Two Bengali snack carts face off on a corner of Jackson Heights, Queens. Each claims one side of a 24-hour Duane Reade, a rare bland spot in the throng of storefronts promising South Asian sweets and backroom lunch buffets basking in steam.
Tong was the first to open, a year and a half ago, followed by Fuskahouse this past January. At first, Fuskahouse parked a block away, but according to Masud Rahman, the owner, nearby restaurants complained that they were losing customers, and he had to move.
The two carts’ menus are virtually identical, headlined by fuchka, a Bengali snack that is kin to gol gappa in India’s north and pani puri in the west and south. Coins of semolina dough are slid into hot oil, where they puff up, to emerge as crackly, translucent husks.
Each orb is pinched at the top to make a hole, calling to mind an eggshell, hatched. A mash of potatoes and yellow vatana, or yellow split peas, is tucked inside, so that crunch collapses into creaminess, under a heap of red onions, bright cilantro, green chillies (on request) and kinks of grated hard-boiled egg.
What matters most is the tamarind water, the deep tang of tamarind punched up by bitnoon (black salt with a hint of sulphur) and a masala whose recipe is confidential to each vendor. Pour a little into the gaping shell, or else just dip the orb in, then pop it whole into your mouth. It bursts into a slake of sour-sweet, cool and hot at once.
Tong, a Bengali snack cart that opened a year and a half ago, in New York, Aug. 23, 2019. The cart is one of two on the same patch of turf, both with virtually identical menus, headlined by fuchka, a Bengali snack that is kin to gol gappa in India’s north and pani puri in the west and south. (An Rong Xu/The New York Times)
The arrival of two fuchkawalas (fuchka vendors) on the same patch of turf would not be news in Dhaka, Bangladesh, or Kolkata, the capital of the Indian state of West Bengal. There, you have your pick of carts with fuchka shells stacked high, draped in plastic, like trapped balloons.
But in New York, it’s not so common to find Bengali snacks on the street. “Everything is here, except this,” said Md Naeem Khandaker, 26, owner of Tong and a native of Bangladesh.
He makes his fuchka shells with a touch of rice flour, for extra crispness, and builds his masala out of 16 ingredients that must go unnamed. Two types of tamarind water are available, one thrillingly sour (and superior), the other tipping toward sweet.
His rival at Fuskahouse, Rahman, 33, is a fellow Bangladeshi immigrant who used to drive a taxi and now runs two Subway franchises in Westchester. The men know each other; a few years ago, they were briefly roommates.
Rahman said he had long planned to open a Bengali snack cart, and when he saw the snaking lines at Tong — “people waiting, waiting” — he felt there was need for another option.
The fuchka shells at Tong are light and quick to shatter, but so are those at Fuskahouse. In truth, both versions are delicious, although I preferred Tong’s for its sour tamarind water; Fuskahouse offers only one type, with a sugary tinge.
Plates of food, including fuchka, deep-fried semolina shells filled with potatoes and yellow split peas, and tamarind water for dipping, from Fuskahouse, a Bengali snack cart that opened in January, in New York, Aug. 23, 2019. The cart is one of two on the same patch of turf, both with virtually identical menus, headlined by fuchka, a Bengali snack that is kin to gol gappa in India’s north and pani puri in the west and south. (An Rong Xu/The New York Times)
Some of the same elements in fuchka reappear in chotpoti: mashed potatoes and yellow vatana doused with tamarind water until almost soupy, with the fuchka shells crushed and littered on top. Again, a slight edge goes to Tong for adding tomato and cucumber, jolts of freshness in an earthy dish.
But Fuskahouse’s jhal muri is the one I’d return for, puffed rice tossed with chanachur — a spicy fry of lentils, flatten