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Hindustan Times
2 days ago
- Hindustan Times
Wild gourmet: India's most luxe meals, from its farthest locations
Those who profess a love for food like to brag about the lengths they'll go to for a memorable meal. That little 12-seater Mumbai restaurant everyone's been trying to get into for months. That chic Indian-Japanese place in Delhi that will be the next big thing. The Michelin-level pop-up in Bengaluru that cost ₹60,000 a seat. The secret offal menu that only in-the-know diners get at that bistro in Goa… Palaash serves a bush dinner right in the middle of a luxury retreat bordering Tipeshwar Wildlife Sanctuary. Some lengths are literal. Indian diners have been travelling to far-flung locations, sometimes making an overnight trip, just to have a good meal. Naar, Prateek Sadhu's award-winning restaurant in Kasauli, 60km from Chandigarh, is probably the best known. But little gems are thriving as far away as Arunachal Pradesh and the India-Pakistan border. They're a world away from the rushed, trendy kitchens of the big city. And they're uniquely challenging to run. Here's where to book your next food pilgrimage. Damu's Heritage Dine in the Chug Valley spotlights the food of the Monpa people. (PRIANKO BISWAS) Damu's Heritage DineChug Valley, Arunachal PradeshNearest city: Itanagar, 317km away ₹1,500 for an eight-course meal Public transportation isn't easy to come by in Arunachal Pradesh. But a taxi from Dirang town, eight kilometres away, will bring you to a village of mud and stone settlements in the lush Chug Valley. At Damu's, set amid paddy and corn fields, there's only one thing on the menu: An eight-course meal, spotlighting the food of the Monpa, a community from the state's Tawang and West Kameng districts. Look out for phurshing gombu. The charcoal-roasted ragi or cornflour tartlet, infused with yak butter and a kind of resin, is epic. The ingredient is made using highly allergic sap from the Chinese lacquer tree. Only one man in the village is skilled in extracting it without breaking into hives. How's that for a rare treat? Damu's, just about a year old, seats 12, and operates out of a century-old home. It's helmed by eight Monpa women, who manage restaurant work alongside their domestic responsibilities. On the menu are shya marku (yak meat with butter and ginger), baksa marku (a sweetened pasta), rakshi (a heady spirit served with yak ghee), buckwheat tacos and orange millet cakes. It's all local, sustainable, and foraged just before the guests arrive. Damu's dishes are all local, sustainable, and foraged just before the guests arrive. (TASHDIQUE AHMED) Damu's only takes bookings a day in advance, so the women can set aside time for it all. It's booked all through the tourist season, October to April. They've fed visitors from India's metros, as well as guests from as far away as Mexico, Japan, and Malaysia. There's no marketing budget. The place relies on social-media shares and word-of-mouth recommendations. Still, Nishant Sinha, coordinator of community-based tourism for WWF-India, says they often have to turn walk-in diners away because the kitchen hadn't accounted for them. 'It's a challenge,' he admits. 'But we wish to cater to those who value such an elaborate and intricate experience.' Few Monpa women have travelled outside their state. Most don't speak English (they do speak Hindi), so Leiki Chomu, the restaurant's manager, steps in with international guests. But the crew take naturally to hospitality and management. They handle the finances too, splitting revenues to reinvest in the business and support WWF-India's Community Conserved Areas initiative, which helps local communities benefit through heritage conservation. Last year, they contributed ₹40,000. The women started out with the aim of making ₹500 a day, without having to do backbreaking work. How are they faring? Damu's made ₹1.6 lakh last month. 'The best part is that June is generally off season for tourism in Arunachal Pradesh.' The Balti Farm in Ladakh seats 12 for lunch. Seats are booked a day in advance. (THE BALTI FARM) The Balti Farm at Virsa BaltistanTurtuk, LadakhNearest city: Leh, 205km away ₹4,000 for a seven-course meal Not much happens in Turtuk. The hamlet, nestled in an alpine valley between the Himalayas and the Karakoram, is one of the last pitstops this side of the India-Pakistan border. It's one of four Balti villages in India and only became part of our map in 1971. When it's not outright icy, it's chilly. It's so remote that hiring hospitality professionals is nearly impossible. So, at the boutique hotel Virsa Baltistan, a former driver is now a barista, an erstwhile mechanic is a steward, a onetime clerk handles the operations. 