Four distinguished friends, representing fabulously wealthy families of industrialists, hoteliers, and patrons of the arts and culture—Deepak Nirula, Nitan Kapoor, Ajay Shriram, and Sunil Kant Munjal—had been to the Doon School together as adolescents. They later formed an intimate group in Delhi to relive happy memories. What starts as a lark soon takes on a life of its own, becoming an exploration of 16 years of Delhi’s dining legacy, captured in the book Table For Four.
However, the niggling questions persist. Why should anyone else, the proverbial general reader, be interested in what they ate and made small talk over? Is the rating system useful for our use or just a pretentious garnish? Presenting 27 restaurant reviews, 10 signature recipes, culinary anecdotes, and reflective essays, the book is full of pleasant surprises. It has been conceived as a product with a long shelf life. The core comprises light-hearted yet serious reviews of restaurants where the ‘old boys’, still young at heart, met at regular intervals. Sometimes the meals are leisurely, and the diners systematically run through the menu. On other days, there is a time crunch, and both the food and reviews are fast—not junk, but rushed in the process.
One of the team members is a vegetarian, and this enriches the contents in a special way. The places visited range from exclusive clubs and members-by-invitation-only chambers in de luxe hotels to gentrified streetside eateries—not exactly the rustic dhaba of yore and lore, but popular spots flocked to by commoners who swear by the quality of the food.
The reader is transported to ethnic and specialty restaurants in the Imperial, the Oberoi, the Taj, and the Maurya, but Haldiram/Bikanerwala aren’t missed out either. Kwality in Connaught Place hits the sweet spot, blending nostalgia, Punjabi and Continental food, and an ambience lovingly preserved.
Food writers and curators provide historical context and review emerging trends. The essays by Anoothi Vishal, Ritu Dalmia, Suvir Saran, and Zorawar Kalra sparkle. Marit Sikka chips in with the often-forgotten club fare and Anglo-Indian cuisine. AD Singh and Anahita Dhondy offer insightful takes on ‘Bombay in Delhi’. Rohit Khattar, who has spawned more than one memorable restaurant in Delhi and cities like London and New York, contributes a compelling trip down memory lane recounting the birth of Indian Accent. In short, one is admitted into an illustrious gallery of who’s who in the realm of food in India, not only in its capital.
The bonus of recipes provided is quite substantial. Among these are gems like the easy-to-cook ginger pudding from the repertoire of the grand dame of Cordon Bleu cooking in India, Bhicoo Maneckshaw. The book is also a visual delight, carrying beautiful illustrations and photos that the authors captured. The style is minimalist; the suggestive colours are bright and joyous.
To return to the ratings: all the friends have travelled the world and tasted dishes at famous restaurants. They are well placed to compare what they were served. They awarded points separately, which were then totalled and recorded consensually. They were never harsh, even when the kitchen or service botched up. Seldom did the scores fall below five out of ten. At the top end, a perfect 10 remained elusive.
It is hard to imagine that this high-profile group could enter a restaurant in a starred hotel incognito and not be lavished with special care. Surprisingly, at times, they had to send back stale bread rolls or wilted greens. This, we are told, happened because the restaurant had outsourced these items to a friend’s outlets.
All in all, this is an exceptionally good food book. Candid, unpretentious, written with a light touch, and edited, illustrated, and produced excellently. Don’t judge it as a corporate gift. It is a veritable collector’s item—a goldmine to dip in time and again.