KATHMANDU: Those who once walked along the Bagmati River, troubled by its stench, are now enchanted by the irresistible aroma of sekuwa (grilled meat).

In Kathmandu, the Bagmati River flows south from beneath Tinkune Bridge, acting as a natural boundary between Koteshwor and Shankhamul. Nestled in between is Dobhan Bridge.

No matter which side of Dobhan Bridge you choose—right or left—you’ll find numerous ‘sekuwa’ spots just steps away. Places like Hardik Restaurant and Sekuwa Corner, Thelaghar, Sheel, Bua, Nadighar Sekuwa, MR Sekuwa, Sagarmatha Mo:Mo and Sekuwa, Jhir, and many more.

Only a few years ago, much of this now-bustling corridor was deserted. Dobhan Bridge also divides administrative wards: Ward No. 31 lies on one side in Shankhamul, while Ward No. 32 borders the other. According to 77-year-old Jhapat Bohara from Ward No. 32, Sahaynagar, the area once saw daytime robberies.

Bohara, chairman of the Shanti Tole Sudhar Samit), recalls, “We opened the road through a collective initiative by gathering donations, which is why we named it Janata Path. The river’s stench was so overwhelming, walking along it was unbearable. But after the road was built, the river gradually began to clean up. I never imagined this place would one day become a hub for eateries.”

One of the pioneers in selling food, especially sekuwa, here is Om Bahadur Singh Thakuri. Since 2015, he has been running Hardik Sekuwa & Restaurant near Dobhan Bridge.

When Thakuri first opened shop near the entry of Dobhan Bridge, the corridor was far from bustling. The place was deserted, and the stench unbearable. “People would look up and down the hills, and no one lived on the riverbank except squatters,” he says.

“But I had heard about plans to build a corridor from Balkhu to Bhaktapur. I chose this spot hoping it would flourish in the future, despite how it looked then.”

Thakuri shares that the site of his restaurant used to be a pond. Some even joked he should call it a fish market—or rather, not a fish market.

But he was firm in his vision: he would sell fish here. Originally from Mahottari and Bardibas, Om worked at Club Himalaya in Nagarkot before the earthquake. He recalls, “When I went to eat fish in Talchhikhel, every table was full. I thought if I quit my job, I’d probably end up selling fish!”

After the earthquake, circumstances pushed him to start his own business. “The oldest eateries around Koteshwor are Rai Budha’s Sekuwa and Royal Dharane. Then I started here. At that time, there was only one trendy hotel nearby that served rice,” he explains.

In his first week, he earned Rs 15-20 thousand, and his business grew to make as much as Rs 125,000 a day.

Thakuri shares that the site of his restaurant used to be a pond. Some even joked he should call it a fish market—or rather, not a fish market.

While the corridor now buzzes with activity, opening a restaurant here in the early days was a risk. Among those who took that leap is Anita Bhattarai, owner of Thelaghar.

“Sometimes, there was a fear of being robbed. People were even afraid to walk at night,” says Bhattarai.

Like Hardik’s Thakuri, Bhattarai faced plenty of discouragement when she decided to open a restaurant by the riverbank. Her stall, now located on the route from Dobhan Bridge to Balkumari Bridge along the Manohara River, was previously near the road to Vishwa Niketan School.

Bhattarai recalls, “The place where we wanted to open the restaurant was filled with garbage. People told me I was just pouring money into trash. Even though there was some activity near the bridge, our stall was tucked away in a corner. People were so scared to walk along the riverbank that they called it a place where people would be killed and thrown away.”

Bhattarai started the stall aiming to serve fast food with a focus on healthy snacks, selling items like chops, pakodas, and momos. But within two months, the COVID pandemic struck. Once things settled, she expanded the menu to include a snack bar, and customers flocked to try the sekuwa. “We sold pan sekuwa because roasted sekuwa wasn’t hygienic, and it became very popular,” she says.

After moving the stall to its current location, Bhattarai switched to cooking sekuwa over an open fire instead of on a pan. Despite the move, customer numbers have only increased. She believes sekuwa is becoming as popular as momos in Kathmandu.

