Oh Calcutta! was one of the first restaurants that I began to visit often as I became increasingly enamored with Indian food. Their menu generally consisted of the standard repertoire offered at very affordable prices — which for me, was a bonus during my student days! Their location was convenient and the food remained quite consistent for many years. As far as I was concerned, their dishes formed the baseline that I expected other restaurants to measure up to. However, I was still impressionable, and had much to learn.

It was at Oh Calcutta! where I first tried puri. I still remember seeing the waiter bringing that first order to our table. I couldn’t believe what I was seeing. It was like fried dough on steroids! And once I tasted it, I became instantly fixated on this unique bread which puffed up like a small pillow. It quickly became a khojana of its own in my cooking adventures, which lead to some interesting results!

Of course I also tended to my primary obsession and appraised their vindaloo — several times. While I remember they created a reasonably potent version, it did not register on my developing heat intensity scale. Vegetable Pakoras, however, most certainly hit the spot. They were a favorite starter and I thought they were every bit as good as the ones from Indian Quality Restaurant across the river. Curiously, I don’t remember anything notable about the onion chutney; which was another one of my unrelenting preoccupations.

a bit of history

Oh Calcutta! opened up in the spring of 1983 at 468 Massachusetts Ave in Central Square Cambridge; an area that would become home to several Indian restaurants by the late-1980s. A substantial review in the Boston Phoenix that ran shortly after they opened described the restaurant as I remember it at the time, including the incredibly affordable prices. Pakoras $1.25; Chicken Saag $4.90; Poori $1.00! On the Thursday night of the review, all the tables in the small restaurant were filled; again how I recall it. We learn that the owner hailed from New Delhi, and his first name is Ascharj — a name he conveyed to a chicken dish on the menu.¹

A contemporaneous review in the Boston Globe discloses his last name, Jaggi, and adds that he was also the “principal chef.”² Digging a bit deeper, we find that Jaggi turns up in a Bizapedia search as the President of the Asbj Corporation adding Singh as his middle name with the principal address at 468 Massachusetts Ave, in Cambridge.³

On my first trip to Oh Calcutta!, I remember that while we were not able to order beer, we were allowed to bring our own (in a brown bag). I had never heard of such an arrangement, but as it turns out the restaurant did not have a liquor license, so they permitted this as a compromise. I seem to remember a few other restaurants also allowed this practice and later heard about some Chinese restaurants where you could order “cold tea.” As it turns out, Jaggi was interested in serving alcohol. A few years later, he unsuccessfully applied for a liquor license from the City of Cambridge.⁴

Jaggi turns out to have been quite enterprising. A 1989 review in the Boston Globe noted that he also was running restaurants in Framingham and Salem with plans for one in downtown Boston. His Salem location, sporting the Oh Calcutta! moniker, was located in a prime downtown location; an area especially busy each October. In 1995, the Globe also ran a short review of the Framingham location which had been renamed Rasoi by this time. Unlike the Cambridge flagship, both his suburban locations were able to offer alcohol; which was duly noted by the reviewers.

However, there are a few interesting twists to this story. First, in the handful of newspaper clippings I found, Jaggi seemed to go by different first names: Ascharj, Bob or Ranbir “Paul.” Perhaps to westernize? While that seems unnecessary in Cambridge, it may have been helpful for his suburban locations. It appears, though, that Ascharj Singh Jaggi was probably his legal name since it is the one used in his several Bizapedia entries. But the plot thickens…

A 1998 article about ethnic food from the Boston Globe leads off: “In the 1980s, Ranbir S. “Paul” Jaggi ran a chain of five local Indian restaurants by day.” The article goes on to explain that on the side, he had been developing a plan to package and market some of the best dishes from Oh Calcutta! to gourmet markets around the area. The next few paragraphs recount how had he sold his restaurant chain in 1991 so that he could start an ethnic food company named Taj Ethnic Gourmet Foods, Inc.⁵ The article features a large photo of him with a few samples of his frozen dinner line which may look familiar. I certainly remember seeing some of them in my local markets, but I had no idea who was behind them!

through the hazy lens of time

While I thought that Oh Calcutta’s food was very good at the time, in hindsight I think I would likely find most of their menu just average today. Back then, though, their dishes had the taste that I had come to crave and more often than not completely satisfied my expectations. By the mid-nineties, however, I felt that they started to become less consistent. This may have been a result of the change of the principal chef (or owner — Jaggi had been both), though I was unaware of those changes at the time. Possibly they began cutting corners due to the pressure of competing with several area restaurants, including Indian Globe, which was located just two doors away. Slowly, I became less motivated to go there for dinner, and eventually they closed, to be replaced by a convenience store. However, fond memories linger.

One night I ordered a side of dal that hit all the right spots. That small bowl became the standard I compared others to for a long time. I think in the back my mind this might be the dal that I tried to model my own recipe after for awhile. I did not know what type of dal or spices they employed, but their recipe seemed quite different from the usual Mulligatawny or Dal Shorba from other menus. The broth appeared darker, and some of the dal had not completely dissolved. In retrospect, I think they may have used chana dal and am guessing that they might have added a bit of their base gravy for flavor and color. Interestingly, I never ordered it again, and I do not remember a dal from any other restaurant quite like this one.

One of the last times I ate at Oh Calcutta!, they had listed a Daily Special — which was a bit out of character for them. Although I don’t remember the name of the dish, I recall it being just OK, and exceedingly oily. Which is sadly how I remember the end of one of my favorite restaurants.

Footnotes

1. Robert Nadeau, “Oh Calcutta Don’t You Cry For Me”, Boston Phoenix, June 7 1983, Sec 2, 12 [↖︎]
2. Nathan Cobb, “Spices at Indian Restaurant Are Exotic, and Often Hot”, Boston Globe, June 16, 1983, A5 [↖︎]
3. Bizapedia, Bizapedia, Accessed: November 19, 2025 [↖︎]
4. Eric S. Solowey, “City Blocks Liquor, Fast Food” The Harvard Crimson, November 24, 1987, Accessed: November 19, 2025 [↖︎]
5. Chana R. Schoenberger, “Cuisines That Are Rich In Possibilities”, Boston Globe, September 30, 1998 [↖︎]