Ilford Lane Shopping

The cheapest way to have a holiday in India is to get in your car and drive twenty minutes to Ilford Lane. Ilford Lane in East London is one of those areas that has been totally taken over and transformed into a mini-India. A long road full of all kinds of shops that you would normally see walking down the street in Dadar – Ilford Lane is THE place to buy anything from biriyani to overpriced saris to DVDs of movies nobody knows about.

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There are distinct differences between going “Indian shopping” and going for a standard weekly shopping. A normal shopping session for me would include a neatly written list of everything that needs to be bought (mainly food) followed by a maximum 1-hour shopping trip to Sainsbury’s/Tesco’s (or if I’m really feeling rich then Marks & Spencer). Everything is neatly organised in their respective aisles that it’s near impossible to spend too much time shopping or miss anything. It’s easy, it’s straightforward, it’s seamless. Indian shopping is the polar opposite to this process, think of it as more of an event rather than a simple shopping trip.

I’m sure there is at least one other person reading this who recalls trips to Ilford Lane or some other Indian area in London with their parents on a Thursday evening. Being dragged around at least 5 shops so their aai can buy a lifetime supply of spices, watching their baba haggle with a man over the price of a bunch of cassette tapes and begging to be allowed to buy that one leftover can of “Mirinda” that they otherwise only ever see in India. Ilford Lane is not the most well-known Indian Shopping area in London though, normally it’s Green Street or the famous “Southall”, even East Ham but Ilford Lane is by far the safest driving-wise. That’s another thing with Indian shopping, any Indian area in London – people driving seem to think they are actually in India and suddenly forget how to drive in lanes, skip red lights, and actually beep their horns. I don’t think I’ve ever beeped my car horn in my life but that’s also because I haven’t driven to Ilford Lane myself, I don’t trust the roads enough to go alone. If you haven’t been to Ilford Lane but would love to visit India, think of this blog as a guide to what you should do when you land here.

Before we get into the actual shops, I cannot stress how important it is to come early and FIND PARKING. As with any areas like these, there is no parking so at least 30 minutes will be spent driving in circles to find a parking space only for some random uncle to speed in out of nowhere and take it from you. Come early.

Quality Foods

The centre of Ilford Lane is “Quality Foods”. If you are looking for vegetables exclusively from India, from outer space, from underwater, from fairy-tale books etc. then you have come to the right place. I am totally sure that there are vegetables in this shop that haven’t been discovered by scientists in the west yet but somehow there is always somebody walking into this shop confidently grabbing a bag and scooping up at least fifty of them to take home and make into some sort of monstrous bhaaji.

The vegetables are all displayed outside in true Indian shop fashion and not only are there massive mountains of them, but they are all absolutely massive. I didn’t think there were onions the size of my face but apparently Quality Foods has managed to grow them.

Any time there is a festival coming up, the staff also keep home decorations, diyas etc. with the vegetables. I’m not sure why these aren’t kept in the aisle with disposable cutlery or oil but as you walk through the vegetable mountains, nestled next to the giant watermelons you will come across boxes of bangles, dandiyas and cheap bindis. I don’t recommend buying these as they probably smell of dhaniya. Unless you are into that in which case buy four for £1.

Not only will you find giant sized vegetables in this section of the shop, but you will also realise the vegetables are given names you have never heard of. I still don’t have a clue what a Papdi Valor or an Indian Carrot is but apparently everybody else in Quality Foods does. The best bit about shopping here is the music. I’ll find myself walking past to the rice aisle and suddenly I’ll hear Diljit Dosanjh yelling “Edda nai shukahaa shaddi DA…HAAAAAAAAN PATIAAALAAAA PEG LAAAAA SHADDI DAAAAAAA” at me. Definitely alarming. But at the same time I can’t help but skip along and shoulder pop my way to my favourite aisle of all – the one with the bags of spices; and I don’t mean little flimsy packets of spices like you get in Sainsbury’s; I’m talking about industrial family size bags of kasoori methi. I’m talking about actual 10kg sacks of haldi. Walking down this aisle is like jumping into a Natco/TRS commercial.