'They may be unfamiliar with luxury, but they respect the place and are honest and loyal,' says the hotel's owner Rashidullah Khan. And they're not short on ambition. Khan's hotel serves everything, from sushi to fancy coffee. At Balti Farm, the multi-course menu includes local specialties such as kisirnagrang-thur (buckwheat pancakes in herbed curd), praku (thumb-pinched pasta in a walnut sauce) and phading (apricots cooked with basil leaves). Local women prepare it all. 'They have their own household responsibilities and leave for namaaz in the evenings, so we only open for the afternoon meal,' Khan says. The restaurant serves everything, from sushi to local specialties. (THE BALTI FARM) Lunch seats 12. Seats are booked a day in advance. The trappings – small portions, fancy presentation, courses one after the other – puzzle the women. 'They joke with me, saying that food needs to be chewed like an animal and eaten with your hands. They think I am stingy and should serve the guests more generously.' Guests, however, don't seem to mind. The Balti Farm experience has been popular since it was launched in 2018. And Khan plans carefully, building the shopping list a month in advance and sourcing his Japanese ingredients from a specific store in Delhi. 'If the fish supply is impacted, we substitute it with fresh river fish. When avocadoes were not available for the sushi, we made it with apricot.' And in the snowy off-season, Khan travels to restaurants across India, to ensure that dining standards match up back home. A plant-based menu with indigenous herbs and rare flowers is coming soon. Meanwhile, Khan is keen to revive one aspect of Turtuk's Silk Route history: The barter system. 'Perhaps we can work with suppliers to trade apricots from here for coffee beans from Chikmagalur?' Amninder Sandhu with the all-women team of Palaash. They source ingredients from their own garden. PalaashTipai, MaharashtraNearest city: Nagpur, 180km away ₹4,500 for a seven-course meal From 2010 to 2017, Amninder Sandhu ran a bustling restaurant in her hometown of Jorhat, Assam, on the banks of the Brahmaputra. But Jorhat felt too small for her ambition. So, in October 2023, she set up Palaash, right in the middle of a luxury retreat bordering Tipeshwar Wildlife Sanctuary, serving a bush dinner for 12 in a grove so quiet, you can hear nocturnal animals take over the forest as the evening gives way to night. Palaash serves food from Maharashtra, Madhya Pradesh and Andhra Pradesh. But it is two-and-a-half hours away from the nearest bazaar. So, the all-women team sources ingredients from the restaurant's garden and neighbouring farms, and cooks everything gas-free – on chulhas, sigris, a tandoor, a robata grill, and a 'cool underground pit' for meats. Diners from as far away as Assam and the US have booked seats to try the raan in a jowar bhakri tortilla and laal thecha, and the ambaadi chaat (a sweet and tangy pineapple granita, topped with dahi and a crisp ambadi leaf, tamarind pearls and ambadi bud dust). Everything is cooked on chulhas, sigris, a tandoor, or an underground pit. Working away from the buzz, and with women who haven't seen a commercial kitchen, has been an adventure, Sandhu says. 'The women were shy and didn't think the food they made was significant.' She had to teach them prep and plating techniques. 'Vocabulary I took for granted – whisk, offset spatula, chopping board – was unfamiliar to them,' she recalls. Where they scored was their comfort with local fuels, and their consistency borne from experience. Sandhu saw them make perfectly uniform, round rotis, an undervalued skill in modern cooking. The region poses challenges. 'It's arid. You can't go foraging, like in the hills, and find 10 ingredients,' Sandhu says. So, courses are tweaked depending on the season. Diners in winter get the indrayani rice steamed in turmeric leaves. In the summer, the rice is wrapped in pumpkin leaves. The women have figured out their operations over two years. 'I travel in once a week or once a month,' Sandhu says. 'It is these women that run Palaash. I've never heard any negative customer feedback.' Paeru at Mharo Khet is located on a 40-acre farm. Paeru at Mharo KhetManaklao, RajasthanNearest city: Jodhpur, 25km away ₹4,500 for nine courses The tomato tartar on the menu is subtitled simply: Strawberry, chamomile, nasturtium. Don't expect a salad. What emerges from the kitchen is a cold soup made through a three-day anaerobic fermentation process, in which bacteria from the tomatoes reacts with sugar in the strawberries. 'I am certain that most diners do not realise the in-depth science and effort behind making this,' says Rajnush Agarwal, who runs Mharo Khet, the 40-acre farm at the edge of the Thar desert, that serves the unusual dish. Mharo Khet started out as a fresh-produce delivery service in 2020. Now, it has 10 luxury cottages, does tours and serves a sold-out lunch and dinner service called Paeru. It ticks all the boxes for fussy diners. It's plant-forward, it's set in a guava orchard, it's a blind menu (guests don't know what's being served until they're at the table). There might be jowar tostadas one day; a beetroot ceviche with goat cheese, another. Descriptions are rarely literal. Rajasthan's familiar pyaaz ki kachori is served as a shortcrust tartlet, with tempered potatoes, onion jam and a jalapeño thecha. 