<p>India was acquainted with bakeries long before it was familiar with independence. </p>.<p>In what was predominantly a mithai-eating country, the aroma of posh British baked imports wafted around street corners as far back as the 19th century, when the first confectioneries are said to have been established here. Since then, eras have passed, the colonial raj has ended, markets have shifted—yet, some of those earliest ovens remain as evocatively fragrant as ever, doling out treats that satisfy taste as much as they do the heart. </p>.<p>The Smith Field Bakery, founded in 1885, prides itself on one such legacy. Established by Ponnuswamy Naicker, the bakery is presently run by the founder’s great-grandson Venkatesh Shanker. The heritage bakehouse has been around in Chennai for over 130 years, holding status as the oldest in the city.</p>.<p>Like much of their current loyal customer base, Shanker too grew up in the grand old shadow of Smith Field, living across his family bakery as a child. Every morning he would grab a few sweets off the counter to take to school—an instant recipe for adolescent fame. </p>.<p>“At the time, I wasn’t aware of the legacy,” he tells DH. He would see people lining up in droves to get their fresh batches of Smith Field’s signature hand-baked bread—a frontrunner even today. Jam buns, plum cakes and Madras butter biscuits are other long-standing favourites. </p>.<p>The foundation of the place’s enduring prestige comes from a timeless mantra that most other heritage Indian bakeries too honour: don’t forget the basics. </p>.<p>Wenger’s is a firm believer. Commanding a historic presence at the heart of the national capital since the 1920s, the vintage bakeshop has practically witnessed the colonial marvel of Connaught Place being laid out in real-time. </p>.<p>Initially conceived as a catering service by the Wengers, a Swiss couple, the establishment grew into a haunt of the British and Indian elite. In a surprising twist of fate in 1945, the Wengers handed over their pioneering business to an employee BM Tandon, in whose family the bakery remains till today. </p>.<p>Some early menu classics are still popular at Wenger’s today; it stands out like no other contemporary for its legendary patties. Kamleshwar Prasad, manager at the bakery, tells DH that they originally did margarine pastries in three basic flavours—strawberry, vanilla, and chocolate—something old-time customers remember well and place orders for even now. </p>.<p>“Hume wohi wali pastry khani hai jo pehle khaate the (we want to eat only those pastries that we used to eat earlier),” he quotes customers, saying, “they are still with us for our taste.” </p>.<p>For Delhiites, Wenger’s is more an emotion than an institution. Making a visit here is part of a steady city tradition whose significance is not lost even on the younger generations who flock to the bakery to relish either a shami kebab or a rum ball. </p>.<p>This kind of blind faith and generational fondness is enjoyed by another legacy bakehouse many miles away in Kolkata. </p>.<p>Nahoum and Sons is a piece of living history asserting its humble presence in the city’s buzzing New Market area. It is the creation of Nahoum Israel Mordecai, who, in 1902, turned his confectionery knowledge into a practical business. As the oldest and last surviving Jewish bakery in Calcutta, which was once home to a sizable population of the Baghdadi Jew community of which only countable numbers remain, Nahoum’s stature is unparalleled. </p>.<p>“If you were to ask me where I would go to get my Christmas cake, I’d say Nahoum’s without a second thought,” said Navpreet Arora, founder of the FunOnStreets walking tours in Calcutta, to DH. “There’s a colloquial phrase we jokingly use here: Nahoum’s is a bakery that Jews started, is run by Muslim workers, and is where Hindus line up to buy.” </p>.<p>Nahoum’s is, in no small part, emblematic of the plural character of the eastern metropolis, where food is religion. </p>.<p>Arora recommends the cheese straws and lemon tarts from Nahoum’s, getting momentarily nostalgic about the bakery’s long-gone jujubes and lemon drop toffees from her childhood. “Perhaps children don’t have a taste for them now.” </p>.<p>Over decades, the essential quality of their bakes has sustained, as have their price points. </p>.<p>Most Indian heritage bakeries are indeed fulfilling a long-held promise of value for money. Such true-to-word action is the conviction these old bakeries stand on, secure in their place in the face of competition from newer bakery-cum-cafes.</p>.<p>“We don’t cut corners or artificially induce things quickly. We respect the process—we are using homemade recipes, not commercial ones,” said Shanker. </p>.<p>As for Wenger’s, they still only produce bakes in limited batches. </p>.<p>“Brands today reuse their products day after day. We bake fresh daily and don’t leave leftovers,” Prasad reveals before astutely adding, “if you maintain your quality and service, you don’t have to fear competition.”</p>.<p><em>(Tanvi Akhauri is a freelance journalist and features writer covering the arts and culture beat)</em></p>
