The aroma follows you; or rather, you follow the aroma. Wisps of smoke rise in the air and disappear in the medley of sound and colour that this street around Jama Masjid in Old Delhi is known for. You see men, old and young, grilling kebabs on their small barbecues. Crowds gather in the evenings, just as the sun sets, for an evening snack or an early dinner.
The Walled City has its own rules. Lanes devoted to vegetarian food open up at dawn. That’s when you get a breakfast of crisp kachoris and runny potato curries, or juicy jalebis and thickened, creamy milk. In other parts of the Old City, the food stalls come to life in the evenings. That’s when the grills come out, along with the skewers and marinated meat.
In this street called Urdu Bazaar, there is a small counter at the end of a lane. That’s where you find Anmol Chicken Corner, where the grilled chicken is so good — and so deliciously sinful — that you don’t forget it once you have had a taste of it.
Around the lanes of Jama Masjid, you can spot eateries with little hillocks of marinated chicken pieces or whole chicken hanging from iron rods. They are cooked in different ways — grilled in a tandoor or on a rack over an open fire or simply fried. For many die-hard chicken lovers, these lanes promise untold delights.
But Anmol is different. It sells butter chicken, which is not to be confused with the butter chicken — tandoori chicken in a tomato-and-cream-based sauce — that Delhi is known for. Anmol’s butter chicken is just what the two words imply — chicken in butter.
In Old Delhi, where some eateries are over 100 years old, Anmol is relatively new — they have been at the spot for the last 20 years or so. Every day, some 100 kilos of chicken are grilled and served. It has become quite a rage in the city, equally popular with local residents, distant tourists and food walkers.
If you are there any evening, you will find at the counter a mound of marinated pieces of chicken, boneless or with bone, in a huge wide-bottomed vessel known as a paraat . Next to it is a large slab of butter. The ustad at the counter grills the chicken on a skewer over a coal fire. Once done, the pieces are put in a bowl. A masala is sprinkled over it — a mix of chillies, dried mango powder and chaat masala — along with a spoonful of chutney .
In a pan, butter is heated, and once it melts into a golden liquid, it is poured over the chicken. The pot is given a good shake, and Anmol’s butter chicken — hot, spicy, buttery and juicy — is ready. It is served with sliced onions and green chutney prepared with chopped coriander leaves and chillies.
The butter softens the meat, seeping into it and giving it its own distinct flavour and aroma. Eaten then and there, hot off the grill, Anmol’s butter chicken is heavenly.
Long after the last morsel has been eaten, the taste stays within you. And the aroma haunts you, like a fragrant ittar .
