I used to be a foodie. Reveling at the thought of a square meal, wondering what dinner would be during lunch and planning lunch during breakfast.
Then hostel happened. In the midst of unidentifiable fried objects and the occasional worm wriggling it's way out of the aforementioned UFOs I lost my appetite, love for sambar, and a distaste for garlic rasam. As I slowly regain my taste buds, oodles of weight and that happy contended look that only comes from eating food that can, in twenty years, give you a heart attack. So chronicled below are some of the gastronomic excesses that I've indulged in over the past couple of months.
The usual disclaimers apply as does a profound regret that I don't take pictures of my food.
In no temporal profile or order, first up - Punjabi by Nature. Gol guppas with Absolut peppar aside this place I think has the best local fare for the worst possible price. While as expensive, if not more than the urban dhabas at Pandara Road, PbN scores over them as it serves alcohol. The Galouti Kabab, which as rumour would have it was created for a Lucknowi Nawab who was either edentulous or had a full set of snappers that he was just to lazy to use, is understandably a dish of the rich and famous of an era gone by. Lamb meat that's been tenderized and then pounded to oblivion to create a kabab that melts in one's mouth. Like swiss chocolate, only richer. The kabab itself is delicately spiced with saffron. Explains the price but also the total satisfaction that follows it's consumption. The Dal Makhani is by far the best I've had. It's a tough call between Bukhara and here but since Bukhara was too long ago and the people who fed me then are too far away I think we'll give PbN an edge. And it's not just the fat that makes it taste good. The butter chicken should be had for the gravy and not the chicken, again wondering if the folks at the Habitat Centre's Dilli-o-Dilli do a better job. Overall, recommended if rich, if not then still recommended once in a lifetime. a
Karim's. If one has to take the metro across Delhi to get paperwork done at the University and the train passes below old Delhi, an urge almost magnetic causes one to hop off on the way back at Chawri Bazaar and follow the mass of humanity to Jama Masjid and thence to Karim's. For those of you who've read Wells' Time Machine, Chawri Bazaar is like the future only flipped. The wendols live above and occasionally saunter down 30 feet or more to the metro station and thankfully haven't yet started kidnapping young nubile things. But that apart a quick rickshaw ride from the station to Karim's and Mutton Biryani and Mutton Korma is the way to go. The prices are reasonable while the quantity appears lacking. But nay, never let the initial sight disappoint you since the end result is the usual sated expression. Any food there floats in a lake of fat. And makes life worth living. The rice itself is heavenly. No added colour, just plain rice and a chunk of meat. Unlike the biryanis down south (Hyderabad included) the major flavour is of the meat itself and something else they add that I haven't been able to identify. Again, worth your while and now that the metro goes close enough it shouldn't be too much of a problem to actually get there.
Finally there's this hole in the wall in RK Puram called Nazeer's delicacies. I haven't been there and till now all transactions have been over the telephone. But that is sufficient for him to send over tangri kababs and sheeks in half an hour. The tangri needs a special mention. A large leg of a bird, or the leg of a large bird miraculously stuffed with kheema and raisins and cashew nuts. And the meat is moist and tender and that special centre just makes the 25 bucks I spend on it worth while. The sheeks too are suspiciously beefy, which so far north is a surprise. Beef or not that too should be tried.
On a quick last one, the Habitat Centre had a bengali food festival the last time I went there and they gave me this steamed fish wrapped in a banana leaf. Don't know what it's called but sure liked it enough to believe that fish can be eaten.
So what's left? I still need to try the Chicken Lababdar at Moti Mahal in the M Block market, I need to try fish at Ploof, non Mughlai UP cuisine at Nand Lal Dhaba and maybe a couple more that I can't quite remember. Till then, bon appetit.
Then hostel happened. In the midst of unidentifiable fried objects and the occasional worm wriggling it's way out of the aforementioned UFOs I lost my appetite, love for sambar, and a distaste for garlic rasam. As I slowly regain my taste buds, oodles of weight and that happy contended look that only comes from eating food that can, in twenty years, give you a heart attack. So chronicled below are some of the gastronomic excesses that I've indulged in over the past couple of months.
The usual disclaimers apply as does a profound regret that I don't take pictures of my food.
In no temporal profile or order, first up - Punjabi by Nature. Gol guppas with Absolut peppar aside this place I think has the best local fare for the worst possible price. While as expensive, if not more than the urban dhabas at Pandara Road, PbN scores over them as it serves alcohol. The Galouti Kabab, which as rumour would have it was created for a Lucknowi Nawab who was either edentulous or had a full set of snappers that he was just to lazy to use, is understandably a dish of the rich and famous of an era gone by. Lamb meat that's been tenderized and then pounded to oblivion to create a kabab that melts in one's mouth. Like swiss chocolate, only richer. The kabab itself is delicately spiced with saffron. Explains the price but also the total satisfaction that follows it's consumption. The Dal Makhani is by far the best I've had. It's a tough call between Bukhara and here but since Bukhara was too long ago and the people who fed me then are too far away I think we'll give PbN an edge. And it's not just the fat that makes it taste good. The butter chicken should be had for the gravy and not the chicken, again wondering if the folks at the Habitat Centre's Dilli-o-Dilli do a better job. Overall, recommended if rich, if not then still recommended once in a lifetime. a
Karim's. If one has to take the metro across Delhi to get paperwork done at the University and the train passes below old Delhi, an urge almost magnetic causes one to hop off on the way back at Chawri Bazaar and follow the mass of humanity to Jama Masjid and thence to Karim's. For those of you who've read Wells' Time Machine, Chawri Bazaar is like the future only flipped. The wendols live above and occasionally saunter down 30 feet or more to the metro station and thankfully haven't yet started kidnapping young nubile things. But that apart a quick rickshaw ride from the station to Karim's and Mutton Biryani and Mutton Korma is the way to go. The prices are reasonable while the quantity appears lacking. But nay, never let the initial sight disappoint you since the end result is the usual sated expression. Any food there floats in a lake of fat. And makes life worth living. The rice itself is heavenly. No added colour, just plain rice and a chunk of meat. Unlike the biryanis down south (Hyderabad included) the major flavour is of the meat itself and something else they add that I haven't been able to identify. Again, worth your while and now that the metro goes close enough it shouldn't be too much of a problem to actually get there.
Finally there's this hole in the wall in RK Puram called Nazeer's delicacies. I haven't been there and till now all transactions have been over the telephone. But that is sufficient for him to send over tangri kababs and sheeks in half an hour. The tangri needs a special mention. A large leg of a bird, or the leg of a large bird miraculously stuffed with kheema and raisins and cashew nuts. And the meat is moist and tender and that special centre just makes the 25 bucks I spend on it worth while. The sheeks too are suspiciously beefy, which so far north is a surprise. Beef or not that too should be tried.
On a quick last one, the Habitat Centre had a bengali food festival the last time I went there and they gave me this steamed fish wrapped in a banana leaf. Don't know what it's called but sure liked it enough to believe that fish can be eaten.
So what's left? I still need to try the Chicken Lababdar at Moti Mahal in the M Block market, I need to try fish at Ploof, non Mughlai UP cuisine at Nand Lal Dhaba and maybe a couple more that I can't quite remember. Till then, bon appetit.