It always beggars the question: why would any human being need to buy such huge quantities of spices? But then again, we Indians drown our food in as many spices as possible so when you think of things in that context these sizes are totally justifiable. However, I will never understand why anybody would want to buy massive bags of chilli flakes. That is definitely something that needs to be looked into; I’m a jeera-chi fodni person, chilli is hazardous.

Continuing through the shop you will come across many more aisles selling cholesterol-laden snacks, instant Git’s upma and dosa packets, and another weird aisle that sells cooking utensils and steel utensils. Everything from steel cups to giant steel bowls for I don’t know what, can be found down this aisle, but nobody ever buys anything from it.

Nevertheless, past the Vatika hair oil and chilli sauce section we come to a little corner of the fridge section where they sell Limca and Thumbs Up. Even if I’m not ten years old anymore,

I still get excited about seeing these because they cannot be found anywhere else in London. These exclusive and classy Indian drinks make me feel like I’m a Bollywood star, so I always buy at least one. Walking out of that store and popping the cap off a bottle makes me feel like Akshay Kumar from the Thumbs Up commercial.

Annoyingly after an hour of travelling through Quality Foods it’s time to leave and I have to heave my trolley to the aunty-cashiers. I love to analyse staff and the cashiers at Quality Foods always have/do the following:

• They are always called Khadija/Sapna/Fatima and wear 99p red/pink nail polish

• They never. Ever. Speak English. If they speak English, then you are in a fake Indian shop

• They always break the register and ask their friend Haleema to fix it while you are waiting to pay the bill

• They have the best fashion sense in the world. Masaba Gupta has nothing on Khadija from Ilford Lane

Anand Paan Centre

The only Paan shop you need to know about in London. Anand Paan Centre is right next to Quality Foods and is a meeting point/hangout for anybody who even remotely likes paan.

It’s also a great hangout/meeting point for uncles who want to catch up over a cigarette outside in their leather jackets. A perfect setting for pretending to be a Mumbai gangster.

For some reason the inside of the shop is totally covered in pictures of Bollywood actors especially Shah Rukh Khan. Must be some sort of secret celebrity hotspot too. The shelves on the wall have piles of “Stardust” magazines on them, I used to buy these when I was younger and cut out pictures of Hrithik Roshan in his sunglasses or Juhi Chawla in a neon pink frilly dress and stick them on my bedroom walls. The paan itself is fantastic, still unsure what the Paan man’s name is but it’s always fascinating watching him sprinkle different herbs and bits into these bright green leaves and roll them up into perfect little squashy packages.

Not only does this place sell paan and Stardust gossip magazines but outside there’s always a little “magic corn”/sugarcane juice stall. I think this is just for style and to draw in children so their parents will be tempted to buy more paan.

Anand Paan Centre was one of the first paan stores I remember from this area growing up, but slowly and surely there are more popping up like “Bombay Paan Centre”; featuring upgraded outside stalls of gola and pani puri. I’d recommend sticking to Anand Paan Centre if you’re about quality though. You never know with the new ones.

Noori Halal Butchers

We’ve always bought halal meat. There’s nothing wrong with store-bought meat of course but once somebody gets used to halal meat, they can smell the blood on supermarket meat. As much as I love chicken nuggets and steak, I prefer minimal blood content possible, so I forget it’s actually from a dead animal. I don’t know when this became a thing but the halal butcher’s not only sell meat, but also little bowls of fruit casually displayed outside the shop from morning until night. Only in Ilford Lane.

Walking into this place is like walking into Hannibal Lecter’s fridge. You will find anything you want – ribs, minced meat, sheep’s eyeball, a whole goat, you name it. The butchers themselves are the perfect example of “never judge a book by it’s cover”. They are all obviously butchers but that’s just their day job. I have always been sure these Genghis Khan lookalikes are ninja warriors by night judging by the way I see them chop and slice at the meat. In reality however, they are respectful, and totally normal human beings who get the job done and keep the place sparkling clean. I wouldn’t expect anything less from a butchers, but you would be surprised how many other places selling meat don’t take pride in this.

Nirala

It’s impossible to come to Ilford Lane and not pop into Nirala, a mithai shop that sells every mithai in every single colour known to man. There are probably hundreds of sweets on display at this shop.