'Our visitors appreciate the innovative reimagining of traditional dishes,' Agarwal says. Rajasthan's pyaaz ki kachori is served as a shortcrust tartlet, with tempered potatoes and onion jam. Behind the scenes, everyone's been learning. Locals are taught that less is more while plating a multi-course meal, that texture matters as much as flavour, that it's possible to go overboard on the edible-flower garnishes. And in a dry region, every harvest calls for quick math. 'If there are 20 diners and only 14 pieces of baby corn in the day's yield, that dish must be changed,' Agarwal says. In the first few years, the kitchen simply worked by candlelight when the power would go out. Now, there's a back-up generator. Some city diners still drop in with special requests at the last minute. 'It took time for people to understand that a specialty, multi-course dining establishment is different from a typical F&B outlet.' From HT Brunch, July 19, 2025 Follow us on
Time of India
05-07-2025
- Time of India
Dal-Chawal diaries: Tracing India's comfort food from Kashmir to Kanyakumari
The North CHEF PRATEEK SADHU, founder of Naar — India 's first destination restaurant nestled in the hills of Kasauli — says that the hills have an 'interesting' dal culture. It's a contrast to his native Kashmir, where the lentil plays a less prominent role, barring the Kashmiri whole moong, which is cooked with turmeric and a generous dose of fennel powder. Sadhu says in Himachal, they make rajma madra — kidney beans cooked in yoghurt gravy. According to regional culinary blogs, madra can be made using beans, pulses and peas and is a part of the traditional feast called dhaam. Dogras prepare madra with rajma, white chana , rongi, green pea and black lentil. In Himachali households, there's a whole black gram dish slowcooked with no onion or garlic and eaten with makki ki roti. Punjab's maa ki dal is made with onion and garlic. Then there is also the region's famous maa-chhole (black gram and chana). The legendary dal-makhani, born in undivided Punjab, is slow cooked with urad and rajma, along with butter and cream. CHEF PAWAN BISHT, who is from Uttarakhand, chronicles dals on his Instagram. He names bhaddu ki dal, bhatt ki churkani, gahat, chainsoo, dubke, pahadi masran dal, among others. 'Cooking in an iron wok or using bhaddu — a thick bottomed and narrowneck vessel made of alloy — and use of organic lentils, Himalayan herbs like jhambu and gandhreni adds to the flavour,' he says. CHEF MANU CHANDRA, founder, LUPA Bengaluru, is a classically trained European chef, but he has grown up on dal-chawal in his Army household. In central India, he says, the staple is a moong-masoor (de-skinned) with jeera, garlic and hing tempering. He also mentions a dal made in his Kayastha household similar to Amritsari sookhi dal — skinned urad cooked like rice, with turmeric and ginger. They'd top it with fried onions, cumin and red chilli tadka. The North East DIMAPUR-BASED CHEF JOEL BASUMATARI says that the dal in his house is always cooked by his wife Viseino. 'Every mom's dal has a different taste, a unique touch. Its simplicity can't be matched,' he shares. There's nothing like a 'typical' Northeast dal, the chef says. Every state has a different recipe, preparation and a choice of dal, 'Even within the tribes, the dal taste will differ,' he adds. In Nagaland, it is skinned raahar (arhar or toor) dal, mostly not fried but boiled, with bamboo shoots, chilli (Raja mirch), turmeric, salt, with no masala or tempering. It is garnished with local coriander called Burma dhania or sawtooth coriander. In Manipur, meals are incomplete without a dal, says communications professional Nenem Misao, who belongs to the Kuki tribe. Unpolished skinned masoor is boiled with tomato, onion, garlic and local chilli malchapom, alongwith haldi and salt. A typical table will have non-veg items, boiled vegetables, dal, rice (sticky one) and malchame (chutney). 