Anoushka Rajesh

When was the last time you sat at a dinner table to enjoy an unhurried meal without watching Netflix or furtively swiping through your phone?  Me, I can’t remember. It’s shameful, but I can’t remember.  I hadn’t really thought too much about remedying that until the supper club craze enveloped Delhi. Dining out’s always had a slightly hectic edge, and sometimes feels like more trouble than it’s worth: making a reservation, choosing a dish from an often too-long menu, talking loud enough to be heard over the chatter of strangers sitting nearby. The idea of Supper clubs seemed fun – a way to meet new people, make conversation, and eat set dishes that you know for a fact haven’t been mass-produced. Jimmno immediately caught my eye for a bunch of reasons. Run by Guddu, a 64-year-old father residing in Vasant Kunj, the supper club’s named after jimmno, the Marwari word that means eating together – and it’s the ethos that Guddu hopes diners feel every time he hosts them. ‘For me, cooking’s a kind of madness. It’s not supposed to be designed for shortcuts or spectacle,’ says Guddu. Ingredients here are handpicked and fresh. The flour and spices are ground at home, and the ghee is made in-house. Every dish is slow-cooked with a patience that even most households find difficult to manage.  My evening at Guddu’s home was hosted by him, plus his two daughters, Mridula and Vipula. Everything about the meal was Rajasthani themed – from the decor in his living room, to the overall atmosphe

When you step into Hana Hoi’s hole-in-the-wall restaurant in Hauz Khas Market, the first thing that strikes you is just how homely it feels. With only a couple of tables and minimal decor, the open kitchen at the back is where the sole chef works her magic. Hana says she has only two goals with Little Saigon – to bring the authentic taste of her home country, Vietnam, to Delhi, and to feed people well. Most of her customers are people who’ve visited Vietnam and come to her seeking the same flavours.  The bánh mì is fresh and crunchy, filled with tender meat and balanced with delicate, vibrant flavours. The summer rolls are simple, but stuffed with herbs that elevate each bite unexpectedly – probably because they haven’t been Indianised like most other restaurants would’ve.  The pho, too, is everything you’d hope for in a good bowl: a hearty, slow-cooked chicken broth, deeply flavourful and comforting without being weighed down by unnecessary spices. The chicken is cooked well and garnished with fresh Vietnamese herbs that Hana sources daily. An ex-five-star hotel chef, Hana clearly knows her way around a kitchen and is confident enough to run the entire operation on her own, without sous chefs. Little Saigon doesn’t serve chowmein, momos, or other generic, vaguely East Asian dishes you’d typically find at a ‘pan-Asian’ restaurant in Delhi. What it does offer is authentic Vietnamese cuisine, and it absolutely nails it. Skip dessert and opt for the Vietnamese coffee instead. It