Unfortunately they are behind a thick glass screen so don’t go lunging head-first at them if you visit, just marvel at everything from those pink balls covered in coconut shavings to yellow squares. Generally, there’s always a queue in this place, especially during festive periods and it’s always aajis. I’m not sure they should really be allowed here since one sweet can set off type 10 diabetes but nevertheless, they still buy boxes of the stuff.

Now I am totally sure that each of these sweets taste incredible, but my staunch recommendation is to forget all of them. Ignore all of them apart from one. The white peda. This little ball of creamy goodness is so special that it has its own little section away from the multi-coloured riffraff sweets. When I was little, I suffered with an addiction to the yellow peda, delicious of course but that was at a time when I didn’t know the white peda existed. When I first walked into Nirala and laid my eyes on it, I knew it was mine, that it was only made for me, that we were meant for each other. So if you REALLY want to impress that couple who’s housewarming party you are going to, don’t buy them some sticky cracked pile of jilbi, buy them a box of these and they will love you forever. A lot of you may be wondering why I haven’t bothered to mention anything about kaju rolls. My loyalty goes towards kaju rolls over white pedas every single time, but the sad truth is that I haven’t found a single place that sell kaju rolls better than the ones I have tasted in India. So, when in London just stick to white pedas. You won’t be disappointed.

Bombay Looks

Any time anybody comes out of this store it’s always with a glossy “Bombay Looks” bag filled with everything needed to transform yourself from ordinary brown girl into a diamond encrusted extra from Devdas,

or to transform you from basic kaku into modern kaku like Sushmita Sen from Main Hoon Na. This little gem on Ilford Lane is full of the most gorgeous saris I’ve seen. Forget saris, their jewellery is what sticks out the most. They have everything from over the top dangly bangles to bindis shaped like little peacocks. You know, the ones gori girls wear at techno festivals. Except we wear them at our cousin’s birthday/when we wake up. Every single suit I own comes from this store and it’s the only time I actually shop for clothes that are not black.

That’s the thing I love about ethnic wear – the random colour combinations you wouldn’t be caught dead in if they were on suits/casual clothes somehow work for sarees, lehengas and curly slippers. Unfortunately for ourselves this pandemic has prevented us from having occasions to wear these snazzy sparkly suits, although I’m getting really close to wearing my suits around the house and to attend work Zoom meetings. The great thing about this store is their in-built kaka who sits at the back with his sewing machine and takes orders for alterations on blouses – Bobby uncle.

Bobby uncle like our Noori halal butchers always gets the job done right. Too many times have I had alterations to sari blouses done and then tried them on realising my back fat won’t squeeze into it. Bobby uncle doesn’t let any of that crap happen. Be like Bobby uncle.

All in all, these are the only places you need to visit when you go to Ilford Lane. While I do love popping to the shop down the road for some basic food, nothing will ever compare to Indian shopping, and not only that but Sainsbury’s and Tesco will never start selling 60kg bags of Tilda basmati rice or paan. You definitely do get most things needed for Maharashtrian cooking from these Ilford Lane shops but anything hardcore Maharashtrian you somehow only get in the South Indian shops. I had no idea Maharashtrians were considered to be South Indian here but hey, you learn something new every day. For years my aai and I were told legends of being able to buy kelphul (banana flower) but we just couldn’t find it anywhere. Until we came across a tiny South Indian store near the end of Ilford Lane that sold not only kelphul but also lifetime supplies of germinated birdha lentils and frozen pomfret. It was at this moment that we knew we would never go hungry again. The beauty of Ilford Lane is the value for money, there isn’t a single UK supermarket that sells green chillies by the tonne. But more than that it’s about experiencing a little bit of home without having to shove a swab up your nose, prove your Covid-clear status to airport staff and haul yourself onto a plane.

*If you manage to miraculously find parking nearby, do NOT take any chance of getting back to your car with your boxes of pedas/bhendi past your ticket time. The ticket inspectors in Ilford Lane will literally wait by your car until 1 minute has passed by your ticket time and then fine you £50. I’ve done it. My advice would be to park even further away or cheekily park in someone’s driveway. I’ve done that too.

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4)Let me know if you want any sari blouse stitching alterations done, I’ll make sure Bobby uncle gives you a good deal

5)Ask me if I need anything before you go to Ilford Lane, k thanks.

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