Mocha Bar

Shop 8-9, Ground Floor, Satyam Cineplexes District Centre, Nehru Place, Delhi
011 2646 6733    www.mocha.co.in


Australian country singer Slim Dusty famously sang about A Pub With No Beer, the tune most likely to send shivers of horror up the spines of all red blooded, thirsty Australian men within earshot.

Mocha Bar might have had classic rock on the muzak, but it might as well have been Slim Dusty; as for a bar that appears pitched squarely at Delhi’s drinking, sport loving, classic rock crooning thirty something male, there was a major dearth of beer.


Mocha Bar is part of the highly successful Cafe Mocha chain - although for some reason isn't represented on its website - and has been open a full year.  It offers two categories of beer: priced at 110 rupees a pint are Carlsberg, Tuborg, Budweiser, Tiger and Kingfisher. This particular night, none were available but Budweiser and Kingfisher, but the latter hadn’t been chilled, so we were forced to get a beer off the more expensive list. 

That was my first complaint. The second came hot on the heels of the beer debacle. On the menu are ‘poutines’, a French-Canadian dish that’s essentially hot chips smeared with cheese and topped with gravy, kind of like nachos but without the healthful qualities. On an earlier visit I’d passed up the poutine but I was deeply hankering for it this time; unfortunately what appeared was a bowl of chips and a bowl of gravy. The manager blamed a “printing error” on the menu and assured us the menu was being reprinted. A bowl of chips? That’s not what Wikipedia says it is.

Complaint number three: draw the freakin curtains! For all of Mocha Bar’s dark atmospheric nature inside, it’s situated inside a kind of shopping centre, so right outside each of the many windows is strip lighting, security guards and random people on their way to Sbarro. Way too much reality for a Saturday night.

Now to the good bits, of which there are many. Did I mention the decor? It’s like being in a teenage girl’s bedroom, but in teenage boy colours. There are comfy velvet sofas, a bright blue neon lit bar, painted baroque-esque chandeliers, and brick walls. There are big TV screens showing sport. The seating configuration is extremely well-thought through (not something I ever thought I’d mention as a plus, but such a rarity in India). Seats are comfortable, the music is loud enough to create a vibe but not so loud that it’s an ear-splitting audial inferno. The cocktails, of which there are many, are inspired - fruity and delicious. The food - even the misrepresented chips and gravy - is tasty.

The menu, in fact, is really very good. It is split into bar snacks such as spinach fritters, paninis, burgers, ‘something substantial’ and one-pot meals. Just the thing to soak up that expensive Becks (grrr). On a previous visit I had the mushroom linguini and it was great, but this time we both wanted something meatier. The OMG burger is a shallow-fried, thin patty of chicken or lamb, on a choice of ciabatta or multigrain, with salad and sauce, plus a side of fries, gherkins and coleslaw. The Juicy Lucy burger, with the same sides and again a choice of lamb or chicken, is a dollop of tender, pulled meat in a smoky-sweet sauce. 

The burgers were both delicious, however the bread turned out to be way too delicate to deal with the meat, and fell apart quickly. The meals were served imaginatively on a wide rectangular wooden board, the fries in a separate little tin can. 

Alongside, I sampled two cocktails: a peach margarita (juicy bits of peach down the bottom, only half the rim dipped in salt - a thoughtful touch for female drinkers) and a Ya Maan, which contained fresh apple, Bacardi, creme de cassis, mint and lime. Both cocktails were insanely good - in fact, good enough to counter my poutine misery. 

Amigo

3 Local Shopping Centre, Masjid Moth, Greater Kailash 2, New Delhi

011 2921 6220   contactus@myamigo.asia    http://myamigo.asia

There’s nothing like a bit of over-sensationalisation, caps and multiple punctuation marks to pique my interest. Some months ago I stumbled across the headline “Amigo was ROBBED!!!!” on a blog. I clicked, picturing Martin Short in a sombrero held up at gunpoint on the Delhi Metro. Turns out, it was a blogger lamenting the restaurant Amigo hadn’t been awarded Best Mexican in some Delhi food guide, the honour instead going to some Tex Mex imposter.

Amigo, you see, is the Real Deal. You won’t find no tacos and nachos on the menu - rather, more authentic delights such as tamales, poblano chillies and mole.

Amigo has been open just shy of a year, in a little area in Greater Kailash 2 that’s now simply swimming with restaurants: Smokehouse Grill and Mainland China are just a few steps away.  