'Common malchame are made with fermented beans or fish, ankamthu (extract of fermented mustard leaves),' she says. Chutneys are part of all meals in Nagaland too. In Meghalaya, the Khasi make dai nei iong— black whole pulse (horse gram or urad) cooked with black sesame paste. The dal is boiled and the sesame is added as a paste, along with ginger, garlic and mustard oil paste. Recently, chef Sanjeev Kapoor posted a video of an Assamese dal — masoor cooked with tomato, except he added jeera, which many in the comments insisted had to be the five-spice blend called panchphoraninstead. Some even add the Assamese lemon (kaji nemu) or borthekera (a local berry) for sourness. The East FOOD WRITER KALYAN KARMAKAR, founder, Finely Chopped, is a Bengali living in Mumbai. He says the appreciation for dal grows as you get older. He counts Bengal's cholar (chana) dal, skinned masoor dal with kalonji and machher matha diye moong dal (moong with fish head) as his favourites, along with Parsi dal preparations—dhansak (dhan or dal with meat) and masoor ma gosh (black masoor and mutton). ODIA FOOD CURATOR SUJATA DEHURY says that the first formal restaurant in Odisha bore the name of an iconic dal dish, Dalma. It is a nourishing dish with dal and local vegetables all cooked in cow ghee, with freshly roasted cumin-red chili powder, crushed ginger and bay leaf. While a regular dalma is quite simple, the temple version has grated coconut, urad dal crunchies called naadi — making it thicker and adding a sweet note. The West RUSHINA GHILDIYAL, FOUNDER OF A PERFECT BITE CONSULTING, who has researched on how India eats dal, reckons that as you move from North to South, there's a preference for split and skinned dals. The use of gram flour, especially in Rajasthan, is common. 'They also use chillies extensively, as it works as a cooling agent,' says Ghildiyal. The iconic Rajasthani addition to the dal roster is the Panchmel dal — a part of the signature dal-baati-churma dish. It mixes five lentils — Bengal gram, black gram, green gram, pigeon peas split and skinned, and moth bean split. SHEETAL BHATT , A CULINARY CHRONICLER AND FOUNDER, says that in Gujarat, a traditional meal is incomplete without the khatti-meethi dal made with skinned toor. Bhatt says that there's no set recipe for the dal that uses jaggery for sweetness and tamarind for sourness, adding, 'Recipes are heirlooms. You will know the khattimitthi dal by the way it smells. The dal tells you when it's done.' The amti dal from Maharashtra uses split and skinned toor with a very sambarlike masala and kokum as a souring agent. Legend has it that the cook for Chhatrapati Sambaji Maharaj ran out of kokum and added tamarind and thus the sambar was born. The South CHEF CHALAPATHI RAO, based in Hyderabad, puts the spotlight on the dalcha or lentil-based stew that originated in Hyderabad, which uses chana dal mixed with vegetables like pumpkin and bottle gourd or with meat. 'For gosht dalcha, you use the rib cage meat and eat with baghara rice (tempered rice).' No dal from Andhra and Telangana is more famous than the pappu. You can make a tomato pappu, palak pappu, amaranth pappu — depending on what you add to it. Rao says that Andhraites also use gongura and even seasonal chiggur (tender tamarind leaves) leaves to make the pappu. CHEF REGI MATHEW, a Kerala native known for his restaurants in Chennai and Bengaluru, has launched a new space in New York called Chatti — a space that offers the flavours of Kerala's toddy shop cuisine. He says that the sambar is the quintessential southern dal — common to all southern states. 'On the face of it, they are called the same but once you eat it, you know they are distinctly different dishes,' he says. While all the sambars use pigeon pea (toor) as the base, the flavour profile is quite distinct. The spicy Andhra sambar, thanks to the liberal use of red chilies and tamarind, also uses vegetables like yellow cucumber, bottle gourd, and pumpkin. In Kerala, the sambar will have an addition of coconut or 'varutharacha' masala —roasted coconut and spices. The Tamil sambar is more tangy with roasted spice mix and dal. The Karnataka sambar is characterised by its sweet taste thanks to the addition of jaggery. Mathew says if you are looking at an iconic dal from Kerala, it has to be parippu —which is the first course of the Onam Sadya. Moong (or even toor) is cooked to softness and ground coconut masala is added to it. For spices, it only uses turmeric, coconut, salt and jeera. The other Kerala staple, Mathew notes is — a rice porridge with whole green grams stir fried with coconut, curry leaves and green chillies. LEELA PRABHA, CO-FOUNDER OF MALGUDI MYLARI MANE in Bengaluru, which specialises in North and Central Karnataka food, says besides the 'sweet sambar' that varies in sweetness in different regions of Karnataka, what gives the dals a distinct taste are local spices — especially bydagi chillies. She notes that bassaru or upsaaru is a popular recipe from Karnataka, and is prepared using toor, green gram, horse gram, beans and greens like Amaranthus and dill. It's served as an accompaniment with ragi mudde (ragi balls) or rice. Locally sourced greens can also be paired with lentils. 'There's also koli bassaru prepared with chicken and lentils like chana, green gram and, of course, the Mysorepak , which is also made of gram flour,' she adds.
