Mumbai had the Malvani restaurants, low-key places where astonishingly good food just about made up for the surly service. Calcutta has the no-nonsense prix fixe canteens in Gariahat, where the portions are sumptuous, the fish of the day is always fresh.
But Delhi’s big lure has always been the state bhawans — decorated in formica and shiny curtains, radiating a proud Shabby Sarkariness, repositories of good, cheap food. Students love them, and so do Delhi expats. It’s hard to spend over Rs 500 per head at any of the bhawans, and it’s possible to have a filling, good meal within Rs 100.
Andhra Bhawan is still the great-grandaddy of the bhawans. It’s always crowded, the waiters bark at neophytes unaccustomed to sharing tables, the décor is rubbish. But over the decades, they have perfected their thalis, and added a richly flavoured prawn curry to the classic fish. The spice quotient is high, the food authentic — just don't order the idlis and vadas. Vegetarians swear by the beetroot sabzi. Sundays are packed, with long queues for the Hyderabad-style biryani. Also try Tamil Nadu Bhawan’s less celebrated but respectable South Indian thalis.
Patrick at Goa Niwas plans to bring in “entertainment” by September, and while the idea of crooners and jazz bands from Mapusa or Margao is tempting, the man himself is as much entertainment as you need. Goa Niwas is really for carnivores nostalgic for classic shack food — and it’s miles better than the more upmarket Souza Lobo. The kingfish (or white pomfret) curry, the prawns peri peri and the green mango pickle that accompany the meal are amazing. If you want Goan red rice instead of basmati, call the day before, and be aware that pork is served only when the weather’s good. This is also one of the last places in Delhi where the music includes Elvises Presley and Costello, The Andrews Sisters and Sinatras Frank and Nancy.
Orissa Niwas: Not as well-known as either Andhra Bhawan or Goa Niwas, this is a favourite place for home-cooked comfort food, in part because the staff seem so pleased to see unfamiliar faces. Orissa Niwas is cheerfully run-down, but the food is stellar. The curries — fish, meat and unusual vegetables like parwal and the very spicy, sharp flavours of gongura — are light and tangy. Sundays are special: Orissa’s cooks claim that they taught Bengal how to cook, and eating the kosha mangsho (mutton cooked in mustard oil) here, I could believe it.
Sikkim House and Nagaland House: Go to the first for your momo fix — the only serious challenge to Sikkim House’s reliably tender, juicy dumplings comes from Yeti in Hauz Khas Village. And Sikkim House’s dipping sauce is fiery from the chillis, but still flavoursome. Nagaland House, likewise, now has competition from Nagaland Kitchen in Hauz Khas, but it’s cheaper, the waiters are friendlier and while the menu is not as extensive, I love the pork curries done village-style. Ask for the dried fish chutney, but fish neophytes should stay away from the fermented fish, occasionally available on the menu — it’s a strong and judiciously acquired taste!
The Bhawans are no-frills, by definition, but there’s a reason why eating as the guest of the state has become a Delhi tradition. Just remember to pay your bill, unlike the Bihar MLAs who have run up unpaid bills of lakhs at Bihar Niwas. The man who runs the canteen still offers a mean litti and good sattu, but if he’s a little surly these days, blame it on the lawmakers.
Nilanjana Roy is a Delhi-based writer