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The Monsoon Pakora Sandwich
Where childhood 4pm cravings, three kinds of pakoras and one very iconic Bombay sandwich finally meet.
Pakora Sandwich
It wasn’t too long ago. Okay, who am I kidding — it was at least twenty years back, when I was still in school, that the 4pm hunger used to hit exactly the way it hits today. Caffeine cut off past noon, sugar cravings rising right on schedule, body demanding something, anything, immediately. I was young, metabolism running hot, and without fail I’d eat something on the way back from school. The other obsession I never quite got over from that era was the chutney sandwich — but more on that legend another day.
People love to joke about how carb-obsessed Indian food is, but that’s a fairly lazy generalisation when you actually look around the world. America has fries on everything that hasn’t changed till date. The UK has fish and chips as a national identity. Every culture has its own carb language — ours just happens to come fried, golden and fragrant with spice, especially the moment monsoon arrives.
Why Hot Snacks Win in Monsoon
Growing up in Bombay, street food generally took a backseat during the rains — the cold stuff especially, given how spread bacteria and waterborne illness become genuine concerns when things sit out in the open. People get understandably cautious. But hot snacks, and specifically hot, slightly indulgent snacks, come out in absolute hoards the second the temperature drops. It’s cooler, the mood shifts, and there’s something about a relentless monsoon deluge that is conducive to wanting a dopamine hit in the form of something fried.
I’ll call this unhealthy for lack of a better word, though that’s rarely the actual concern when a pakora is involved. You will very rarely find me turning one down, let alone the dish I’m about to walk you through.
The Pakora Hierarchy at Home
In our house, pakoras came in several distinct forms, each with its own identity. There were moong dal ones, spicy and lentil crunch. There were the onion ones, which we always called bhajiyas, smooshed together in tender bites. And then there was pateeka — thin-sliced vegetables of pretty much any kind, onion, potato, eggplant, even bell pepper, dipped into a besan and spice batter and deep-fried until golden and properly crunchy. Usually eaten with ketchup or a spicy chutney, standing near the stove, impatient for them to cool enough to eat.
Given my long-documented love affair with the chutney sandwich, I started wondering one rainy afternoon why I’d never actually put pakoras inside one. So I did. And in the process I appear to have accidentally smashed together several great pieces of Bombay street food into a single, fairly unreasonable sandwich. This is not a day for calorie counting. This is a day for eating it while it’s hot.
What Went Into It
I used onion and potato pateeka pakoras, stuffed generously into soft white bread. The spread is green chutney whisked with hung curd — partly because both the pakora and the bread are inherently dry elements that need something to bring moisture and richness, and partly because the yogurt mellows the chutney’s sharpness into something creamier and more rounded.
Pickled onions go in next, specifically to spike the acidity and bring a hint of sweetness that gives the whole sandwich its own identity, rather than just tasting like a pakora wedged into bread. And then, because no Bombay sandwich today is complete without it, a generous topping of sev. A hint of chaat masala to finish. That’s it. You’re sorted for the day.
Monsoon Pakora Sandwich
Makes 2 sandwiches | Prep: 15 mins | Cook: 20 mins
For the Onion Pakora Patty
- 2 large onions, cut in round slices
- ¾ cup besan
- 2 tbsp rice flour (for extra crispness)
- 1 green chilli, finely chopped
- 1 tsp grated ginger
- 2 tbsp chopped coriander
- 8–10 curry leaves, finely sliced
- ½ tsp ajwain
- ½ tsp cumin seeds
- ¼ tsp turmeric
- ½ tsp Kashmiri chilli powder
- Salt to taste
- 2–3 tbsp water, only if needed
- Oil for frying
For the Green Chutney Spread
- ¼ cup hung yoghurt
- Green chutney
To Assemble
- 4 slices soft white bread or milk bread
- Butter
- Pakora patties
- Green chutney spread
- Pickled onions
Finishing Touches
- Thin sev
- Fresh coriander
- A sprinkle of chaat masala
Method
Step 1 — Make the Batter Mix all the pakora batter ingredients together with just enough water to form a thick, coating consistency.
Step 2 — Fry the Pakoras Dip the onion slices into the batter and deep fry until golden brown and crisp. Drain and set aside.
Step 3 — Make the Chutney Spread Whisk the hung yoghurt and green chutney together until smooth and well combined.
Step 4 — Assemble Butter the outside of each bread slice. Spread the chutney mixture generously on the inside. Place the crispy pakoras on one slice, top with pickled onions and a tiny pinch of chaat masala, then close the sandwich.
Step 5 — Toast Toast the sandwich on a pan with a little butter until golden and crisp on both sides.
Step 6 — Finish Top with sev and fresh coriander immediately before serving.
Notes
- Fry the pakoras just before assembling — they lose their crunch quickly once they sit
- Hung curd can be swapped for thick Greek yoghurt if that’s what you have on hand
- The pickled onions are doing real work here — don’t skip them for the acidity they bring
- This scales well for a monsoon evening with people over — fry a big batch of pakoras and let people build their own
This is not a sandwich for someone counting calories. It’s a sandwich for someone standing at a window watching the rain, wondering what to eat next. Make it while it’s hot, eat it while it’s hotter.
Nikhil Merchant
Hospitality Writer | Culinary & Bar Consultant | Restaurateur | Brand Evangelist