Cullinary Chronicles of JNU

Food in JNU is a way of life. With the hostel messes churning out quantities of bland, boring and essentially banal food for the lesser mortals, the heart of the glutton roams around the dhabas and the canteens in search of solace. Thankfully, JNU does not disappoint these haunted souls and stomachs. 

·         LAMB DRY AT KIECHHA

This is a cozy Tibetan joint located in the KC Market. Overlooked by a photograph of the Dalai Lama, the place can host only 14 people at a time, but the food is quite lovely. For us, the residents of the Sutlej Hostel, it’s practically our out-house kitchen! The place specialises in lamb and serves several less know dishes. Take Fouyangs for example. These are pancakes made with noodles and egg, chicken or lamb, as the preference of the customer might be. Shafali are lamb or chicken fillings inside palm-sized fried jackets. Lamb comes in chowmeins, chopsueys, curries and fried rice. However, the trademark, and most sought after, Kiechha special is surely the Lamb Dry (around Rs. 70 a bowlful) – chunks of lamb fried to a dark reddish brown colour together with onions, green chilies and capsicum. Ooh!

·         KEEMA AT SIS CANTEEN

In JNU, every school building has its own canteen. The debate on which is the best one usually involves those of the School of Social Sciences II (SSS II) and the School of International Studies (SIS). My pick is the second one. Every day, during lunch hours, the place is thronged with students, out to grab a bite between busy hours in the classes and library. Manned by Babu bhaiyya, a Malayali gentleman, it specialises in South Indian food. But amidst the rolling out of bland sada dosas, onion dosas, uttapams and vadas, a dish will steal your heart. This is the keema curry (around 30 rupees a plate). Have it with paratha or rice, it is bound to rejuvenate the heart of the carnivore in the middle of a work-day quite magically.

·         MOUROLA MAACHH BHAJA AT SHAMBHU-DA’S CANTEEN

This is the JNU Staff canteen, but usually goes by the name of its Bengali chef, Shambhu. The menu is predominantly Bengali – rice, several dishes of fish, vegetables and chicken or mutton curry is what one can find here on any random day. But the best dish is mourola maachh bhaja (fried mourola fish). These are the dwarfs of the fish world – one hardly exceeds 5 cm in length. These are caught in great numbers, garnished with some turmeric and salt, and then fried to a mouth-watering crispiness and a golden yellow colour. They are served in little bowls which have 20-30 of them, and cost around 30 bucks a bowl. Best had with rice and dal (lentil), mourola maachh bhaja represents a welcome flash of the culinary culture of the Indian coastland in a fish-deprived culinary desert.

·        ALUNGSA FRY AT NORTH-EAST DHABA

Tossed in some God-knows-what spices, this is one of the best liver dishes I have ever had. They come in little bowlfuls, containing 4/5 pieces. Priced around 35/40 rupees, the taste is pleasantly uncommon. The quantity is not much; hence this is essentially a side dish between spoonfuls of some delightful noodles and honey chicken. The chicken sataey is also worth trying. 

·         BANTA AT GANGA DHABA

This is a trademark JNU drink – simple, yet tangy. A deadly combination of soda, lemon juice, salts and some crushed ice, banta is just what our bodies and hearts yearn for during the sizzling hot evenings of Delhi. Best thing – it comes for just 10 bucks. Damn refreshing, we invariably end up having several glasses.

·         CHIECKEN MALAI TIKKA AT 24.7 DHABA

The dhabas are the nerve-centres of JNU campus-life. These road-side open-air joints form the general rendezvous points for students after class hours. From the afternoon till well past midnight, these bustle on. The 24.7 dhaba remains open practically throughout the whole day and specialises in Punjabi food, among which, chicken malai tikka is surely the best. These little angels come in twelve pieces a dish, served on a warm buttery sauce and accompanied with pudina chutney and onion flakes (Rs. 160 for a plate of 12 pieces). Grilled to a soft tenderness and gentle yellowish off-white colour, a plate should be just about enough for the true food lover, but has been known to be sufficient to fill up a couple of lesser mortals. Rolled on the butter before being put in the mouth, one cannot but get flashes of chicken ala Kiev while having these, but the smoky tandoori flavour of the JNU delicacy immediately sets them apart.