Amigo’s decor is trendy modern: thankfully, not a wall-mounted sombrero to be seen. The place was virtually empty on my first visit, although I’ve discovered that’s often the case as we prefer to eat at the ungodly early hour of 8.30pm, rather than 11pm like locals. There was a forlorn-looking group of people sitting on sofas near the door who turned to look at us hopefully when we walked in; turned out they were wandering troubadours, who later serenaded us with Jesus-loves-you style tunes. 

We were directed upstairs to a maisonette level overlooking the (almost empty) bar on the ground floor and opted to start with guacamole. I’ve seen a few entree-as-performance-art spectacles in my time - such as the flaming kebab served on the spear, the Peking duck table assemblage - but this one was a heap of fun, and presented no danger of burning off one’s eyebrows. A waiter wheeled a tray of avocados, tomatoes and onions over to our table and proceeded to make the guacamole in front of us, theatrically slicing, scooping and mashing the avocado over a bowl of ice. Impressive - and extremely tasty.

Next up was a fajita of shredded lamb (there are also chicken and vegetarian options). The portion size was substantial - enough for more than one person to tackle with ease. The meat was meltingly tender, while the salad and rice accompaniments fresh and filling.

My pan-seared duck breast with tamarind mole sauce was equally successful: the sauce was smoky and complex and without the sweetness I so dislike, while the duck was, unusually, properly cooked, with all the fat rendered off but without sacrificing juiciness or flavour.

Unfortunately my second visit was somewhat less successful. With an out-of-towner to entertain, we headed back to Masjid Moth hoping for a few hours of solid catching up, but stumbled across Amigo’s salsa class night. Who knew? The DJ, not far from our table on the maisonette level, was in full flight, as couples shimmied nervously around the dancefloor downstairs. The music was so loud we couldn’t even hear each other sneeze, so we gave up on trying to converse and just stared dejectedly at our plates for much of the meal. 

Luckily, the food made up for it. This time, the guacamole not available, I tried the Pepper Popper. Cute name, but why not just say Chillies Rellenos and extend the authentic theme? I fell in love with stuffed poblano chillies on a recent trip to California, and sadly this one didn’t square up, although, to be fair, Colibri set the bar sky-high.

The rest of the meal, thankfully, was as good as the first visit, the quesadillas fresh and cheesy, the fajitas tender and flavoursome. 

Amigo, the management informs me, is undergoing somewhat of a transformation. The interior is being revamped while the menu is being extended to include Mediterranean and Lebanese options, although will continue to serve authentic Mexican delights. The guacamole, I’m assured, will never be taken off. 

(image courtesy of Amigo restaurant)

Swagath

14 Defence Colony Market, Defence Colony

011 2433 7538     swagath.in

Other branches in Noida, Malviya Nagar and Naraina

Diwali earlier this month was my very first diwali in India, and I must confess I didn't really know what to do. So I asked a local friend: what are you meant to do for diwali?

I dunno, she shrugged, looking bored. Eat. Visit people. Have people round. Eat sweets. Drink.

Aren't you meant to clean the house? I asked.

Oh yeah, she said, brightening. The maids do that.

As it turned out, Diwali Day saw us nursing sizeable hangovers after an impromptu Defence Colony balcony drinks party ran till the early hours. For a festive lunch I suggested Swagath, Delhi's home of coastal cuisine, as I was feeling nostalgic: after all, my parents are from vaguely coastal regions down south. My hangover partner quickly agreed, I think picturing spicy prawn curry helping to break down errant alcohol cells.

Swagath, decked out in festive garlands of marigolds (it doesn't normally look like this) for the occasion, is considered one of Delhi's best seafood restaurants. It serves cuisine from India's southern and western coastal areas of Maharashtra, Karnataka and Kerala.


Swagath looks small from the front, but goes up three floors and through to rooms in adjoining shopfronts. It is also fairly swish, and we very quickly felt sheepish for underdressing. I expected Swagath to be most like Bombay's Trishna or Mahesh Lunch Home, but I suppose it needs to cater for local tastes as well, so has extensive sections covering North Indian and Chinese cuisines. 

I went there with a hankering for some butter-pepper-garlic crab, but in the end opted for the classic hangover pairing of beer and biriyani, while my partner chose the Swagath Special Fish: a choice of different fish (rawas, pomfret, lady fish, prawns, and more) marinated in Mangalorean spices and cooked in a tamarind red chili paste. 

