THE 90s
Before food became a business idea, it was a childhood memory.
Much of that childhood was spent at Nana ji’s home in Buwana Lakhu, Haryana—among village lanes, wedding kitchens and meals made without unnecessary show.
OUR STORY • BUWANA LAKHU, HARYANA
WHERE THE 90s STORY REALLY BEGAN
शायद स्वाद से मेरा रिश्ता वहीं शुरू हुआ था।
Before Murthal Dhaba 90s was a brand, there was a bicycle, a village in Haryana, and a halwai everyone called Teje.
Follow the memory ↓A HARYANA VILLAGE • THE 1990s
A bicycle. A wedding kitchen. A taste that stayed.
In the 1990s, much of my childhood was spent at my Nana ji’s home in Buwana Lakhu, Haryana. His name was Tejpal Singh, though almost everyone knew him as “Teje Halwai.”
He travelled from village to village to cook for weddings and community functions. I would sometimes sit on his bicycle and go with him. Those journeys—the village roads, the cooking fires, large utensils, hand-ground spices and people gathering for a shared meal—became part of my earliest relationship with food.
Perhaps that is where the fascination began.
A CINEMATIC MEMORY JOURNEY
Seven chapters. One feeling.
No portrait can tell this story as honestly as its objects, aromas and shared meals.
THE BICYCLE
Perhaps the journey into food started on the back of that bicycle.
When Nana ji travelled to cook, a child would sometimes sit on his bicycle and go with him. The village road, the cooking fires and the large vessels became part of the memory.
THE SIL-BATTA
Before premixes, there was patience.
Masale packets mein nahi, sil-batte par taiyaar hote the. Whole spices, tej patta, jeera and coriander seeds were prepared simply—not displayed in dozens, but used with an experienced hand.
THE PATTAL
People sat together. Hospitality was personal.
Wedding guests ate together on pattal plates. The menu was modest, the serving generous and the meal shared as a community.
TEJE HALWAI
Tejpal Singh of Buwana Lakhu.
His name was Tejpal Singh, though people in and around the village knew him warmly as “Teje Halwai.” His food was remembered for taste, simplicity and the heart with which it was prepared.
THE AROMA
His food announced itself before anyone reached the kitchen.
In the village, the remembered expression was simple: “Teje ka khana ban raha hai.” Not an archived quotation, but the way that memory still feels—the aroma travelled and people recognised the cooking.
THE PURSUIT CONTINUES
Some flavours may never be recreated exactly.
Even today, the founder feels Nana ji’s exact taste has not been recreated. Perhaps that is why the search continues—with humility, patience and respect for that unforgettable simplicity.
THE IMPOSSIBLE BENCHMARK
THE TASTE I AM STILL CHASING.
“To this day, I have not been able to recreate exactly what my Nana ji made. I remember the food, the aroma and the simplicity. But some tastes belong to a person, a time and a pair of hands. We can only keep trying.”
“SOME FLAVOURS CANNOT BE COPIED.
THEY CAN ONLY BE CHASED.”
That effort is still alive at Murthal Dhaba 90s.
WHY THE 90s?
For us, the 90s are not a decoration.
They are a memory.
The era is connected to some of our earliest food memories: a bicycle ride with Nana ji, a village wedding, masala on a sil-batta, food served on pattal, a simple menu and a taste that stayed for decades.
We do not claim that today’s menu is a collection of Nana ji’s exact recipes. Murthal Dhaba 90s is different in scale, menu and setting. The connection is the emotional standard: food made with patience, served generously and offered with heart.
01100% Pure Veg food02Generous serving03Family hospitality04Honest flavour05Food worth remembering
FROM MEMORY TO TODAY
The kitchen changed.
The aspiration stayed.
The recipes evolved and the scale changed. The aim remains simple: food should feel made with heart.
The memory
BicycleSil-battaPattalHalwai kadaiLanternSimple wedding foodMurthal Dhaba 90s
TandoorLoaded parantha & white makhanFamily diningModern kitchen disciplineAC hall & buffetHighway hospitalityREAD THE FULL STORYOpen the long-form memory ↓
Before Murthal Dhaba 90s was a brand, there was a bicycle, a village in Haryana, and a halwai everyone called Teje.
In the 1990s, much of my childhood was spent at my Nana ji’s home in Buwana Lakhu, Haryana. His name was Tejpal Singh, though across the village he was known simply as “Teje Halwai.” He travelled from village to village to cook for weddings and community gatherings—and I would often go with him, sitting on his bicycle as we travelled towards another village, another kitchen, another shared meal.
Weddings then were different. There were no enormous spreads or theatrical plating. There might be boondi ke laddoo, pethe ki sabzi, aloo ki sabzi, poori and simple white barfi. The list was short. The work behind it was not.
Masalas were prepared by hand. Spices were ground on a sil-batta. Large kadhais cooked slowly. Guests sat together and ate from pattal. Those few dishes created memories that lasted for decades.
People remembered Nana ji’s food by its aroma. Someone might say, in the language of village memory, “Teje ka bana hua khana hai.” There were no complicated sauces—only knowledge, patience, fresh masala and an extraordinary sense of care.
Even today, I have not been able to reproduce exactly what Nana ji made. Perhaps some flavours belong to a person, their hands, their time and the people sitting around them. They cannot be copied completely. But the effort continues.
Murthal Dhaba 90s does not try to recreate the past exactly. It tries to keep alive what the past taught us: food does not become memorable because the menu is long. It becomes memorable when people can feel something in it. That is the flavour we are still chasing.
THE MEMORY, CARRIED FORWARD
The exact taste may remain out of reach.
The pursuit continues.
Some recipes are written on paper. Some are remembered by the heart.
We are still chasing the taste Teje Halwai left behind.