This is my penultimate food report of our recent Delhi trip. And this may be the first one that covers food generally very familiar to the majority of my readership in the US and Europe: what in India is roughly known as “Mughlai” food–though what relationship many of the dishes that fall under that umbrella have to actual Mughal royal cuisine is not very clear. These days Mughlai refers to a pastiche of cooking styles and dishes from the the nawabi cuisine of Awadh, and that of Punjab and what used to be called the Northwest Frontier (Pakistan, Afghanistan)–and the Muslim food of Hyderabad is often thrown in for good measure as well. The names of many of the most famous dishes will be instantly recognizable: butter chicken, malai kofta, shami kabab, naan, korma etc.

This is the food, rich with cream and nut pastes, that has over the last 50-60 years been imported to their new homes by South Asian immigrants all over the world–well, by new homes I mean the restaurants opened by immigrants around the world, very little of this food is actually cooked in the average home. While more regionally specific food has made some inroads in the US (and more so in the UK–the Michelin starred Quilon, for instance, focuses on south-western coastal food) this cuisine remains more or less synonymous with Indian food. I don’t mean to suggest that there’s something inauthentic about this state of affairs–this remains the dominant restaurant food of most of North India as well–though, of course, there it sits in a very different kind of context and very few over-large claims are ever made for it.

In the US there is not very much separating crappy curry houses from places pretending not to be crappy curry houses and both kinds float uneasily on a sea of cashew paste and cream. At one end of the continuum pre-fabricated sauces are the norm while more cooking happens at the other, but there’s not as wide a gulf separating them as there is, for example, between Olive Garden’ish Italian food and more serious Italian restaurants. As Theseus noted in his review of the India’s Taj Mahal Tandoori Gandhi Grill in downtown Athens, “the best in this kind are but shadows, and the worst are no worse if imagination amend them”. I’m not saying there aren’t any exceptions but they’re few and far between.

I don’t eat too much of this stuff when I go “home” these days either; partly because I want to focus on the things I absolutely can’t get (decent versions of) in the US, and partly for reasons having to do with my lipid profile. This is heavy food in India as well. However, kababs and other things that come out of the tandoors in most places in India are far superior to what’s available in the US–in the US the process of making kababs and other grilled meats seems to focus more on the application of red food colouring as it does on anything else. And of course, in India no one ever asks you if you want your dal maakhni “mild, medium or spicy”. So, I don’t avoid it entirely.

On this trip we ate in this rough genre at two places. First up, dinner at Raas, a relatively new restaurant in the execrable Hauz Khas Village (it’s hard to tell which is more annoying, the version of “the Village” that existed in the early 1990s or the current version) and then lunch at Punjab Grill at the rather glitzy Ambience mall in Gurgaon (complete with a BMW showroom). Punjab Grill was the brainchild of the redoubtable Jiggs Kalra, and there are branches all over India now (and at least one swanky international outpost in Singapore) but I believe he is no longer involved. Raas is billed as an Indian-Pakistani restaurant–as to whether there is anything Pakistani about the alleged Pakistani dishes other than place names attached to them, I don’t know.

Click on the first thumbnail below to launch a slideshow. Details and comments on the dishes are contained in the captions.

Raas is a nicer space than might appear from this photograph with all the reflecting gold. Tables are spread out comfortably and the floor-ceiling windows offer a nice view.

Unfortunately, the level we were on features a singer (a curse at a large number of Delhi restaurants). This young man was, in fact, very good, but it would be nicer if the volume were lower and he didn’t sing more or less non-stop through the evening.

Things got off to a good start with these chutneys/condiments. The one on the left was some kind of pickled greens and was very nice. And we really liked these bowls as well, which were used for most everything.

Lahori Mutton Seekh Kababs. Very nice. Dear American readers: please note that they are not maroon or neon red and how moist they appear.

Consider also the colour of these Lasuni Murg Tikkas, marinated in garlic and perfectly grilled in the tandoor.

Hyderabadi lamb biryani. Quite good.

I forgot to take a picture of the assorted breads we got but here is a very nice rumali roti.

Khumb Hara Dhaniya Pyaaz Waala: the name more or less literally translates as mushrooms with coriander leaves and green onions, and that’s what it was, and it was good.

Lahori Murgh Masala, known among friends as Chicken Tikka Masala; well, not really but it’s in the same family. Quite nice.

Laal Maas, which translates as ‘red meat’, is a famous Rajasthani dish. The redness and earthy texture of the sauce, comes from the fact that it is made with ground dried chillies. All in all, despite the nightmare of parking in Hauz Khas Village and the talented but omni-present and over-amplified singer, this was a very nice meal. Not cheap but not staggeringly expensive either. Five of us ate for somewhere in the region of Rs. 7000, with some drinks as well (we also got a dal-tarka that is not pictured).

So, on to Punjab Grill: We started with the Murgh Malai Tikka, marinated in cashew paste. Very good.

Chaamp Taajdar: Lamb chops that are braised and then finished in the tandoor. This was not bad but more attractive than tasty.

Raan-e-Sikandari: a whole leg of kid, again slow-cooked and then finished in the tandoor. Allegedly spiked with rum but I could taste no evidence of that. This was just okay as well.

Dal Maakhni: did not come with a side of statins but probably should have. Very, very, very good.

Butter chicken: The best butter chicken is not so much better than the worst butter chicken but this was very close to the best I’ve had in a long time.

Bharwan Kesari Guchchi: morels stuffed with khoya and simmered in a creamy sauce with saffron. Rather good.

A closer view of the stuffing in the morels. We also got some breads and desserts but these were unaccountably not photographed. All in all, a good meal. Some things disappointed (the lamb chops, the raan) but others were stellar (the malai tikka, the dal, the morels). Priced more or less on par with Raas. No singer, but the man singing ‘Lady in Red’ two restaurants over could be heard very clearly.

And this is just a bonus shot of the tandoori chicken at the Cafe Linger Longer. This is the outdoor cafe at the Airforce Golf Club that my father always drags us to under the mistaken impression that my nephews love to go there. I include this just to correct any impression I may have given that completely ordinary food in this genre is not also available in Delhi.

Just one more Delhi food report to go.