GML Freelance Contributor
For more than 40 years, the familiar sight of a man pedalling an ageing Raleigh bicycle through the streets of Dow Village, California, has signalled one thing to hungry customers - Tony “Jedi” Sanowar and his doubles have arrived.
Long before food trucks and social media advertising, Sanowar built his reputation the old-fashioned way: one customer, one bicycle and one doubles at a time.
Today, at 64, the veteran doubles vendor remains as committed to his craft as he was when he first set out with a wooden box strapped to the front of a bicycle after losing his job with the former state-owned sugar company, Caroni (1975) Limited.
“I worked in the harvester department until the temporary workers were laid off,” Sanowar recalled. “Instead of giving up, my wife Sharon and I decided to make doubles and sell them ourselves.”
That decision changed the course of his life.
The birth of the ‘Watap Watap’
While most doubles vendors sell the traditional two pieces of bara filled with curried channa, Sanowar became famous for creating something much bigger.
His signature creation, the “Watap Watap”, consists of four pieces of bara - essentially two doubles stacked one on top of the other. Customers can also order a “triples” made with three bara, but it is the towering Watap Watap that has become his trademark.
The name has become synonymous with Sanowar himself, drawing customers from across central Trinidad eager to tackle the oversized delicacy.
Despite the generous portions, Sanowar has resisted raising prices dramatically. A doubles still costs $5, while the famous Watap Watap sells for $10.
Long before most of the village awakens, the Sanowars are already hard at work.
Tony and his wife, Sharon, begin preparing fresh bara, perfectly seasoned channa and their signature spicy mango sauce in the early hours of the morning.
By about 8.15 am, dressed neatly in a shirt, trousers and apron, Tony wheels his trusted Raleigh bicycle from his home on Ninth Street.
It has become something of a daily ritual.
Customers often gather outside his bridge before he even leaves home.
“They don’t wait for me to come down the road because they’re afraid they might not get any,” he said with a hearty laugh.
The bicycle that refuses to retire
The bicycle itself has become almost as famous as its owner.
Sanowar estimates he has been using the same Raleigh bicycle since around 1980 or 1981.
“I got it from a man who used it to carry grass and take care of animals,” he said proudly.
“I am still using it. We can still get parts for it, although they’re not as good as the original ones.”
Mounted to the front is the double box in the carrier that has transported thousands upon thousands of doubles across the village over four decades.
For Sanowar, selling doubles has always been about more than making money.
He believes trust and honesty are just as important as good food.
Maintaining high standards of hygiene is a priority, so customers handle the cash themselves.
“They take their doubles, pay and give themselves their own change,” he explained. “Sometimes people even come back later and pay if they forgot. It’s love.”
That mutual respect has helped him build generations of loyal customers.
His son, Robin Sanowar, 39, believes his father’s greatest achievement extends far beyond the famous doubles.
“He enjoys meeting people and interacting with them,” Robin said. “He’s a joyful man. He spreads love wherever he goes.”
Robin said the doubles business enabled his parents to raise their family, educate both him and his sister and keep the household running through difficult economic times.
“My father has always worked hard for us.”
From ‘Jedi’ to ‘Dread Eye’
Around the community, however, Tony is better known by another name - “Jedi.”
The nickname originated from the Star Wars film Return of the Jedi. Over time, local pronunciation transformed it into “Dread Eye”, but regardless of what people call him, everyone knows exactly who they mean.
Away from the bicycle, Sanowar is also a devoted cricket umpire, another passion that has earned him respect within the community.
Although he works tirelessly during the week, he keeps weekends largely free, choosing instead to sell only on Friday evenings before taking time to rest.
He also credits his sisters for teaching him the art of making doubles when he first entered the business.
Among those who have remained faithful customers is Kern Bowen, who has been buying Sanowar’s doubles for more than 35 years.
“This is a classic doubles,” Bowen said. “From then until now, it still has the same taste. You don’t get doubles like this anymore. The channa isn’t watery and running out of the bara. The price is still right too. I’ve been buying since it cost a dollar. Before that, Tony would even say 99 cents.”
Sanowar’s bicycle has travelled far beyond Dow Village.
During the early development of the Point Lisas Industrial Estate, he pedalled through construction sites selling doubles to workers helping build what would become one of the country’s largest industrial hubs.
“There was only ISCOTT, T&TEC and PCS was grading land to build,” he recalled. “I rode there every day selling doubles.”
More than four decades later, little has changed.
The bicycle is older.
Tony’s hair is greyer.
But each morning, the familiar Raleigh still rolls onto the streets of Dow Village, carrying not just doubles, but a story of resilience, hard work and community spirit.
And as long as his legs can turn the pedals, Tony Sanowar says he has no intention of stopping.
“I’ll keep working until I can’t work anymore,” he said with a smile.
