And then in October last year, K and N took me on a midnight expedition in search of good food
and raat ki dilli. This was the time of ramzan, when Karim's serves nihari in the wee hours of the morning. Nihari is a beef/lamb/mutton stew cooked in tonnes of ghee, that forms the traditional food before the day's fast begins. Hence, three in the morning is the time that the Karim's begins
to serve it.
We got to the the Juma Masjid area at about twelve, and stopped at Moti Mahal in Daryaganj. Imagine an open-air mehfil setup from the Hindi movies of the 70s (where Amitabh breaks into song) and you would've pictured the outer gardens of Moti Mahal. Where Punjabi families
were still polishing dal makhni to the very Anup-Jalota-school rendition of Rafi numbers form the yesteryears. K suggested that we move inside to drown out
the mehfil and concentrate on food. And we seat ourselves inside, when K declares
that this is the place that first popularised the Great Dilli Butter Chicken.
So we order kababs, butter chicken and rotis. Besides the kababs melting in our mouths and the rotis and nans being delicious, we noticed crucially that the butter chicken tasted very very different from the familiar taste of butter chicken that we were used to. Other than being
superbly creamy and a quaint sweet-but-sour, I can't really explain how it tasted. So do try it when you get the opportunity.
We had two hours to kill between Moti Mahal and nihari. And butter chicken to push down our gullets to mete out appropriate welcome to nihari.
The walk to Juma Masjid around this time was to be a surprise. The galis flooded with people. Shopkeepers harking out wares. Multiple midnight markets. streamers running over our heads across the widths of galis. Women shopping for clothes. Young lads gorging at sweetshops.
Children looking around in complete bewilderment.
This was an overkill for my romance-tissues. High on the energies that brushed past me, I realised butter chicken had occupied considerable territory in my foodpipe when we entered Karim's. The hot stew arrived. Ghee dancing on top. This was no health food. And not for those that are wary
of heavy food. This was bravery food. And out of the world. Describing how food tastes is not my area of expertise. But will recommend it strongly to gallant foodies.
And the midnight markets abound in sweetmeat of all kinds. I not a hugely sweet person, but will recommend the pedas. The midnight walk completes the grub-expedition. Nourishing one with romance and extravanza of a fabled sort, over and above goat-brain, ghee, butter and chicken. An indulgence truly sinful.
and raat ki dilli. This was the time of ramzan, when Karim's serves nihari in the wee hours of the morning. Nihari is a beef/lamb/mutton stew cooked in tonnes of ghee, that forms the traditional food before the day's fast begins. Hence, three in the morning is the time that the Karim's begins
to serve it.
We got to the the Juma Masjid area at about twelve, and stopped at Moti Mahal in Daryaganj. Imagine an open-air mehfil setup from the Hindi movies of the 70s (where Amitabh breaks into song) and you would've pictured the outer gardens of Moti Mahal. Where Punjabi families
were still polishing dal makhni to the very Anup-Jalota-school rendition of Rafi numbers form the yesteryears. K suggested that we move inside to drown out
the mehfil and concentrate on food. And we seat ourselves inside, when K declares
that this is the place that first popularised the Great Dilli Butter Chicken.
So we order kababs, butter chicken and rotis. Besides the kababs melting in our mouths and the rotis and nans being delicious, we noticed crucially that the butter chicken tasted very very different from the familiar taste of butter chicken that we were used to. Other than being
superbly creamy and a quaint sweet-but-sour, I can't really explain how it tasted. So do try it when you get the opportunity.
We had two hours to kill between Moti Mahal and nihari. And butter chicken to push down our gullets to mete out appropriate welcome to nihari.
The walk to Juma Masjid around this time was to be a surprise. The galis flooded with people. Shopkeepers harking out wares. Multiple midnight markets. streamers running over our heads across the widths of galis. Women shopping for clothes. Young lads gorging at sweetshops.
Children looking around in complete bewilderment.
This was an overkill for my romance-tissues. High on the energies that brushed past me, I realised butter chicken had occupied considerable territory in my foodpipe when we entered Karim's. The hot stew arrived. Ghee dancing on top. This was no health food. And not for those that are wary
of heavy food. This was bravery food. And out of the world. Describing how food tastes is not my area of expertise. But will recommend it strongly to gallant foodies.
And the midnight markets abound in sweetmeat of all kinds. I not a hugely sweet person, but will recommend the pedas. The midnight walk completes the grub-expedition. Nourishing one with romance and extravanza of a fabled sort, over and above goat-brain, ghee, butter and chicken. An indulgence truly sinful.
