Angad Srivastava

Sukiya Tokyo Bowls, housed in a corner of Satyam Cineplex at Nehru Place, has the strange distinction of being the lone Indian outlet of the hugely-popular Japanese chain Sukiya. At lunchtime, the restaurant is packed with an even mix of young couples dressed in anime hoodies, office workers with lanyards clipped at their waists, and clusters of Japanese salaryman-types dressed in suits, hunched over bowls of ramen. By evening, students and families will follow. For now, the only empty spot is a barstool at the table along the window, looking out at the frenetic activity in India’s biggest electronics market.  I am seated next to a middle-aged man who seems a little out of place. I find myself overwhelmed browsing through the menu, and I choose to ask my neighbour if he has been here before. 'I’m a regular,' my new friend replies, and so begins an increasingly enthusiastic conversation. Prasanto writes about food on his Twitter account ever since he stopped doing so for a newspaper – and I’m feeling immensely grateful to the universe for granting me such a perfect seatmate. As we wait on ordering, Prasanto tells me it’s policy to delay taking orders during busy times, but that food comes out superfast once they do – he explains that the Japan External Trade Organisation and other Japanese businesses have offices nearby.  I flip idly through the menu, enjoying the bright images of every single dish, the inimitably Japanese typography, and the options to customise portion sizes

It’s 5pm, and the upstairs level at Zuru Zuru is quiet. The lunch rush is over, the kitchen tidied up, and the staff have eaten their meals, which they did huddled together at the other end of the shared table from me, laughing and gossiping. Chef Kiran Tamang, a Delhi boy born-and-raised, is looking thoughtfully into the distance, preparing a riveting little TED talk for me on the formulaic beauty and infinite complexity of ramen and its five pillars. Downstairs, the 12-seater dining room is preparing to serve a menu of thoughtfully-crafted toasts and teas.  As Chef Kiran and I discuss little details – ‘that translucent lemon with the prawn was fermented, was it not?’, ‘how do you guys get your black fungus to be so tender and innately flavourful?’, ‘did the tantanmen use a different noodle than the others?’ – it becomes obvious that the attention to detail at Zuru Zuru goes obsessively deep, but in a way that gets members of the team so excited they don’t mind chatting about it even between services.  Founder-chefs Navika Kapoor and Hitein Puri have a big hand in building this culture, where almost anyone can pitch menu ideas ahead of ZZ’s 6-monthly changes. Guest care goes as far as tacitly serving thicker, heartier noodles during winter months. Even without this context, it becomes obvious when dining at ZZ that it’s a special place. The amuse bouche teases the ingredients and flavour profiles of the season, and no two items that follow feel repetitive or uninspired.  We