Some day as the sun shows that streak of crimson before quietly fading away from the city, stand behind a 28th floor window in Connaught Place to look at the famous Bahai temple in all its silent splendour. Those slanting rays of the sun illuminating one part of the monument, leaving the other in relative anonymity. No, I haven’t got my geography wrong. It is indeed possible to see the temple located at Shambhu Dayal Marg near Nehru Place from a hotel near Barakhamba Road. Some day as the sun sets and electric bulbs appear like little bindus on the city canvas, reminding you of an illustrious artist answering to the name S.H. Raza, stand in The Grill Room at The Lalit to soak in the experience. Delhi is beautiful to look at from where I find myself standing: the Bahai temple, Nehru Place towers in the South, Jama Masjid, India Gate…all fall in the eye-line. I hop from one window to the other and on to the other… My mind, never too far from Hindi films, goes back to that famous Dev Anand song, “Pal bhar ke liye koi humein pyar kar le”, where he sneaks in from behind every window only for the heroine to close them all, one pane after another.
But I am luckier. For me the actual delight is in the distance between the windows at a nice table for two placed at the far end of the newly renovated 28th floor restaurant The Grill Room. Revamped under the watchful eye of Jyotsana Suri herself, it now boasts a more soothing, sober look with a predominance of white. The menu too is a shade trimmer, concentrating on the niceties pretty well. I had gone expecting some unusual delicacies ranging from bluefin tuna to Canadian duckbreast, but I was not prepared for a pleasant surprise at the beginning and at the end.
Here is how it worked out for me, and my friend Aslam Khan, who throughout the meal kept the conversation to a minimum, alternating between being a good listener and a keen eater with natural ease: we began with tenderloin empanadas and goat cheese tart. I cared less for empanadas, concentrating my energies on the tart, which is a baked 60-days aged goat cheese and caramelised red onion preparation with a helping of honey. Aslam loved the leafy greens, I smiled to myself, whispering, “to each his own”. We continued our respective merry ways with the soups, I with my butternut squash soup, my co-diner with his cauliflower cappuccino. Like the proverbial neighbour’s wife, we liked the other’s soup better! As we extended our spoons to each other’s generous helpings, we elicited smiles from the staff. We smiled back, a few things are for sharing, man!
Slowly, ever so slowly, the soup disappeared, leaving the table open for the main course where we went with what Executive Sous Chef Ishika Konar suggested. Now Ishika seems to have done her homework well and was able to mix and match her strengths to our spicier palate.
She suggested we go in for tenderloin steak which was a well marbled steak with a fillet of wagyu and served with blue cheese mash. The staff wanted to reveal more details of the preparation. I needed nil, the dish spoke for itself. Again, I found it placed closer to where my friend was sitting. But hey, didn’t we learn in school that the best place to find a helping hand is at the end of your arm? So, I extended my arm, helped myself to some really delicious tenderloin; it lived up to its name: it was tender and with a sprinkling of pepper and lemon sauce, it was not bland either. I liked it. And helped myself to some more.
Meanwhile, French cut New Zealand lamb chops yelled for attention. I heard the cry much later, and in passing, reserving just a couple of bites for the preparation made with the flesh of a young sheep and potato wedges. My partner, meanwhile, had moved on to Cornish hen breast.
I left him to soak in the experience but moved ahead with my course, ordering my dessert. The chocolate hazelnut tart was a blessing. Like Chanakya taught us through history books, I started eating it from the corner, aiming to gradually strike at the centre. A staffer noticed and suggested that the best comes down the centre. I got the hint and found the centre, creamy, layered, rich and sumptuous. Easily the highlight of the meal.
A couple of hours of leisurely eating over, we stepped out, taking in the panoramic view of the city once more. My co-diner could barely conceal his joy, caused at least partly by a delectable meal, and clicked a couple of photos of his, mine, ours. And the Bahai.
As for the meal, well, its memory stays locked in our minds.
