A spicy dish from Burma naturalised in Madras

Account subscription benefits alongside Premium Stories, Editorials, Opinions and more. Unlock these with Subscription

Abul Ajeez Atho Shop at Arrababu Street off Rajaji Salai in George Town. | Photo Credit: SPECIAL ARRANGEMENT

People marry into money. Adbul Rahman married into “Atho”. And the latter situation translates to money saved by the plates. “I have never had to pay for a plate of Atho after marriage,” Rahman chuckles.

Rahman is the son-in-law of Abdul Ajeez, whose eponymous Ajeez Atho Shop at Arrababu Street off Rajaji Salai in George Town has the effect of a speed governor on an environment geared to movement and bustle. The milling crowd on Rajaji Salai contrasts with the stationary, slurping crowd around Ajeez’s shop. Customers, their work bags slung over their shoulders, tuck into plates of Atho as if it were their comfort food.

Atho shops in this part of George Town present these two scenarios. Local residents “own” Atho as one would a home-grown dish, treating it as a gift from Madras; a good number of them are likely unaware of the Burma backstory. And those Indians who left Burma (now Myanmar) for Madras find that connection with the Burma of the past sustained through Atho’s popularity in this city. Through it, they also enjoy a sense of community among their own. Take these illustrations.

Abul Ajeez Atho Shop at Arrababu Street off Rajaji Salai in George Town. | Photo Credit: SPECIAL ARRANGEMENT

At Arrababu Street, Ajeez Atho Shop is at a vantage point enjoying clear visibility from Rajaji Salai but patronage does not derive entirely from that factor. Rahman observes that with Ajeez, selling Atho has never merely been a business. With parents having lived in Burma, and leaving it behind for India, specifically Madras, as repatriates following the coup d’etat in 1962, Ajeez views making and selling Atho as a bridge to his culture and people. This passion runs in the family. Rahman notes that his relatives operate similar Atho stalls in Trichy and Kutralam, further reinforcing food’s known status as a mark of culture and community.

Legacy food should have secret recipes. Rahman insists there is no secret recipe; the true craft lies entirely in the balance of mixing and proportion. The shop caters to every craving with its main varieties: vegetarian, fried, and egg Atho, each customised to individual spice tolerances. Crucially, vegetarian and non-vegetarian preparation areas are kept strictly separate, ensuring no one’s dietary preferences are compromised.

Ajeez operates from this spot for 20 years but has been in the Atho business for twice that number of years. After 40 years, he has found allies in his sons, Haider Ali and Yusaf. “On days my father-in-law is out of station or not well, his sons take care of the stall,” observes Rahman.

And Rahman points out he does not assist in the running of the shop, just content being an avid Atho taster. And also volunteering to be a spokesperson, as he did for this interview. Rahman points out the stall has appeared on several media platforms and attracted many VIPs who visit the stall during the less crowded hours.

Shahul Hameed is the boss, and he is 30 years old.