I like the simple things of life. Give me a parantha or two (or three) and I will be as happy as a king. Alas, I don’t eat paranthas as often as I would like to. Even though some researchers now say that butter isn’t all that bad for your health, we continue to nurture some old fears about fat. Of course, anything in excess is bad for you. But I firmly believe that a parantha now and then –– with a dollop of white butter –– can do no harm.
These thoughts came to my mind when I went looking for Glory Veg Restaurant in Meharchand Market the other day. My brother-in-law had told me about it some time ago. He had eaten a few delicious paranthas there and had been raving about them ever since. Glory’s paranthas, I had a feeling, would be like the paranthas that we ate in the highway dhabas on our way to the hills.
I found the restaurant next to a well-lit taxi service called Doab. The address is 148/149 Meharchand Market, (the phone numbers are 9873255296 and 9953779337). A gentleman was sitting there, overseeing cooks at work. Do you do paranthas, I asked. Do we do paranthas, he replied. Of course, we do!
That day’s stop was a recce mission. Another evening, on my way back from south Delhi, I stopped to pick up a consignment of paranthas. The white butter in a bowl indicated that the paranthas actually should have been eaten right there and then. But I had promised folks at home that I would be bringing dinner. So I asked the genial gentleman there to pack me parathas stuffed with paneer, potatoes, onion and cauliflower. Because it was Navratri, Glory Veg was off onions and garlic. But as a special favour, I got an onion parantha. I also bought some chholey from there.
While the paranthas were being prepared, I rushed to the kabab and tikka shop in Meharchand and picked up some mutton korma and chicken malai tikka. Then I picked up my parcel of stuffed paranthas and went home. I may as well add here that I found it quite difficult to handle the delicious aromas that had been trapped in the car.
The paranthas were delicious, even though I couldn’t eat them with the white butter. He had served them with a pickle, and I had asked for some raita that looked good. The kind gentleman had warned me that the curd may have become too sour –– and he was right, it had. But the soft paranthas with the tikka on the side, a generous dollop of chholey and a bit of gravy from the korma –– made for an excellent meal. The paranthas were huge and had been grilled well. I enjoyed the paneer and potato ones the most, and thought the chholey, cooked with a light hand, was excellent.
I had bought two each of cauliflower and potato paranthas and one each of paneer and onion, along with two plates of chholey. The entire bill came to Rs. 430.
The brother-in-law’s tip wasn’t bad after all. Buoyed by this success, he has been trying to tell me about a Moradabadi biryani seller in Lajpat Nagar. One of these days, I shall go look him up.
