Defining and delicious Lal Pedas and Giloris of Ram Bhandar - packed for posterity.
A confectionery immortalized by a fleeting yet notable glimpse in Ray's 'Joybaba Felunath' - where dear Feluda whisks off Bikash, an accomplice, at gunpoint from Ram Bhandar, leaving the obliging vendor with a firm promise to return soon.
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Banarasi Malai Lassi and an unknown funambulist!
Hopes that had led me to this popular Lassi-joint of Ramnagar were grounded with its first sip - with a cloying sweetness, crushed confection pointlessly spread on top and a thickness more akin to Rabri than Lassi. Or, were I too loath to embrace the local-taste? What I returned with were memories of an amazing feat we hopelessly practise more in life than on rope. Poise is forever at a premium.
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An almost unstately departure that soon turned out to be a toothsome meal at the heart of Varanasi. Food at Roma's cafe was rich in taste and all that I'd fancied in good-food - and unusually generous in portions. Those cheese-wrapped Enchiladas, as urban rendering of something gloriously rustic, proved quaint and tasty. Minding how customarily odd it is in Varanasi to praise the exotic, I leave you with glimpses of what I ate heartily at Roma's. For fish-and-chips only I'm keen to return and be delighted again.
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Kipling is lax to artful thefts. So, comes the ballad of Veg and I - never the twain shall meet! That's as true as sunset.
Paralysing sourness in chats spoilt a promising supper and made me rue choosing Deena over neighbouring Kashi Chat Centre. Or, were I too loath to embrace the ruling taste? Luckily, with balanced sweetness, Kulfi Faluda proved redeemingly toothsome causing me lap up two in a row. So, the jury is still out on if I loved the food at Deena.
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The 'Banarsi' start. Discovering provenance of food is not what I do as spiritedly as eating. But the familiar taste of Benarasi kachori-sabzi did confirm that at Kolkata I just settle for an exalted imitation of it. Always crispy, mature and delicious, come what may. Prepared with urad daal flour/ whole wheat flour, they stay soft within and crisp without for days, and puffed until you prick or pat it flat. 'Alu baingan palak ki subzi' at Madhur Jalpan intrigued me well - with poise and by being a friendly foil to gentle Kachoris.
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If you love god, build tall towers. And, if you love food as god, visit Lucknow.
The thought of leaving the 'City of Nawabs' had me clutch at straws and set out on the trail of a redeeming Kullad of chai. In time, I found Prem Tea Point at Hazratgunj, and therein a variant finely poised between a locally popular 'Dudhwali' and solemn 'Kadak' - just milky and laced with briskly spices. A far cry from neighbouring Sharmaji's. Liliputian-jalebi and oblong Gulab-jamun lent themselves out typically as delicious sides. Pains of parting were eased and I, contented, bade Lucknow au revoir.
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But for it, leaves would have forever remained object of cursory admiration and infrequent reference. 'Pan' made of fabled 'Jagannathi' of Varanasi - filled with freshening fennel, mint, elaichi, fragrant saffron and dry fruits, is born to please with perceptible elegance. Endowed with an intriguing aftertaste that wanes slower than is desired. Traditionally not eaten in pairs like a lesser Maghai, though I had three in a row just to atone for a bottomless love of meat.
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Sabir's Rezala had ruled my gastronomic fancies uncontested until it met its Waterloo in Raheem's Nihari this afternoon. Juicy mutton cubes dunked in a flavourous curry slow-cooked with bold spices; and served with Kulchas that are both soft and flaky, very French. A pair wherein subtlety is married to simplicity, typifying the culinary spirit of Lucknow. Indelibly delicious and is worth every agony of overeating. In short, a meal I'd cherish forever.
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A diluted taste I forgot sooner than I could step out of the fabled joint. As many as 28 ingredients failed to salvage a washy Thandai from oblivion. Regrettably reduced to a thing of the past. Or, was that a swill in the making?
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The Lucknawi start. Admiring Boti-kebab is discerning a wealth of notes in delicious dice of juicy mutton. And, Dastarkhwan's rendering of it did leave with an admirable relish. On par with the finest I've had so far. Oddly mix of rice in Biriyani proved commonplace. Shahi-tukra pleased with poise and richness. Overall, a memorable meal I must say.
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A Siddiqui amid Khans,Singhs and Kapurs. At Al Zaiqa, found Biriyani at its all-around best - cooked with long grained rice and sappy mutton offering a zesty ensemble traditionally fancied in Awadhi cuisine, clearly outstripping Idrees' in overall relish. Boti-kebab, nonetheless, upset with misplaced fat. Cooks of Lucknow keep at most two good arrows in the quiver. Rest are all dud. Much loved Chicken Kalimirch was ruefully shelved until next trip.
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Hop, skip and jump from Aminabad Tunday Kababi. I wondered how swimmingly could frozen cream slide down my meat-loving entrails. Savoured delicious kulfis at legendary Prakash Kulfi. Smooth, creamy, flavorous and abounding in dry fruits. Truly the stuff of legend.
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I bowed to the toothless Nabab who, perched on a wobbly throne, could binge even in the teeth of a looming old-age. And, the resolute cook who let his handicap be immortalised in melting Kebabs.
Thus came the Napoleon of Galawati - Tunday, as delicious roundels of melting meat, pairing with Ulte tawa ke parathe, since made on inverted girdles, like a briskly Fred Astaire with nimbly Ginger Rogers. But, Biriyani was plebeian and Phirni, BAD. So, buy watch only from a watchmaker.
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Sharma Ji ki Chai - a glorified ersatz of tea. Overtly hyped. High on milk and health, and agonizingly low on what I unhesitatingly ache for in 'Chai' - the rakish kick. This is precisely what I would materialise if Gogol, my son, is craving for a cuppa as weekend indulgence.
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I saw how as few as two Malai Giloris on the trot could trigger an aching for countless of it. They were crunchy bliss - with mishri, dry-fruits and a lot more wrapped in deliciously fresh malai! An ace of sweets by all means.
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Populist Idrees is ticked off once and for all! Burst of Awadhi flavours was conspicuously marred by a remorseless use of lesser rice. I deem Idrees' as Biriyani at its boorish best that in my eyes lost a perfect ten not by a hair but tuft. A treat best savoured with eyes shut.
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