In celebration of offbeat Delhi food
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.
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?
There seems to be a terrible paucity of good Mexican food joints in Delhi.
One of the options that has been around for a while is Rodeo’s. Frankly, I haven’t even tried their stuff yet, but that’s only because I keep hearing very mixed reviews about the place.
A week ago, I was in the mood for Mexican and called up Harneet for ideas. That’s when I got to know about Sancho’s in South Ex. My experience was good enough to suggest an EOiD outing, and so yesterday seven of us landed up there for some dinner.
Continue reading “Sancho’s”
I heart EOiD.
It was just a few weeks ago, on December 21 to be precise, while making a plan for Kabuli food in Ballimaran, that it suddenly struck me — surely there were other Afghan restaurants in Delhi? A little googling indicated the existence of such a place in Lajpat Nagar, but there was no mention of the precise location.
So I posted the question on our EOiD community on Orkut, thinking perhaps eventually someone in the know would come along. The response left me stunned — barely had a few hours passed that Manik (yes, the same one who’d pointed me to Nagpal’s Chhole Bhature) wrote back with the name and exact address of the place, with the owner’s cell number to boot!
“Some fruity sandwiches?” asked Rahul Verma several months ago, and I promptly put my hand up.
We’ve mentioned how Delhi’s food is often descended from that of the mediaeval lashkars garrisoned around the forts of the capital. Today Shahjahanabad is home to an army of office-goers and shopkeepers who trade in everything from spices to bridal trousseaux to electrical fittings.
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.
Late last week, nine of us EOiD adventurers turned our noses westwards, and headed to Rajouri Garden.
I’d been looking for an excuse to go there for a while now — I kept hearing about the Giani’s ice-cream parlour there, but couldn’t enthuse myself to travel such long distances just for desserts. Then a few days ago the perfect excuse landed in my lap, when Shashank returned raving from an evening of eating out at the J-Block Community Centre at Rajouri Garden.
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.
Eating Out in Delhi 