Now, the Sikhs have taken Hard Rock Cafe’s slogan to heart, and it’s not just a gimmick. Step into a gurdwara, a Sikh temple, and you’ll probably find a communal kitchen ready to serve you.
In this place it truly doesn’t matter if you’re black or white, Hindu, Christian, Muslim or Jew. The Sikhs receive all and they truly do serve all.

The most famous gurdwara of them all is Amritsar’s Golden Temple. Not only is the temple itself magnificent where it sits in the middle of the holy tank, a man-made pond with a single causeway leading out to the temple itself, where the holy book, the Guru Granth Sahib is stores. Covered in hundreds of kilos of gold, this place has a beauty to rival that of the Taj Mahal in Agra

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As you step through the foot baths and enter through the clock tower, the white marble of the tower perfectly frames the brightly shining temple in front of you. Walk the entire perimeter of the tank to take in the shifting colours as the sun’s angle varies. And if you stay until sunset like we did, the white marble of the surrounding temple complex changes to a pale pink, kites rise in the sky – and some of them irreverently fall into the tank where the devout bathe and wash off their sins.

For a religion that is open to all and welcomes guests of whatever faith, sikhism has still been seen as a threat to many over the centuries and grisly stories of martyrdom are depicted in the museum housed in the clock tower building. Atrocities too gruesome to recount were sometimes inflicted for apparently minor infractions, like refusing to carry a nobleman’s bags because they contained a pipe. Smoking is forbidden in sikhism, and large signs remind you not bring tobacco, alcohol or narcotics into the temple.

In fact, you’re not supposed to bring anything edible, but then again there’s no need to. And this is where we get to the kitchen part. Ina an operation that puts Western “fast food” chains to shame, the kitchens at the Golden Temple are said to serve between 60,000 and 80,000 people every day.
As you enter, you pick up one of the classics of Indian crockery, a stainless steel plate with multile compartments. At the next station you receive a spoon and finally a bowl before you are channeled into one of the dining rooms. To ensure the capacity is used to its maximum, one room is filled as the other empties, several hundred people being served in each sitting.
The fare may be simple, but it’s good wholesome Indian food: dal, a vegetable curry, chapatis and kheer – a sweet and warm rice pudding. There’s filtered water to drink. In the corner is the kitchen itself, filled with massive vats where the dal and curry bubble away. You know its freshly made and it is served hot straight onto your plate by a crew of people each carrying bucket-like vessels of one of the constituent parts of your meal.
There’s even seconds if you can find the space and the time

. As the meal progresses – and it does so rather rapidly – the first to take their seats are also the first to get up as the sweepers move in. A sprinkling of water and a broom as wide as I am tall makes quick work of the cleaning process. As you leave, you may spot the donation box on your way out. A bit of cash is always appreciated, but there’s no pressure. Still, they probably receive more in donations than it costs to run the kitchen, which is staffed by volunteers.

Hand in your spoon and your tray to the chain gang that takes it through a quick rinse before it ends up with clamouring, clanking noise at the dishwashing station. Finally, catch a glimpse of other groups of volunteers chopping vegetables, peeling onions and rinsing endless cloves of garlic to feed the next 10,000 to enter.

A dining experience unlike any other, the communal kitchen leaves you satisified in so many ways.