Speak to some of the well decorated chefs at five star hotels across the city and you will find them understandably evasive about sharing the details of their craft. Nudge them a little, and they will wink. Cajole a bit more, and finally little nuggets begin to slip out. On quiet afternoons when mere mortals like you and me plod through in our offices, they sneak away to those ever busy lanes and bylanes of Shahjahanabad to keep their date with age-old khansamahs, bawarchis, masalchis. From Jama Masjid to Gali Madrasa Hussain Bux to Matia Mahal and Chitli Qabar to Lal Kuan, Ballimaran and on to Khari Baoli, they leave not a lane untouched. Some age-old residents have the secret formula to make nahari spicy and tangy, some keep the secrets of royal haleem closely guarded, others have watched over the mysteries of sutli kababs for generations. The illustrious chefs sit across a dastarkhwan, pick little gems from their talks and, in turn, piece together some delectable dishes for their own patrons. Ah! The joy of sharing!
Then the chefs don the garb of a buyer in the sellers’ market. This time, they walk down to sundry masala merchants of Khari Baoli, Sui Walan and Chitli Qabar and pick up stuff they won’t easily find elsewhere in the city. These trips to Old Delhi, famous for its cuisine, help the chefs put together some of the best food festivals for those who find it easier to go to Pattaya than Phatak Punjabian, Monaco rather than Matia Mahal. Of late, this love affair with Purani Dilli seems to be taking the NCR five-star circuit by storm. This past week, I made a halt at Park Plaza’s The Great Kabab Factory in Noida for the latest Purani Dilli food festival. Curated by Indian Master Chef Vakil Ahmad — yes, he too has done the rounds of Old Delhi to enrich his knowledge bank — the festival proves a delight in ways more plentiful than a cloudburst may contain in this season of belated rains. I take along little Maryam and Aliza, girls for whom Old Delhi comes not without a ring of exotica.
Soon arrives a kabab platter offering six options, each tempting the palate, pleasing the eye. Really, there can be few better experiences at the dining table than to see steam coming from kababs placed on a milky white plate with rings of onions and a slice of lemon occupying a significant corner. We start with galouti which is backed with a little parantha. The chutneys, mint, coriander, tomato and coconut, are rendered superfluous. The kabab is, thankfully, spicy, and predictably soft. I love it. The kids approach it with a degree of apprehension. The chef tones down the spice level for them, and the kids join in the fun.
Next comes Jamia murgh ki raan. Having spent considerable time covering Jamia as a young reporter, I enquire, what’s special about Jamia’s chicken. Umm. Well, the preparation turns out to be better than the answer. The meat is uniformly cooked and is easy to slice with a butter knife. This time, coriander chutney helps to improve the flavour. No such questions are needed while polishing off Turkmani machchi fry. The fish is boneless, the gram batter coating consistent, the spice level on the lower side. I sprinkle a bit of lemon and am rewarded with an enhanced taste.
Then comes the surprise: Peshawari murgh tikka. A little liberty by way of Jamia murgh is fine but Peshawar? The preparation, however, needs no value addition, exotic name or otherwise. It is the good old murgh tikka, the kind which is very popular on the streets of Dilli 6. In the rarefied atmosphere of Park Plaza, it is every bit as appealing, as tasty. It is followed by seekh kabab. Now I have weakness for seekh kababs and I finish off my stuff in a jiffy, then eye those on the kids’ plates. They relent. I gorge some more.
I am tempted to ask for a second helping of galouti and seekh. Before I mouth my request, my silent prayer is answered. God is merciful, the chef kind. And I eat some more of those spicy, spicy kababs before remembering that the main course is yet to come!
The kids, meanwhile, opt for vegetarian dishes like soufiyani paneer tikka, tandoori aaloo and Daryaganj ki chaat, the last one having been tweaked by the chef who has heated and fried the stuff otherwise used fresh by chatwallahs of Old Delhi.
The hosts suggest that we try Dal Factory. I decline, opting only for Nalli Nahari and Murgh Biryani. The biryani turns out to be pretty fine, retaining a little tangy taste, a little whiff of mint leaves.
The nahari is not much to write home about. I don’t mind it much though concentrating my energies on a dessert feast to follow.
And what a treat in sweets: gulam jamun, hot and delectable, kesari rice kheer, enjoyable without being memorable, kulfi and paan ice cream, each predictably tasty. And finally, moong dal ka halwa. Somewhat heavy, certainly delectable. It is very much like the food we have had.
Old Delhi in Noida, anyone?
