An ode to the Artisans of Meat

To add a personal anecdote to John's propaganda below.

A friend from Bombay (you forgot to give him credit John) introduced John and me to Aap ki Khatir. He was stopping by in Delhi on work, and had only a night left for fun and frolic before he boarded his flight back to Bombay.

And he said Let me show you a good time. And we scoffed inwardly, and smiled outwardly. To humour him.

We drove around the Dargah area and stopped a little before the Oberoi flyover. And a rare Delhi downpour greeted us. It may have been a farishtah for most of the despondent populace, but it spelt doom for the promise of street food adventure.

Aap ki Khatir- a hole in the wall and a tandoor on the sidewalk was wrapping itself up in tarpauline. When they spotted us. The ones in cars, who had already ordered, had salvaged their meal, but not sidewalkers like us.

In our Khatir, an English-speaking man in crotch-hugging jeans stepped up and offered us shelter in the Aap ki Khatir hole, that was crammed with furniture. He took our order and egged on his tarpauline artisans of meat. Our Bombay friend squared his shoulders in arrogance and ordered more Kakori. And Mal and Oriya gluttony embarked on a grand song-n-dance. My bong palate, content to play twelfth-man, watched this meat-in-the-rain ritual in sheer disbelief.

Sweet-talking the English-speaking lad helped squeeze last plates of kabab and paratha from the Artisans of Meat. The rains had held off by then. The gluttons burped in euphoria over Coke. We packed some and headed home. The Mumbaiyya had won this round.

Aap Ki Kathir, you beauty.

I realized yesterday, while gnawing on a bone, that I had not done justice to the outstanding food experience that is Aap Ki Kathir. Previously, I had referred to that softest of kababs, the kakori kabab, that is the Aap Ki Kathir specialty. But that is not to say that nothing else is outstanding.

The place looks like this, but that does not mean they have prices to match. A plate of two kakoris will set you back eighty rupees and a fantastic plate of mutton burra costs hundred rupees. These are not standard 'stand up' rate. They know they are on to something special, and they charge accordingly.

The place gets surrounded by cars at seven, and gaps open up between them intermittently as satisfied regulars come and go.

Someone will come to your car and collect your order, but for a better experience, I suggest you
stand near the grill and eat. Surround yourself with the aromas of this place and you will find it impossible to stop eating. Also, to watch the kakori take shape is also a gastronomic exercise without parallel. There is a tray that is packed with moist, minced, spiced meat, which is almost like a paste. How they mince it so fine, is a question that is often asked of them, but seldom divulged, except in the vaguest of terms. Anyway, one of them assured me that papayas and curd are involved. The 'paste' is then spread over the skewers, grilled and served with good green mint chutney.

But as I mentioned when I started this post, Aap Ki Kathir is not just about the kakori. The burra for instance, is almost as good an experience as Karim. They don't even mind taking your plate back after you've eaten a morsel and softening 'em up a bit more. It is as fulfilling an experience as you can buy with a hundred rupees.

Hell, even the rumali rotis are of a grade that is rare. I find it absurd to go on about the humble rumali when the meat and everything else is of such high quality, but it does show genuine attention to the complete satisfaction of a customer.

There are other items as well, that are extremely tasty, but cannot be mentioned in the same sentence as the kakori. The lachha paratha is extremely oily and very tasty, to have with the extremely oily and tasty chicken korma. The biriyani is not great as far as biriyanis go, but the experience can be significantly improved with some spicy gravy. The dal makhni is not to bad either, but then, of all the places in Delhi, why go to Aap Ki Kathir to have dal?

Kakori Kebab

App Ki Khathir is near Nizamuddin, and I have not seen it open before sunset. During the day, some kind of garage operates there. Forget the chicks, these kebabs are probably the best thing about South Delhi.

A touch expensive for street food, two of these come for sixty rupees. I was told that the lamb would be marinated for three days with curd and papaya - among other things, to get the meat this soft.