<p>India was acquainted with bakeries long before it was familiar with independence. </p>.<p>In what was predominantly a mithai-eating country, the aroma of posh British baked imports wafted around street corners as far back as the 19th century, when the first confectioneries are said to have been established here. Since then, eras have passed, the colonial raj has ended, markets have shifted—yet, some of those earliest ovens remain as evocatively fragrant as ever, doling out treats that satisfy taste as much as they do the heart. </p>.<p>The Smith Field Bakery, founded in 1885, prides itself on one such legacy. Established by Ponnuswamy Naicker, the bakery is presently run by the founder’s great-grandson Venkatesh Shanker. The heritage bakehouse has been around in Chennai for over 130 years, holding status as the oldest in the city.</p>.<p>Like much of their current loyal customer base, Shanker too grew up in the grand old shadow of Smith Field, living across his family bakery as a child. Every morning he would grab a few sweets off the counter to take to school—an instant recipe for adolescent fame. </p>.<p>“At the time, I wasn’t aware of the legacy,” he tells DH. He would see people lining up in droves to get their fresh batches of Smith Field’s signature hand-baked bread—a frontrunner even today. Jam buns, plum cakes and Madras butter biscuits are other long-standing favourites. </p>.<p>The foundation of the place’s enduring prestige comes from a timeless mantra that most other heritage Indian bakeries too honour: don’t forget the basics. </p>.<p>Wenger’s is a firm believer. Commanding a historic presence at the heart of the national capital since the 1920s, the vintage bakeshop has practically witnessed the colonial marvel of Connaught Place being laid out in real-time. </p>.<p>Initially conceived as a catering service by the Wengers, a Swiss couple, the establishment grew into a haunt of the British and Indian elite. In a surprising twist of fate in 1945, the Wengers handed over their pioneering business to an employee BM Tandon, in whose family the bakery remains till today. </p>.<p>Some early menu classics are still popular at Wenger’s today; it stands out like no other contemporary for its legendary patties. Kamleshwar Prasad, manager at the bakery, tells DH that they originally did margarine pastries in three basic flavours—strawberry, vanilla, and chocolate—something old-time customers remember well and place orders for even now. </p>.<p>“Hume wohi wali pastry khani hai jo pehle khaate the (we want to eat only those pastries that we used to eat earlier),” he quotes customers, saying, “they are still with us for our taste.” </p>.<p>For Delhiites, Wenger’s is more an emotion than an institution. Making a visit here is part of a steady city tradition whose significance is not lost even on the younger generations who flock to the bakery to relish either a shami kebab or a rum ball. </p>.<p>This kind of blind faith and generational fondness is enjoyed by another legacy bakehouse many miles away in Kolkata. </p>.<p>Nahoum and Sons is a piece of living history asserting its humble presence in the city’s buzzing New Market area. It is the creation of Nahoum Israel Mordecai, who, in 1902, turned his confectionery knowledge into a practical business. As the oldest and last surviving Jewish bakery in Calcutta, which was once home to a sizable population of the Baghdadi Jew community of which only countable numbers remain, Nahoum’s stature is unparalleled. </p>.<p>“If you were to ask me where I would go to get my Christmas cake, I’d say Nahoum’s without a second thought,” said Navpreet Arora, founder of the FunOnStreets walking tours in Calcutta, to DH. “There’s a colloquial phrase we jokingly use here: Nahoum’s is a bakery that Jews started, is run by Muslim workers, and is where Hindus line up to buy.” </p>.<p>Nahoum’s is, in no small part, emblematic of the plural character of the eastern metropolis, where food is religion. </p>.<p>Arora recommends the cheese straws and lemon tarts from Nahoum’s, getting momentarily nostalgic about the bakery’s long-gone jujubes and lemon drop toffees from her childhood. “Perhaps children don’t have a taste for them now.” </p>.<p>Over decades, the essential quality of their bakes has sustained, as have their price points. </p>.<p>Most Indian heritage bakeries are indeed fulfilling a long-held promise of value for money. Such true-to-word action is the conviction these old bakeries stand on, secure in their place in the face of competition from newer bakery-cum-cafes.</p>.<p>“We don’t cut corners or artificially induce things quickly. We respect the process—we are using homemade recipes, not commercial ones,” said Shanker. </p>.<p>As for Wenger’s, they still only produce bakes in limited batches. </p>.<p>“Brands today reuse their products day after day. We bake fresh daily and don’t leave leftovers,” Prasad reveals before astutely adding, “if you maintain your quality and service, you don’t have to fear competition.”</p>.<p><em>(Tanvi Akhauri is a freelance journalist and features writer covering the arts and culture beat)</em></p>
