A foodie at rest

Much as I love Mumbai, in my book Delhi is the Food capital of India. For sure this is going to upset the Foodie elite of  some other cities. But, none can beat Delhi for its sheer range and variety. From Street Food to Dhabas, Canteens and Eateries, Cafes and Stand-alone restaurants  to Specialty Fine Dining at 5 Stars  - no other  city offers as much choice and options as Delhi. For all their faults , let’s admit it, Punjabis understand food – more importantly, are willing to shell out money for eating out.

more style than substance

Bombay's food scene really started changing in the '90s with  the discovery and subsequent up-market transformation of Mangalorean  Sea-Food joints like Trishna and Mahesh. Next to arrive were western food  restaurants like Rahul Akerkar's Indigo (successor of Cafe uner the Over)  and A.D. Singh's Olive Kitchen & Bar. Much later came, Moshe's, Basilico, Salt Water Cafe and, more recently, Smoke House Deli and LPQ.  Many chic places have sprung-up since in mid-town (Lower Parel area) and the suburbs - most notably, Bandra, such as the Pali Café, but most of them are more style than substance –  feast for the eyes and wallet rather than the palate. The coming of age of Malwani eateries has added a new ethnic dimension at the budget end - but Street food in Mumbai has a limited variety -  largely restricted to the old Mill-workers’ staples. Mumbai doesn't have any real Dhabas. The old Irani Cafes have all but disappeared. Few people go to Sion Koliwada these days other than residents of the area. Muslim food  generally available around the city (not specific quarters like the Bohri Mohalla and  Mohammed Ali Road ) , as typified by Bade Miyan in Colaba or Jafferbhai’s Delhi Durbar, - is unexciting for those initiated into the finer traditions of  Mughlai / Nizami cuisine of Delhi, Lucknow or Hyderabad. Parsi and Irani food are difficult to come by and now exist only for the die-hards. After the demise of City Kitchen – New Martin’s remains the last flag-bearer of authentic  Goan fare.  I am not a great fan of GujjuFood – so won’t enter into a debate on the intricacies of Gujarat nu Jaman here (though you can now get it in Delhi too with Branches of Rajdhani  all over).  But, finally, at the top end, the F & B outlets at 5 Stars in Mumbai are miles behind  those of Delhi.

trying too hard

Like in many other aspects of cosmopolitan living  – Bangalore also tries hard on Food, but is yet to get there totally . Chennai is still too regional – barring the odd exception.  Calcutta – unfortunately, like in everything else -  has been out of  the race for quite some time now (ultimately it all boils down to a function of disposable income).

walled city to world city

What makes Delhi stand-out from other cities is – apart from  the original Mughlai, Punjabi and North Indian (both Hindu and Muslim) cuisine  – you can get food from practically all over India and also a wide international variety that is now available in the city. The last is thanks not only to the presence of a large expatriate population and  diplomatic corps, foreign tourists and business travelers but also a size-able section of the more discerning, well-traveled and well-heeled Delhiites - who believe in , to use the local parlance, a culture of "wining and dining". So, Delhi can now boast of some of the finest Italian, Western Grills, Japanese, Korean, Vietnamese and specialty Chinese restaurants and, mind you, not all of them at 5 Stars. Even Cafes like Big Chill or Turtle and boutique restaurants such as Basil & Thyme offer great quality and value. It's difficult to beat the ambience of some like Magic in the Garden of 5 senses (Mehrauli) or the restaurant in Lodi Gardens.  Borrowing a line from an old Times of India campaign, Delhi has - at least in culinary terms -  transformed itself from a "walled city" to a truly "world city".

intimations of mortality

As I turn older and intimations of mortality get louder by the day – I am trying to pare down choices to a few  favourites – knowing that time is running out. This applies to as much to people and relationships as it does to places  I visit, things I like and restaurants  I frequent.  On eating out I now feel an aversion to experiment  unless it comes  with very strong recommendation from people whose judgment I intrinsically trust.

selective binging

Now that I don’t travel to Delhi as often – I have become even more selective. For me – the food map of Delhi begins at Jama Masjid and Chandni Chowk Area and restricted to the boundaries of the outer Ring Road. So the Haryanvi frontiers of Gurgaon  - which has its own gastronomical universe - are definitely outside my beat.  But, within this limited geography I am able to get my fill from both ends of the spectrum. These are my top 10 ‘do not miss’ picks for Delhi . Connoisseurs may not approve of the list and the true-blue Dilli-wala may dismiss the selections as far from being the representative best.  I too have been to and known better places. But this is all I have the time, inclination or budget for these days - when I'm feeling adventurous and energetic enough to step out from the IIC Bar:

1. Karim’s Jama Masjid: Sheermal, Seekh Kebab (2 pcs) , Mutton Burra (1/2 portion), Roomali Roti with Chicken Korma (Breast piece) and Mutton Biriyani (1/2 plate) 
2. National Dhaba, Connaught Place : Sag-Mutton, Gurda-Kaleji, Chicken Curry (Breast Piece) and Tandoori Roti;
3. Taipan – The Oberoi : Dim Sums and  Roast Peking Duck –  Full Meal ( of Pancake Rolls; Duck-Meat in Black-bean sauce with Steamed Rice and Clear Duck-Soup)
4. Tamura (Japanese) Green Park – Sushi, Sashimi, Pork Spare-Ribs, Agedashi Tofu; Omlette Rice
5. The Goong (Korean) Green Park: BBQ Pork Belly and Kimchi 
6.  La Piazza, The Hyatt : Almost everything – but never miss the Carpaccio;
7.  India International Centre  (Main Dining Hall) : Roast Mutton and Ginger Pudding;
8.  Chaat  Wala (Behind UPSC ) Shahzahan Road 
9.  Andhra Bhavan , Ashoka Road: Veg Thali plus Mutton Fry and Chicken Curry; Chicken Biriyani for Sunday lunch.   
10. Rick’s (Bar) – The Taj Mansingh;

the last stop before heaven

My last stop on every trip – before leaving for the airport is Jorbagh Market.  Smoked Chicken and Smoked Leg of Ham from Pigpo; Masala Sausages and Cheeses from The Steakhouse. While Pigpo, as the name suggests, is probably the best Pork Products shop in the country – The Steakhouse is one of its kind grocery store, which no Wal-Mart will ever be able to match. 

