As two hip Mumbai eateries give bhujing a groovy spin on their menus, we land up at Virar's Agashi Bhujing Centre for the real deal
On a rain-soaked Sunday morning, the aroma of spice-pecked roasted chicken guides us to Agashi Bhujing Centre in Agashi, approximately five kilometres away from the bustling Virar station. The minimally-furnished centre offers no dine-in option. There's no menu card either.
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Marinated chicken is skewered and roasted in a coal kiln at Agashi Bhujing Centre. Pics/Nimesh Dave
Instead, on one of its pale blue walls, hangs a banner that displays the offerings — four varieties of bhujing (Chicken, Mutton, Chicken Boneless and Chicken Special) and two types of rassa (Chicken and Mutton). The rates are mentioned on per kilo basis, starting at '320 (Chicken Bhujing).
"We don't serve anything per plate," clarifies 28-year-old Chirag Gawad, a third-generation owner of the 75-year-old centre, which birthed the bhujing back in 1940, and still thrives on its popularity. The hyper-local dish has now become a favourite with politicos ("We send it to Mantralaya when they have a party. Sharad Pawar also loves it") and picnickers, who pick it up en route to the nearby Arnala beach.
The chicken is fried with onions and stocked in aluminium containers
B for Bhujing
Gawad's grandfather, Babu Hari, who ran the family business of making tadi (palm wine), invented bhujing at the behest of his friends. "When they met up for a drink, they would often demand a chakhna (appetiser). So, he roasted mutton in a brick kiln but it turned out to be greasy. So, he added poha to soak the oil and it worked. That's how bhujing was born," says Gawad's 72-year-old uncle, Sudhakar, who also runs the business.
The word, bhujing is derived from the Marathi word, bhujne, which means roasting. "In the 1940s, many affluent residents in close contact with the British, added 'ing' to the dish," he adds, as Gawad leads us to the back of the shop.
Raw nylon poha is added to the mix just before serving
We step into a factory of sorts where six staffers are busy separating raw chicken pieces. "We get our chicken from a poultry that uses US-based technology. On an average, we get 125 kilos of chicken daily," informs Gawad. While the leg and breast pieces are kept aside for the Chicken Boneless Bhujing, the rest are marinated (a mix of turmeric, cumin and coriander powder) and skewered, with a few potato pieces thrown in.
For over 10 minutes, a large coal-stoked brick kiln breathes fire on the meat, giving it a reddish glow. Then, the meat is shallow fried with onions and stocked in aluminium containers, each amounting to one kilo. "At a time, we can make 50 kilos of the dish, and the process is carried out thrice a day, based on the demand," says Gawad.
Chicken Bhujing
The nylon effect
There's more. When we request a plate, Gawad reheats the meat, adds two fistfuls of raw nylon poha (flattened rice) and a generous amount of garam masala (cloves, cinnamon, cardamom, red chillies and dry coconut). Tossing it together, he ladles it in a plate. A burst of smoked and spicy flavours greet us as we dig in.
The poha is cooked perfectly in the chicken's heat. "We hand-pound the spices and source poha from Madhya Pradesh and Navsari. If I automate the process, I will be able to set up branches but then, the dish will lose its traditional flavour," says Gawad, who returns to a customer, leaving us to polish off the heavenly dish.
Chirag Gawad (centre)âÂÂu00c2u0080ÂÂu00c2u0088with uncle Sudhakar (left) and father Jaywant
Open All days Time 8 am to 1 pm;
4 pm to 9 pm
At Shop No 3-4, Shrutika Apartment, Agashi Bhandarwada, Virar (W).
Call 8888199009
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