Nostalgia in an ice-cream cone

Nirula's is today struggling to stay relevant in the Delhi food scene

In March 2001, I accompanied my parents to collect my school report card with serious trepidation. As soon as I saw my final tally, I let out a sigh of relief: I was nowhere near the top of my class, but my score had made me eligible for a free scoop of ice cream and a congratulatory stamp on the report card at Nirula’s. 

Most people who lived in Delhi in the 1980s, ’90s and early 2000s have similar stories to share. It was an integral part of the good life in the city. Visitors from outside were promptly taken to Nirula’s to show how hip the city was.

Today, Nirula’s no longer has that pride of place. Trendier restaurants have upstaged it. 

The Nirula family, perhaps the first to spell their surname with an “i”, came to Delhi in 1928 from Patiala. Though they were from a family of medical practitioners, brothers Lakshmi Chand Nirula and Madan Gopal Nirula decided to venture into the hospitality business simply because they could not find a good place to eat out. 

“Our fathers chose Connaught Place because they felt this was a place that could flourish,” recalls Lalit Nirula, Lakshmi Chand’s son. Thus began Hotel India in 1934, a small hotel with 12 rooms, a restaurant and a bar. There was no looking back after that.

“We changed as Delhi changed,” says Lalit, and the various models that the Nirulas dabbled in stand testament to this. 

Thus, in the early 1940s, the brothers started their first restaurant in Connaught Place. This was when the Americans had joined World War II and there was an influx of expatriates from European countries and the US. “It had a live band and cabaret, a first for any standalone restaurant in India. We even had an Austrian manager who later went on to become the first manager of The Claridges,” says Lalit. 

“Our fathers lay stress on the people who worked with us and that was a norm we carried forward,” says Deepak, Madan Gopal’s son. It was the two cousins who took forward the Nirula’s legacy once their fathers retired.

As Partition came, this stylish restaurant suffered since the atmosphere was solemn and families were struggling to make ends meet. 

The turnaround in family’s fortunes came in 1950 in the form of the Brasserie , a cafeteria-style, self-service restaurant where guests would pick what they wanted to eat and pay at the end of the queue. It was also the first time that spoons with long handles were introduced in restaurants. Such was the novelty that entire batches of these metal spoons went missing within weeks. “In fact, we later started inscribing our spoons with ‘Stolen from Nirula’s’,” chuckles Deepak.

It wasn’t until the 1970s that Nirula’s took the shape and form of what it became best-known for: fast-food and ice creams. The iconic L-Block space in Connaught Place, part of which was owned by the family and the other part leased, housed the Chinese Room, the Pegasus bar, the ice-cream parlour and, eventually, Potpourri, with its famous and one-of-a-kind salad bar. 

This was when Lalit and Deepak took an active interest in the business, after acquiring degrees in hospitality from Cornell University. “The Nirula’s pastry shop and Wenger’s were in friendly competition with each other. You either liked one or the other, but never both,” recalls Maryyam H Reshii, a food writer and critic.

Pizzas, hot dogs and footlongs were a novelty in India at this time. “I now cringe to think that we loved that pizza that Nirula’s offered. In fact, when I first tasted an authentic, Italian pizza, I thought it wasn’t right that a pizza should taste this way,” laughs Reshii. But all that middle-income families in India aspired to was an American way of life and Nirula’s was the first point of contact for this cultural shift.

The ice-cream parlour was perhaps the most successful of the lot and its various flavours took on a persona of their own. India’s who’s who had their personal favourites. Rajiv Gandhi, for instance, had a particular liking for the Rum & Raisin ice cream. 

“The reason our ice creams, as well as the entire chain, did so well was because both the brothers put their heart and in research and development,” says Jagdish Narain Kushwaha, a former Nirula’s employee and now the CEO of BTW India, a popular fast food chain.

Kushwaha speaks with a hint of nostalgia and pride when he talks of Nirula’s of “those days”. He was one of the few employees who stayed on with the group after the family disinvested and sold all of its business in 2006 for Rs 90 crore to Navis Capital, a Malaysian private equity fund. 

“We honestly felt that it was time for us to retire,” recalls Deepak. Lalit believes that a changing ethos in the hospitality industry had a large role to play in this decision too. “There was a new kind of corrupt system that we were not willing to be part of,” he explains. “It was purely a business decision and neither of us regrets it.”

Kushwaha, though, says he expressed his unhappiness the day the sale was announced to the staff. “Lalit and Deepak made all decisions and we always trusted their judgement. This was the only time I told them how I thought they had made a mistake. I remember how Deepak just smiled and walked away,” he recalls. The two cousins never ventured into the hospitality industry after this. “We were serious about our retirement and chose not to start something new,” says Lalit. 

Many believe it was this decision that turned the tide against Nirula’s. “Once the family exited the venture, there was some disenchantment among the Nirula’s regulars. This was no longer a family restaurant run by a family,” says Reshii. To Navis Capital’s credit, it did try to modernise the processes and make the menu more contemporary. “At the time, we were trying to target a younger audience and did away with a lot of menu items that had nostalgia value but would not sell as much,” explains Samir Kuckreja, founder & CEO of Tasanaya Hospitality, who was a minority co-investor with Navis from 2006 to 2012. Among these was the South Indian cuisine section, which used a lot of resources but did not bring in enough revenue. 

During his tenure, Nirula’s expanded from 35 outlets in two cities to 85 outlets in eight cities. But the iconic L-Block space was gone after the lease for a part of the property expired. 

Kuckreja exited the venture in 2012 to start a hospitality-driven company of his own. At the time of his exit, according to a 2012 VCC Circle article, Nirula’s posted a loss of Rs 9.8 crore on revenue of Rs 73.3 crore. The revival and modernisation of Potpourri restaurants and the salad bar had not entirely succeeded. While the Potpourri chain still exists, it has abundant competition in the casual dining category it operates in.

An old wait-staff who prefers he not be named says that a legacy chain such as Nirula’s cannot operate in the “new world”. “If Nirula’s has to succeed, it must do so in a completely new manner. No one can replicate the way the family worked for the chain. No one can be as invested.” 

Navis eventually sold its stake to A2Z Excursions, a privately-held company involved in the hotels and real estate business , in 2012. The current proprietors were unavailable for comment. 

Nirula’s seems to have found a tiny, forgettable corner in Delhi’s restaurant universe, visited once in a while to relive the good old days.

An old couple, presumably in the 60s, sits in a corner at the K-Block restaurant in Connaught Place, sharing the popular Hot Chocolate Fudge with relish.

“Par ab woh baat nahi rahi (The old charm is gone),” says the woman. “We come here to relive our youth. But Nirula’s is not our first choice when we eat out,” says her husband. 

Outside, a family walks past the restaurant to head to a new ice-cream parlour across the street. The flavour of the season has changed.

The erstwhile Nirula’s restaurants in L-Block, Connaught Place. Photo: Dalip Kumar