To market, to market

Suchitra Bajpai Chaudhary gets up, close and curious with
a 20-kg shark, breathes in the aroma of herbs, feasts her eyes on veggies ...

There are many Dubais within Dubai. One is characterised by gleaming skyscrapers, spectacular waterfront properties and eye-popping structures about which a lot has been written.

The other Dubai is equally eye candy. It is traditional, enjoys heritage status and holds the heady magic that can belong to something only like spice souqs and old bazaars. These places are also people magnets - for those who live here and those who wish they did.

Another Dubai (I told you there are many) is a conservationist's delight - with museums, heritage areas and traditional architectural zones which give visitors an unforgettable glimpse of the times gone by.

They also help people measure the quantum leap Dubai has taken. There is one more Dubai which wakes up eye-droopingly early in the morning and instantly turns into a beehive zone of activity.

A haunt for people looking for the freshest, the crispest, the shiniest, the juiciest, the tenderest ... you get the picture. This Dubai is for those who take food very seriously - chefs, cooks, restaurant owners, home keepers with food as their muse ...

It's a Dubai not many of us get to see much of as we spend our lives cruising for spots at supermarket parking lots and come away loaded with plastic bags stuffed with store-bought produce.

But if you do decide to give your senses a spin, drive down to the wholesale vegetable, fish and spice souqs and feel the salival rush.

I had heard much about the Deira fish market and Al Aweer fruit and vegetable market. I had driven past these markets and seen the hustle and bustle from afar but never thought of driving into the thick of it.

One weekend recently, I decided to do exactly that. (Back from the visit, I can warn you: it will in all probability turn you into a dedicated cook).

***

At 1 am, with most of Dubai asleep, I drove over to Deira (taking the Shindagha Tunnel route), took a U-turn at the first signal after the tunnel and then turned right ...

It was a pleasant night so I had rolled down the car windows to enjoy the cool night breeze ... and the breeze brought with it the news that I had arrived at the fish market. I had expected little activity but the place was like a beehive.

Hundreds of fishermen, scores of vans arriving with fresh hauls, noisy auctioneering, tidy rows of stall with tables groaning under the weight of fish, big, small, round, flat,
triangular, and other shapes I probably learnt in geometry class but paid no attention to.

Fish lovers will eat any amount of this stuff, fried, steamed, breadcrumbed, barbied, even raw. But squelching around the stalls in the fish market early in the morning is not the best way to think up appetising ways of cooking it.

That said, there are few better places than this in Dubai to feast your eyes on the staggering variety of fish. The fish of course don't talk but the traders do.

In a cacophony that is entirely engaging, you watch them trying to outbid each other, bargain, offload their lot for the best price, even as small glasses of tea wobble on a tray which glides through the air reaching parched throats and lubricating them for the next round of energetically articulated business deals.

Though it's an hour after midnight, the traders are wide awake. The place crackles with so much energy you almost start to think you could plug your iPod in the air and listen to your fav hits, accompanied of course by an industrial-strength fishy odour that will plug your nostrils as well.

People of all nationalities mill about as fish auctions are held in just about every available corner.

The boats that left early the previous evening from Jumeirah and Hamriya return in the wee hours of the morning.

As soon as the pick-ups with the day's catch burn rubber and reach the market, prospective bidders swarm around them like bees to honey. The fish is displayed in the hatch of the van and the bidding begins almost instantly.

A huge shark, weighing in at least 20 kg, is the first bait. After many bids and counter bids, it is sold for Dh200!
Sometimes the entire catch can fetch up to Dh400.

The fishermen who arrive early in the morning with their catch stand to gain because the buyers have no clue what the rest of the morning's catch will be like.

As more fish of a particular variety begins to arrive, the price for that variety begins to fall with availability.

If you are looking for fresh hammour, king fish, sherry, salmon, mackerel or seeking a bargain on prawns, squids and crabs, you ought to visit the Deira Fish Market.
Although this is a wholesale market that supplies fresh fish to practically all food outlets in Dubai - from the big hotels to the small seafood restaurants tucked away in the city's bylanes - you will also be able to buy your own share of fish for your humble needs.

Besides saving on dirhams, you are guaranteed an absolutely fresh catch. You quiver with delight because the fish are still quivering ...

Most of the traders, labourers, loaders and fishermen who work here are from the Subcontinent. Naushad Ali, 24, who was a mechanic in Kerala in southern India, sells hammour at one of the shops.

"Buy this fresh fish. Dh40 a kilo,'' he shouts out to me. While those around his stall are selling hammour for Dh30-Dh35 a kg, he deliberately quotes a higher price for it gives him room for light banter - something he relishes along with his early morning tea and biscuits that he is served from across the restaurant at the souk.

Mohammad Ali from Pakistan rolls in his bright green wheelbarrow full of sherri that Naushad has bought. Mohammad, who appears to be in his early sixties, refuses to reveal his age but tells us that he has seven children back home in Pakistan.

Fetching fish from the pick-ups and depositing these at the sales counters earns him Dh5 per trip. "I make about five trips per day,'' he says.

