Aarna Raj

Want to eat healthy food that doesn't feel like it's shoving clean ingredients down your throat with a smirk? Nubo's your best bet. The bright, pastel-hued café – Instagrammable as hell – serves great food that HAPPENS to be good for you, instead of harping on about clean eating that's ultimately tasteless. The menu's massively customisable – it lets you pick your base, protein and sauces, which means you can be as virtuous or chaotic as you want. One of the better bowls is the Asian Grain variant (I customised mine with millet noodles, spicy chicken, baby spinach, peanut sauce, kimchi, and cucumber). The flavours work well – bold, nutty, slightly spicy, with enough depth to feel like a real meal.  The Harissa Wrap follows a similar formula: baby spinach, garlic toum, spicy broccoli, jalapeño feta and your choice of protein. The chicken is nicely done and the sauces bring some much-needed character, but the wrap doesn’t quite land the same punch as the bowl. It’s good, just not the kind of good that'll make you order it again. The drinks are decent. The Nubo Special Shaken Cold Coffee is their signature creation, shaken until frothy perfection, and they pull off fresh strawberry-coffee combination pretty well. Another standout is the Tropical Sunset: a mix of mango, pineapple, ginger, mint, beetroot powder and mulethi. It’s bright, refreshing and packed with flavour. Nubo's ultimately quite affordable, casual and approachable, somewhere you can grab a quick meal without worry

Part gallery, part workshop, Absynthe Design is a vintage electronics space in Saket that gives old tech a second life. Founded shortly after the COVID pandemic, the studio is driven by a simple philosophy: making broken things beautiful again. Set conveniently close to the Saket metro station, it’s a compact, carefully curated space that feels like a step back into an analogue era. The fact that it’s located in one of Saket’s less appreciated areas only adds to the appeal. What does it sell? Absynthe Design showcases a mix of functional design pieces and collectible objects made using old watches and vintage electronics.  Expect furniture, lighting and lamps, home décor, and custom-made jewellery and cuffs, alongside typewriters, radios, cameras, gramophones and a thoughtfully curated selection of watches. The aesthetic leans retro and industrial, with many pieces repurposed using metal and reclaimed components, making it as much a gallery as a showroom. Who is it for? Homeowners looking for statement pieces, architects and interior designers, design and art nerds, and collectors with a soft spot for vintage tech. Alternatively – anyone curious. Time Out tip: Visit on a weekday for a quieter browse, and make time to chat with founder Abhisek Basak, his story, and the journey behind many of the pieces.

You don’t so much enter Ikk Panjab as you’re very gently absorbed into it. A sort of sweet osmosis from the bustling marketplace to what feels like the drawing room of a posh Punjabi household – one that could be from either side of the border. Conversation is loud, the menu’s fairly familiar, and you’re cheerfully resigned to the fact that you’ll be laughed out of the room if you so much as bring up the word ‘calories’.  The restaurant’s aim is to bring back the flavours of undivided Punjab. The result’s an opulent, indulgent affair: Dohra Kebab (lamb and chicken mince, hand pounded spices, cooked over coal) is a winner – spicy, aromatic, deeply savoury, paired with sot khameeri rotis. The Patiala Kibti Chicken (marinated in yoghurt, topped with slivered almonds) is equally good and makes for a great starter. The butter chicken is very well done too.  The real standout’s the Shahi Bater Masala – quail, a treasured delicacy once only consumed by Punjab’s princely families. It’s outstandingly done here and I’ve never ever seen it on any other Punjabi restaurant’s menu either. The cocktails lean very overtly Indian, with spicy and sour notes – the Jamun Patrol’s a chatpata affair that I couldn’t help ordering two more of.  Service is warm – no stiff-upper-lipness of fine-dining, which is a relief, though prices are incredibly steep. There are sweet touches that all diners will appreciate – a Bunta soda machine, a soda section dedicated to nostalgic drinks, and vintage lamps and