Motu Lal Joshi about 90 years back. The interesting part about the entire story is that his great grandparents didn’t take much interest while naming their children (as Chotu means small and Motu means big, in Hindi, lol). Hence the name “Chotu Motu Joshi” cropped up. Although, I would give them credit for coming up with some great recipies, which are strictly hidden from the outside world, after all “competition ka zamana hai bhai” and this family certainly takes the cake home.

Along with Samosa’s and Kachori’s this Mishthan Bhadar offers a variety of Indian sweets such as Rasgula, Ras Madhuri, Cham-Cham, Moti Paakh and Ladoo’s. My personal favourite would of course be their juicy Rasgula’s. Dipped into a pool of sugar syrup these Rasgula’s are handmade and are now packaged to be sold out commercially. Milk, water and sugar are the only components used to make these round sugar coated and completely fattening bombs. Can you imagine it’s that simple and yet no other sweet shop in this city can create the same ambiance in my heart? The reason behind the success of Chotu Motu Joshi, are the several workers who knead the cottage cheese for hours until it softens and forms into tinny balls that can melt in ones mouth within seconds. But let me warn you, once you start popping them in your mouth, there is no stopping my dear, until you realise that the buttons on your denims have given up all their strength.

After paying a visit to this massive factory, Harshlata and I plonked ourselves into their newly constructed restaurant. We tried every possible thing on the menu that morning and Mr Joshi’s kind hospitality left me thinking, “In this world full of selfish people, there still live a few souls who have dedicated their lives to feed the hungry without caring much about filling their bank accounts”. To be honest, Bikaner is probably the only city where the mind is without fear and the head is held high, where food can be given for free, where this city has not been broken up into fragments by narrow domestic walls, where culture comes out from the depth of truth, where culinary kings are still striving to stretch their arms towards perfection, where the clear stream of humanity has not lost its way into the dreary desert sand of dead habit, where the stomach is made hungry by thee into everlasting thought and satisfaction, into that heaven of freedom my father let my country awake.