Similar to the Bagmati Corridor, the Dhobikhola Corridor has many restaurants specializing in sekuwa. Popular spots include ‘Tareba Sekuwa Corner’ near the Yellow Bridge, ‘Jhir’ by Ratopul, ‘Raap’ near Setopul, and ‘Sungabha Sekuwa Corner’.

Rajesh Shrestha, owner of Raap, has been in the restaurant business for two decades. Having worked as a waiter, captain, and manager across three different restaurants, he says the sekuwa “trend” in the Kathmandu Valley has surged in the past three years.

Recognizing this, Shrestha, who owns two other restaurants selling tandoori dishes and burgers, recently opened Sekuwa Corner. He’s pleased with the steady flow of customers at his Setopul location.

There was a time when only the dry sekuwa from Jhir was available in Kathmandu. But recently, the trend has shifted toward sekuwa roasted on both sides in a clay oven, gaining popularity across the city.

Meanwhile, the experience of the owner of ‘Chincha Piro’ also reflects the new trend of sekuwa. Opened three years ago on the banks of the Sinamangal River, ‘Chincha Piro’ initially focused on fast food and biryani but struggled to attract enough customers. Then, the owner added Jhir sekuwa, but that didn’t take off either. Since last February, they opened a tea house called ‘Priya Chiya’ behind the restaurant and soon added sekuwa to the menu.

“When I opened the tea house, I planned to add a furnace for making sekuwa, so I took a new space. After adding tea and Sekuwa, now I don’t have to worry about customers,” he says.

According to him, the tea and sekuwa customer bases are quite different—tea mostly attracts college and hostel students, while sekuwa draws in adults engaged in jobs and business.

The corridor connecting the four cities of Kathmandu, Bhaktapur, Lalitpur, and Kirtipur has become a popular alternative route to avoid the Valley’s main road traffic jams. Whether traveling from Gokarna to Balkhu or from Kirtipur to Pepsi Cola, many prefer this corridor, leading to occasional traffic congestion.

Easy parking is another advantage. Operators say many sekuwa corners get crowded in the evenings with people returning from work. Most open from 8 am and close around 11 pm, selling tea, coffee, snacks, and food until 1 pm. Sekuwa roasting typically begins after 1 pm, attracting most customers during the evening commute.

Sekuwa customers fall into two categories: those who eat sekuwa alone, and those who enjoy it with alcohol. Likewise, some sekuwa corners sell alcohol at the maximum retail price (MRP), while others offer it at menu prices.

Regardless of price, almost all sekuwa spots in the corridor fill up on Friday evenings. When asked about their busiest day, operators unanimously say — Friday.

While all sell sekuwa, there’s variety in what’s offered. Some specialize in chicken sekuwa, others serve goat, pig, boar, or cow. Pork sekuwa seems to be the most popular.

Bhattarai, who runs a stall, says they sell five to seven kilograms of sekuwa daily on average. Thakuri of Hardik sells over 10 kilograms on Fridays and Saturdays.

Each sekuwa vendor brings their own style, strategy, and philosophy to the business. Shrestha of Raap says, “We make juicy, flavorful sekuwa cooked in a traditional jhiram (clay oven). Customers love it.”

Chincha Piro, meanwhile, sells chicken sekuwa at Rs 850 per kilogram, discounted from the usual Rs 1,000.

Most owners understand that once customers like the taste, they’ll return seeking the same experience. They have hired experienced chefs and cooks accordingly and place importance on sourcing quality meat.

Bhattarai, who is also a painter, says customers keep coming back due to both the stall’s ambience and healthy food. Bhattarai buys goat meat from a 40-year-old butcher shop and employs a cook with two decades of experience roasting sekuwa. Similarly, Hardika Thakuri says the pork sekuwa at Hardik is popular because of its authentic taste. “I’ve been sourcing pork from Talchhikhel since the beginning. Customers say they come back for that familiar flavor,” she adds.

Restaurant owners are clearly focused not only on selling sekuwa but on ensuring its quality, taste, and a welcoming environment. This is what draws travelers along the corridor to sekuwa corners repeatedly.

One reason is the corridor’s atmosphere — cool breezes in summer, warm sunshine in winter, a brief respite close to nature away from smoke, dust, and traffic jams. Add to that the irresistible aroma of sekuwa wafting through the air, stirring appetites. It’s no wonder sekuwa is becoming the new must-have trend!