Also on the 'Mangalorean' sectin of the menu are options for fish fry (again, a number of choices including pomfret and bombil), the coconut gravied fish gassi, fish Malabari, Chettinad specials (chicken, mutton, prawns and more) and accompaniments such as the south Indian dosa and appam.

We began with the Platter-Ke-Khas, a platter of four different tandoori kebabs: two chicken, one mutton, one fish (although we substituted the fish for a chicken). The kebabs were delicious: soft on the inside, crusty and caramelised on the outside. 

Then came the fish. Pomfret wasn't available so the restaurant took the initiative to serve rawas instead. I knew it would be spicy but I didn't know it would be so spicy my eyes would water just looking at it. It was bright, glossy red: the colour of warning, the colour of weatherbeaten and potent chilies. 

Still, my partner dug in and in between gulps of beer (water is useless when your mouth is on fire because it just moves the capsaicin around and makes it burn even more) pronounced the dish to be eminently satisfying: deep, rich flavours that didn't mask the juiciness and flavour of the fish despite the heat. And importantly, not oily at all.

I didn't have any of the fish but stole some of his fluffy appam - a bowl-shaped pancake made from fermented rice flour - which was heaven.

Eventually my chicken biriyani arrived, tasting overwhelmingly of ghee and cloves, not that that's a bad thing. And there was a massive quantity, more than two people could comfortably manage. It was the same story with the fish, so we got them bagged up to take home.

Turns out, they lasted two more meals. Now that's the diwali lunch that truly keeps on giving.

Le Cafe

3rd floor, N-1, Ravi Bajaj, N Block Market, Greater Kailash 1, New Delhi

011 4173 1035/1036    lecafe.diva@gmail.com

11.30am - 9.30pm daily

If I have an afternoon to myself, GK1’s N Block Market is one of my favourite stops. First it’s straight to Full Circle to check out the new releases, then next door to Urban Shore to inhale deeply and pretend, for just a few minutes, that I’m at Space NK in London. Then it’s to Ravi Bajaj  - not for the menswear, but rather up to the third floor to Le Cafe.

Le Cafe cemented its place at the top of my Delhi cafe list on my very first visit there; each subsequent meal has not changed that.

Firstly, there’s the ambience. Up high, full of light and surrounded by greenery, it’s an oasis away from the dust and noise and rickshaws - but is still connected to all that, thanks to big  windows looking down over the market. There’s no self-conscious Indo-trendy decor, rather, it’s clean, relatively bare, neutral and calm. Banquettes line two walls, while there are intimate tables scattered throughout. 

The menu is simple and clearly aimed towards women, with its offerings of mostly salads, sandwiches, pastas and light meat dishes. It is mainly authentically Italian but with a lighter, cleaner touch. 

After you order they bring you a basket of these delightful baby bread rolls and a carafe of olive oil. If you are lucky enough to be on your own, you get the whole basket to yourself. There’s no roll counting here.

Usually I order a salad, such as the Asian sesame chicken salad, the wholesome veggie salad or the prawn salad, however on my latest visit I opted for the Saigon Chicken, one of the few dishes that strays from Le Cafe’s Mediterranean roots. 

It consists of slices of chicken panfried in a mixture of pounded lemongrass, ginger and a heap of chili, then slid straight out of the pan and onto the plate. Or that’s how I imagine it, at least. To the side there’s a little pile of spinach and some batons of carrots, sprinkled in sesame seeds. It looks a bit murky, the colour of algaed seawater - or perhaps closer to the colour of the water at the Haus Khaz tank -  but each bite is juicy and exploding with flavour. It is a fantastic dish and the very one that spearheaded my Le Cafe love.

Desserts, displayed in a glass case at the front, include blueberry cheesecake, tiramisu and chocolate brownies, but my tip is to head straight for the New York cheesecake. I don’t know how faithful the recipe is to New York, but this Dilliwala version is priceless. For starters, it actually appears made in a kitchen as opposed to some laboratory (most cakes are so even, so uniform and covered in some chemically-induced foam masquerading as cream, that I am convinced they are made by zombies). It actually gets gooier the closer you get to the middle of the cake - or the tip of the slice. It also has a wonderfully creamy mouth feel - and the crumb bottom is deliciously buttery and soft and uneven. You can almost taste the knuckle prints.

While Le Cafe’s food is thanks to the minds behind GK2’s Diva restaurant, the cafe is owned by Ravi Bajaj, which will in coming days unveil its latest venture, a tapas and wine bar called Gusto, just one floor down from Le Cafe. Food and wine will be faithfully Italian, and it will be open from midday through till 12.30am.