·         MUTTON SHEEK KABAB AT MUGHAL DARBAR

Not too delicately spiced, but incredibly soft and tender, the mutton sheek kabab is the bloody best mutton dish one can find on campus. Best appreciated with the plain, and rather big, rumali roti, the kababs (Rs. 100 for a plate of 4 pieces) are made of ground mutton, together with herbs and spices, and then grilled to darkish brown. Mughal Darbar also serves wonderful chicken dishes, of which the spicy and oily chicken jahangiri, with its slight sour taste, deserves special mention. Soft and tender tandoori rotis, the gently sweetish sheer mal and the kheer are also worth trying. Oh, and also chicken afghani! Heaven!

Afterword: Once you have had the mutton sheek kabab, don’t wash your hands with soap. Let the lingering fragrance of spiced meat continue to titillate your palate for some more time.

JALEBI AT CHOWDHURY JI'S SHOP, KC 

Finally, dessert. Sweets are rare in JNU; the only sad option being the packeted Haldiram ka soan papdi or the school canteen's awful gulab jamuns. Although there are several ice cream shops and carts, my choice is jalebi/jilabi/jilipi. The Nilgiri dhaba in front of Godavari hostel also makes these. But my vote goes to the ones that Chowdhury ji furnishes at his small KC shop. The sweetness is less on your face. Plus, these are definitely crispier. Have it, and you will find yourself smiling ear to ear in the same way like the kid of our childhood Dhara ad: "Jalebi?"

Gar firdaus bar-ru-ye zamin ast, ham-een-ast, ham-een-ast, ham-een-ast

  

The dargah of Nizamuddin Auliya, the 14th century Sufi saint of Delhi, is one of the most famous pilgrimage sites in the city, both in pious and touristic circuits. Apart from the tomb of the Sufi saint himself, the dargah complex houses those of several other religious and political bigshots from the medieval times, who chose to be buried here due to the religious halo associated with it. One of the most prominent ones is that of the celebrated Persian poet Amir Khusraw, a disciple and close associate of the saint. When I was taken here for the first time by my friend and fellow medievalist Kashshaf Ghani, he reminded me of a celebrated poem by Khusraw:

Har qaum raast raahay, din-e wa qibla gaahay,

Man qibla raast kardam, ba simt kaj kulaahay.

Sansaar har ko poojay, kul ko jagat sarahay,
Makkay mein koyi dhoondhay, Kaashi ko koi jaaye,
Guyyian main apnay pi kay payyan padun na kaahay.
Har qaum raast raahay, din-e wa qibla gaahay.

(Every community has a faith, 

a direction [Qibla] to which they turn [to pray],

I have turned my face towards the tilted cap [of Nizamudin]

The whole world worships something or the other,
Some look for God in Mecca, while some go to Kashi,
So why can’t I, oh wise people, fall onto my beloved’s feet?

Every sect has a faith, a Qibla.)

Three years down the line, my qibla is not more than 500m away from where the saint with the tilted cap lies now. (Not bad, eh Khusraw?) It's a small joint which goes by the name of Ghalib Kabab Centre. It derives its name from the street on which it stands. Turns out that Mirza Asadullah Khan Ghalib, arguably the greatest Urdu poet of the 19th century Delhi, also wanted to be buried in the Nizamuddin comlex. However, the dargah authorities denied this last wish of the poet, citing his drinking habits as un-Islamic. Consequently, he had to be buried outside, though near, Nizamuddin's tomb. The road leading to his tomb has been named Ghalib Road. It is on this bustling, crowded and cacophonous road that sheek kababs having been rolling out of that sizzling oven for the past forty years and in absence of the Auliya saint, soothing many a thirsty heart and salivating tongue. 

Like every religious ceremony, our visits to the joint has a specific sequence of cullinary rituals. We begin with a few plates of beef sheek kababs. As they arrive in no time, along with the rumali rotis, our lust virtually gets out of hand and there ensues a mad squabble for the meat. There can be no words for describing these, so I will not try to find any. They simply melt in the mouth, and the tastes of the meat and spices simply dissolve into each other leaving behind a strong sense of sensual pleasure.

From here we graduate onto some beef tikka kabab. This comes to us as platefuls of meat chunks. Though not as tender as the sheek kababs, tikka kabab is equally generously spiced and grilled to an alluring dark brown colour. Lemon, chopped onions and the pudina chutney come as perfect accomplices of the delicious meat.

The dessert sessions usually consist of a flurry of firni. Again, best firni I have ever had. Stopping below two/three usually proves difficult. 

Then comes the real problem -- getting up.