While Bombay has a rocking night-life, the food-scene in Delhi really rocks. But, I am a retired foodie - at rest now - so don't take me too seriously.

She loves me, she loves me not.....

Bombay doesn't love me, but do I love Bombay ? This is the classic conundrum generations of adoptive 'Mumbaikars' like me - who have tried to make Bombay their home ( despite the periodic protestations of the 'uncle' or his cub turned fledgling tiger 'nephew' ) - struggle with. Bombay is like the quintessential femme fatale - from Cleopatra to Carla, Angelina to Ash, Marylin to Madhuri - who have through the ages made millions drop on their knees by simply refusing to be conquered. Bombay doesn't believe in slow seduction like Calcutta, nor does it have the brash, on your face, 'come hither' attitude of Delhi. It simply shocks you to submission and ( very often) total surrender.

I was ruminating these thoughts on my way back home from Geoffrey's, where I had tried - with limited success - to ply a young colleague with drinks on a potential career move to Mumbai from the comfortable confines of Calcutta. He parried every single argument I proffered with a stolid, one point counter - "but why ?" - throwing the ball determinedly back on my court.

It is this "but why ?" factor which baffles everyone visiting Mumbai from other cities small, large or another megalopolis ( like Delhi would like to believe it is ) . They fail to figure out what's the fix that hook people so hopelessly and irreparably to this 'packed and pestilential' city - which Kipling , if he were to live today, would have described in the self-same words he used for Charnock's Calcutta ( still holds true , by the way ) - "As the fungus sprouts chaotic from its bed, So it spread–chance-directed, chance-erected ....." except perhaps, he would have modified it a little to read - "builders selected, builders created.....where penthouses, hovel-poverty and pride (exist ) - side-by side " and it would have fitted Mumbai beautifully.

A couple of weeks ago, the chief of a well-known PR Agency told me, how she was appalled at visiting the new apartment of a just retired senior civil servant, to find it was smaller than the size of her living room and cost almost as much as her bungalow by the golf-greens of Gurgaon. And yet, she is surprised, even corporates who constantly complain about the soaring real-estate prices, unaffordable rents, high wages and crumbling infrastructure - threatening to shift base to Gurgaon and Bangalore - stop short at Andheri, which keeps bringing back the likes of her to Mumbai in search of new business. The critiques on Mumbai (lack of space, crowded trains, snarling traffic, poor quality of life, etc etc.... ) are as cliched as the the praises that are heaped upon her ( city of opportunity, professional work-culture, efficiency and so on... ) none of which can bear repetition here. But both these constituencies, I think, miss the essence of Mumbai or , as the Americans say, ' don't get it'.

I don't love Bombay - either for her glitz and glamour or for her grossly romanticised under-belly made pruriently fashionable by the new genre of "realist" Bollywood movies or the likes of Shantaram ( foreigners make a cool business of this as Morehouse, Lapierre and Grass did for Calcutta or, more recently, Dalrymple for his City of Djinns ).

I love Bombay for the energy she exudes, her pace, her indefatigable spirit - her infectious positivism. I love Bombay because she lives in the 'present' - neither harking back to an over glorified past nor the dreams of future transformation to a "world city from a walled city", whatever that might mean ( Bombay needn't ever be another Shanghai or a Singapore for that matter !!). I love Bombay for the personal space she gives her people. So what if they live in pigeon-hole apartments or travel in sardine-packed trains - no other city is as "non-judgemental" as Bombay. Yet she's not amoral, somewhere deep within, she is moored in strong, middle-class Indian values. I love Bombay because she respects anonymity - she allows you to exist without wearing a name tag on your chest or dangling a calling card on your sleeves. Here, I can take the train to work or enjoy my Sunday afternoon beer with mandali fries at my favourite JBs ( Janta Bar - for the uninitiated readers of this blog ) without anybody sparing me as much as a second glance - let alone waste their energy in lifting an eye-brow. And yet, she breeds just that right amount of insecurity, like the dynamic sexual tension generated by a consummate lover, never letting you take her for granted - only to bring out the best in you, keeping you always longing for more.... That's what makes it a truly 'international' city unlike her northern pretenders;

Bombay doesn't need to ooze her sensuality or titillate your senses - to cast her spell on you and make you her slave for life. She only has to look at you with a side-glance. That's why - I am amused to think, how in 6 months time or even less the same young man who was greeting my spiel about Bombay with scornful skepticism would become a irreversible convert. And more than him - his wife, who he was convinced would never be able to adjust to the tough life here, having been used to a cozy pampered existence since childhood, would get so irredeemably addicted to the charms and spoils of Mumbai, that she'd rather dump him than desert the city.

Once a friend asked me about Delhi - is there nothing you like about this city ? I told her, of course, I do love your winters. She probed why ? - and I answered, because the weather makes the people a wee bit tolerable. A truism which, as a 3rd generation Delhi-ite, even she couldn't refute. Mumbai, thankfully, has no seasons - but only the monsoons. And, who cannot but fall in love with the sight of the torrid rain beating down on a raging sea - merging in a deep blissful union of the elements.