[category]
[title]
Review
Murgi Chowk, a market dating to the 1890s, retains few traces of its past. Once a bustling place of trade for livestock, meat and poultry and built during the time of the sixth Nizam of Hyderabad, the market’s now a busy thoroughfare, lined with shops selling odds and ends – pets, antiques, tarpaulin, and even an ancient establishment dedicated exclusively to sharpening knives.
Yet a fixture of the old days remains: Qadeem Achar Ghar, a pickle store established in 1954 by Shaik Osman Al Amoodi. The shop began as a small grocery corner, actually – pickles were initially only sold as add-ons.
‘Pickles were only homemade in those days. My grandfather wanted to have an additional source of revenue, and because the pickles he made were good, it took off,’ said Shaik Huzaifa Al Amoodi, the current owner of the store. The family’d sell a pack of pickle for about four annas each – a price considered a little steep in those days for a condiment every household made!
Qadeem, which translates to ‘old’ in Urdu, was a moniker bestowed over time; it had no name, and because it was the only pickle store around for years, when newer ones eventually opened, people simply called it ‘the old one’. Ghar, or home, was added as a nod to the fact that these were homemade recipes.
For decades, it was simply known as chowk ka achaar and primarily sold three varieties: aam (the traditional mango version), nimbu (lemon), and for special occasions like Ramzan, tarkari ki achaar (made from whatever vegetable was in season, from potato and brinjal to beans and gourds).
In the 70s, things began to shift, when Huzaifa’s father Shaik Obaid Al Amoodi, a foodie, was keen on expanding the repertoire of the family business. He set about experimenting with flavours, adding more than ten flavors ranging from non-vegetarian options like chicken and mutton to other traditional ones, like tomato, garlic, and green chili.
Step into the establishment today, and it is like stepping back into a portal of the past. Rows of glass jars gleam, like little flavour bombs, each one telling its own story. There’s the sticky-sour pull of imli, the sharp, unmistakable bite of gongura that defines Andhra on a plate, and the bold punch of garlic that lingers long after.
One of my personal favorites was the sesame version: a little salty, a trifle tangy, and something that I hadn't tasted anywhere else in years. It rekindled an old memory: my paternal grandmother, something of a legend with pickles herself, making her own at home and the kids queuing up for a taste. ‘For Hyderabadis and in the Deccani way of life, achar is culture,’ says Huzaifa. ‘Friday meals are incomplete without khatti (sour) dal, talawa gosht, papad, and pickle. In Telugu families, even today, most people start their meal with some pickle; it’s simply a way of life here.’
Today, they sell 16 different varieties, and the latest and the only new offering in decades is the biryani pickle, which was introduced a couple of years ago. Understanding the power and pull of Hyderabadi biryani and considering that a large number of expats live in the US and Gulf, the family wanted to create a similar rendition with the flavor, aroma, and nostalgia of biryani; one that can simply be mixed with rice to recreate a familiar taste of home.
It took two months of trial and error as well as numerous batches to get the consistency right and has over twenty ingredients, ranging from fried onion and cashew to a spice mix including cloves, cardamom, and cinnamon. It is a vegetarian offering, and perhaps their biggest hit with orders pouring in, even from abroad.
At a time when competition has soared, how do the owners stay ahead of the curve? Huzaifa says quality is their USP. The vegetarian pickles are made fresh twice a week, while the non-vegetarian ones are made every couple of days. In season (vacation times usually), they sell up to ten kilos of the non-vegetarian pickles each day. It also remains a family-run business, with Huzaifa and his two brothers themselves making the pickles (something we picked up when we were in school, he grins) that they sell.
The store has also moved along with the times. With the younger generation coming in, they now have a website people can order from; the orders are vacuum-sealed, and their Instagram game is very handy in spreading word. Along with pickles, they also sell a variety of papad (mostly from lentils and rice), creating a combination of pickle and papad as heady as fish and chips or peanut butter and jelly.
As customers stream in briskly and gather, Huzaifa says their biggest publicity is word of mouth. ‘Most customers say they used to accompany their father or grandfather, and today, they drop in with their own children, saying that even after decades it tastes the same.’
Over the years, Murgi Chowk has changed beyond recognition, but inside a 250 sq ft shop, the pickle still tastes like it did more than seventy years ago.
Discover Time Out original video
Â