In which we find a mandi in Mohali—and have a chat with the paneer wala.
In the heart of Punjab, Mohali is very suburban, with parks, and a lovely rose garden for walks, as well as a small shopping complex with a Pizza Hut. (Which, of course, we have tried. Yum. We have been indulging quite a bit on our adventures.)
So we were pretty surprised to see a farmer’s market in full swing on a walk to the park with my cousins, who live there. Our days were usually spent lounging around the house, going on walks to absolutely nowhere, or getting the fuck out of Mohali by public bus, shared auto rickshaw, or with extreme haggling a normal rickshaw by getting to Chandigarh, where all the action is. Relatively speaking.
We went for a walk with my cousins in what turned out to be a grocery run. Mohali turned out to have a pretty kickass mandi—open air farmer’s market, with two very knowledgeable and entertaining paneer connoisseurs, the paneer seller man, appropriately named Makhan Singh, and Sona herself, who put on her interviewer hat to quiz him.
Paneer is a very desi cheese that goes way beyond mutter paneer, which is Sona’s absolute favourite dish. Unless someone puts cream in it. Then that person, and his/her restaurant will go on Sona’s shit list. And you do not want to be there. It’s a dangerous, dark, and scary place to be.
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