India (Frommer's, 4th Edition) - Keith Bain [514]
Smart options aside, what Amritsar is known for are its traditional dhabas, simple eateries where food-mad Punjabis happily look beyond the less-salubrious surrounds in favor of a lip-smacking meal. Chief among these is Kesar da Dhaba in Bazaar Passian, where, for close to 100 years, superb vegetarian curries have created countless devotees. For Amritsari fish—here, fabulous batter-fried sole from the Beas River, flavored with lovage (a thymelike spice)—you must go to Makhan Fish House (Lawrence Rd.), another famous dhaba, where things are eternally simple and cheap. Another stalwart serving delectable fish and chicken is Bharawan da Dhaba ( 0183/253-2575), which also does simple, delicious paratha, and dal is dished; wash your meal down with one of their utterly decadent lassis. Surjit’s Chicken House (Lawrence Rd.) is the spot if you’re looking for a sit-down meal of delicious butter chicken and kulchas or lachedar parathas.
Finally, if aesthetics matter to you, the smartest restaurant in town is Thai Chi at the Ista hotel (G.T. Rd.; 0183/270-8888), where you can get authentic, surprisingly good-value Thai and Chinese dishes served in chic surroundings. Everything’s made to your specifications, so you can ask chef Mani to tone down the spices if you prefer (incidentally, anything with silken tofu is highly recommended, as is the Szechuan-style bean curd). If you’re not staying in the hotel, have after-dinner drinks at the Lotus Lounge (just off the lobby) which has become a favorite haunt for wealthy nonresident Punjabis out to pay tribute to their holy temple.
Not Quite the City of the Future: Stopover in Chandigarh
More than merely a useful stopover en route to Amritsar or Shimla, the entirely planned city of Chandigarh is celebrated as a daring experiment in modernist urban design. It’s the creation of Le Corbusier, the father of modernism, whose grid-plan “living organism” design was a response to Nehru’s dream to build, in his words, “a new town symbolic of the freedom of India, unfettered by the traditions of the past, an expression of the nation’s faith in the future.” When Punjab was divided after Partition, Lahore went to Pakistan, leaving the state without a capital; Chandigarh—a groundbreaking experiment, built from scratch during the 1950s—was envisioned as the new headquarters. When Punjab was once again divided into smaller states, the city became a Union Territory serving as the administrative capital for both Punjab and Haryana. Le Corbusier is largely responsible for designing the mesh of rectangular units, or “sectors,” into which the city is divided. Characterized by broad boulevards, large landscaped parks with abundant trees, and quadrants of tidy, self-sufficient neighborhoods made up of buildings with louvered screens (brise-soleil), exposed brickwork, boulder stone masonry, and unfinished concrete surfaces, Le Corbusier’s city doesn’t quite function as the living organism it’s intended to be. Urban decay and waste have crept in, and the sheer scale of the city—much of which is given over to civic administration—lends it a slightly ghostly, alienating atmosphere (especially on weekends). With the city layout designed to keep residences away from main roads, and the rigid grid system ensuring plenty of space between buildings, the city lacks the frenetic buzz that’s synonymous with urban centers around the country. Chandigarh ends up feeling very un-Indian, something of a shock if you’ve just arrived from a metro like Delhi. But architecture buffs will find Le Corbusier’s structural contributions intriguing. If you’re particularly interested, start with a visit to the Architecture Museum (Sector 10), where the story behind the city is revealed through a dated display of archive materials which includes original design sketches, plans, and newspaper articles. The museum forms part of a larger Cultural Complex, where you might want to explore