Amritsari Kulche in Rohini

We economists have a dirty secret. We’re quite clueless. No, really.

Take for instance, the case of amritsari kulche. The kulche are about as closely related to their Delhi counterparts as the average barrel-chested Sikh is to your wiry daalkhor UP baniya.

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Karim’s

It’s been written about ad nauseum. Throw a stone, and you’re liable to hit a foodie in whom it inspires a religious zeal the Imam at the Jama Masjid next door would envy. If you hear my friend Nishant talk about it, you’d think he’d been to the Rapture – and got an autograph.

Like a tutu-clad elephant in the room, Karim’s has hitherto been respectfully ignored by this blog. But what better time to make amends than just after having held a record-breaking EOiD gathering there?

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Sitaram Dewan Chand

It’s true. We men don’t ask for directions.

A couple months back, having heard one too many recommendations for Sitaram Dewan Chand’s Chhole Bhature, I googled their address, found the rough location on an online map, and went down to Paharganj. I reached the street I was looking for, but despite driving as slowly as the traffic behind me allowed, couldn’t spot the shop. I could’ve stopped and asked just about anyone, but no sir, I’m a man.

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Nagpal Amar Rahe!

There are few things more difficult than getting yourself to start going for morning walks in Delhi’s pitiful excuse of a monsoon season. I had been trying to get going for several weeks, on occasion even succeeding in rousing myself in the wee hours of the morning. But I would lose heart when just a step out of the house confirmed that sona inside was infinitely better than sauna outside.

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On a (Church) Mission to Fatehpuri Masjid

As the summer flexes its muscles over the subcontinent, the mind harkens back to a “field trip” to the Fatehpuri Masjid area of old Delhi in early February. On a cold winter Sunday, four of us intrepid foodies found ourselves at the Chandni Chowk metro station, with an appetite braced by the early morning drizzle.

I was sure we were in for a treat the moment Shashank led us into an obscure little back lane leading away from the station, with the confidence of a sherpa on the road to the Everest. Here was a man who knew his puraani dilli.
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Haji Noora ki Nihari

Abhik and I decided to revisit the Bara Hindu Rao area today in our quest for Haji Noora’s Nihari, a quest in which we had been stymied once before, when we had gone the day after Eid-ul-Fitr only to find the shop closed on account of the festivities. The whole area was much more lively today, and it took much resolve and thick skin to resist the temptations on offer on the way to the intended nihari shop — several little shops selling everything from tea-and-rusks to khastaa kachoris to poori-aloo to haleem teased our senses from every direction. Continue reading “Haji Noora ki Nihari”

Momos at Majnu ka Tila

… and at Defence Colony

Having been stymied in our quest for Haji Noora’s Nihari, Abhik and I were racing past ISBT en route to Chawri Bazaar, when it struck him that we should stop at the Tibetan colony at Majnu ka Tila. Abhik was in quest of Sukuti, or strips of dried buff fried in onion, garlic, and green pepper.
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