How a 60-year-old food street became Srinagar’s most resilient small business cluster

Srinagar, Feb 22: In the middle of Lal Chowk, surrounded by branded stores and rising commercial rents, a narrow food lane continues to run on an old-fashioned business principle: sell affordable food, earn trust, and never compromise on consistency. Known locally as Rice Street or Batte Gali, the area has quietly sustained a profitable cluster of small food businesses for more than six decades.

What began in the 1960s as a few wooden stalls with tin roofs has evolved into a tightly knit micro-economy supporting dozens of families. No signboards are promising “authentic experiences,” no delivery discounts, and no social media campaigns. Yet the footfall rarely dips.

“This place runs on repeat customers,” says Yasir Dharma, a third-generation vendor who heads the local food street association. “People don’t come here because of marketing. They come because they’ve been eating here for years—and they trust us.”

From a business standpoint, the model is deceptively simple. Vendors keep menus limited, costs low and turnover high. Located just off the Clock Tower, the street benefits from continuous pedestrian traffic—office employees at lunch, traders in the afternoon, and shoppers by evening. “Even on slow days, you sell enough to survive,” a vendor says.

“On good days, you make up for the rest of the week.”

Unlike many food hubs where competition drives prices down, vendors here operate more like a collective. “We don’t undercut each other,” Yasir explains. “If one stall is crowded, another helps. If someone is short on supplies, others step in. We all depend on the street doing well.”

That cooperation has helped the businesses weather disruptions. When bus and taxi stands were moved away from the city centre, sales initially dipped. “We thought business would collapse,” recalls one long-time vendor. “Instead, we adjusted. We focused more on walk-in customers and regulars.”

When public concerns emerged around meat quality in local markets, vendors responded by expanding vegetarian options. “People assume our food is only about meat,” Yasir says. “But what matters is how it’s cooked. Even vegetable dishes sell because people trust the kitchen.”

Despite operating largely in the informal sector, the economic impact is visible. The street generates steady employment for cooks, helpers and suppliers, while drawing daily crowds that benefit nearby shops in Lal Chowk. Urban planners may overlook such spaces, but traders argue their value is underestimated.

“We don’t ask for much,” says Yasir. “Better drainage, proper lighting, cleaner lanes—that’s enough. We don’t want to become a food court.”

As Srinagar continues to modernise, the future of such traditional business clusters remains uncertain. But vendors here are confident their model still works. “Big restaurants open and shut,” a senior stall owner says. “We’ve survived sixty years. That should say something.”

In an age obsessed with rapid expansion and branding, this food street tells a quieter business story—one built on patience, cooperation and customers who keep coming back, year after year.

By: Adeela Qayoom