Nava Mani, 47, who hails from Kerala, arrived in Dubai 28 years ago. "I worked as a fisherman for many years before becoming a trader,'' he says. "I used to leave at 4 in the evening to fish in the sea around Hamriya and arrive here at 1 in the morning. Now I sell fish, but arrive at the market at 2am.''

Does he like his job?
"Oh, yes,'' he says. "I love everything about the fish market - the activity, the auctions, the people and, of course, the fish. But now the catch has declined over the years. There isn't much fish in the sea to be caught," he complains.

Mohammad Aslam, 50, from Bhawalpur, who is endearingly called Badu agrees with Mani. Aslam has been here for 25 years and feels there was a lot more fun to fish trading in the past. And yes, the fish hauls were better.

Altaf Abdul Hamid also from Bhawalpur, Pakistan, has been in the UAE for the last 19 years. "Fresh fish lands from Jumeirah, Hamriya, but that is not enough,'' he says.
"Additional catches come from Oman, Pakistan, Bangladesh and India.'' (But these are often not as fresh as the local catch.)

My friend who has purchased some fish takes it to the cleaning area which is a set a little distance away from the fish stalls.

The cleaning areas, a newly-constructed hall, is like an assembly-line action zone where an army of men in blue overalls, aprons and caps are busy chopping, cleaning and packing the fish for buyers.

The board at the centre displays the rates: Small fish (per kilo): Dh1.50; large fish (per kilo): Dh1.00
Prawns, cuttlefish and crabs (per kilo): Dh3.

My friend collects her cleaned fish parcel and it's time to head home. I can see her expression is already going dreamy as she scrolls in her mind to find the recipe for the day.

***

If a fish market is not your idea of a night out, make a trip to the fruit and vegetable Market at Al Aweer. Your eyes widen into saucers and your stomach begins to rumble as the sight of the fantastic spread of brightly coloured vegetables, lush cooking greens and jewel toned fruit takes their toll on your food fantasies.

As you walk down the aisles that seem like still life works of master artists, you wonder for a moment why you didn't think of the word 'Chef' when it was time to tick the career box.

Suddenly, all you can think of is recipe books, woks, aprons, cutting, chopping, the hiss of aromatic steam in your kitchen, your husband on stand by as you instruct him how to julienne and cube and puree ...

Cooking suddenly assumes the mantle of the most creative pursuit in the world. The colours, the shapes, the smells ...the sheer abundance! Red, yellow, orange and green bell peppers pose posh with dark green lady fingers.

Pink and white radish sit next to flaming orange carrots, artichokes like a Daliesque expression lean against each other in quiet arrogance next to wispy garlic greens and bunched asparagus.

Deep purple, shiny, plump abergines, long, thin, lavender-tinted brinjals, fat, pale green brinjals with white stripes, small baby eggplants like nature's monochrome Faberge eggs ...

Nature's Pantone chart of greens - parsley, lettuce, coriander, mustard greens, spinach, fenugreek, herbs, rocket, baby spinach, mixed greens ... so fresh, you feel like putting up a board 'Wet Paint'.

Shamshul Alam (above) who has been in the business for 25 years is thankful the market moved from Hamriya to Aweer. There is more space here and it is better organised, he says.

Greens, he says, come from Ras Al Khaimah, Sharjah, Dhaid, Al Ain and Oman, and he caters to both wholesale buyers as well as housewives looking for good bargains.

"Since the winter season seems to have extended a bit, you can still get parsley and spring onions for Dh3 for a dozen bunches and coriander at Dh5 for a dozen bunches. But in summer when the local supplies dry up, we are dependent on Egypt, Jordan and Syria and prices go up to Dh25 for a dozen bunches of parsley and other greens!"

Work at the market starts at 3am when long-distance vans arrive carrying fresh loads of vegetables shipped from across the Subcontinent. Traders have been dealing with the same wholesalers for years and their communication has by now been perfected.

Deals are struck in a flash, cargo offloaded, grocers get to work, going through the stuff, cleaning, making smaller bundles of greens and setting up their still life arrangements for the early morning buyers who begin streaming in by 5am.

Among the many home keepers who arrive here for good bargains every week is Chanchal Nanda who drives down from Emirates Hills.

"Once you've tasted the freshness of these vegetables and fruits, you can never go back to the supermarket. I love buying fruits here. Just take a look at these wonderful pears, the fresh cauliflowers and okra ... I insist on driving down here and sometimes run errands for my neighbours too."

Another advantage she says of coming to the Aweer wholesale market is that you spot some exotic tropical vegetables which are rare in supermarkets.

For example, fresh kasur that looks like a cross between a leafy green and yam. "I am told it is widely used in Bangladeshi cuisine and is often served as a side dish with beef preparations."

Abdul Rehman orders tender coconuts from Salalah once every three days! "It takes 20 hours for our driver to come down here but we get the authentic Omani coconut - so tender and so sweet. I sell them at Dh3 per fruit."

I walk past the mountains of pumpkins and bunches of bananas from India, watermelons and musk melons from Holland and Iran, okra, aubergines and spinach from Oman, Egypt and Jordan, apples and strawberries from US, Australia and Dhaid ... and feel like I've gone round the world in 80 minutes!