Zijah Sherwani

Don’t let the name fool you. Rude Chef is anything but abrasive, and their portions are generous. Tucked into Humayunpur’s beloved Asian food hub, it serves up contemporary Southeast Asian cuisine with a confident vision: think seafood-forward palettes which are surprisingly like comfort food, co-owner Lanchui Lungleng’s Manipuri roots showing up in local spices, and a set-up easy on the eyes. As you enter, you’ll notice one of two things. The bamboo seating, pen-sketch artwork on the walls and warm yellow lighting make it comfortable for long meals and conversation, with enough space for large groups too. Or the madly popular house black sticky rice wine on almost every single table. Rose-hued, gently fermented and lightly sweet, it works well, with an excellent selection of quantities. Seafood lovers should definitely make room for the grilled prawns in truffle and basil sauce or the generous seafood curry platter served with rice. I’ll go out on a limb to say that the non-seafood dishes deserve more attention. The braised pork belly is buttery, easy on the teeth, and prepared in perilla sauce, served alongside a tahini dip and stir-fry vegetables. Buff skewers marinated in mountain pepper are soft and spicy, and pair well with the buff salad, where beef carpaccio sits over a bed of lettuce, tossed in citrusy flavours, gochujang, sirarakhong chilli and truffle sauce. Overall, Rude Chef delivers polished cooking and prices that feel fair for the quality on the table. It’s an

For many in Delhi, Mizo Diner was the first introduction to home-style Northeastern food, its thalis and rice beer shaping familiarity with the cuisine. With it shut on Sundays for church, I ended up at Mahelal’s. Opened in October 2024, it sits right before the main Humayunpur market – easy to spot. The layout feels more like a drawing room than a restaurant when I enter. There’s a projector playing music videos, a mix of tables and couches, and even some games. I found Mahelal roasting coffee for a customer, speaking about his interest in bringing Northeastern coffee into the mainstream. He sources his beans from Nagaland, a discovery he made while running a café in Manipur. The menu itself leans into Manipuri flavours: ingredients like black rice, sirarakhong hathei chilli and mountain pepper turn up everywhere across the menu, from chicken skewers to pastas. For the Manipuri thali, I went with the duck curry. It came with four sides: sinju (a salad with a tangy, spicy dressing made from roasted red chillies, fermented fish (ngari), gram flour and roasted perilla seeds or sesame), eromba (a chutney of bamboo shoot, potatoes, tomato, fermented fish and chillies), boiled vegetables and dal. It’s a bold, spice-forward plate with fermented flavours that doesn’t soften for unfamiliar palates. To finish, there’s heimang tea (sumac berry), tangy like tamarind, which I was told helps digest the meal. On Sundays, they host a post-service community buffet priced at ₹699. You can com

The Grammar Room’s a place you return to over and over again. It’s stood the test of time; it’s got great ambience; the food’s lovely; what more could you want? It’s the sort of restaurant that becomes part of your going-out vocabulary when you’re sick of trying out new experimental stuff and just want to pass your lunchtime in sophisticated peace.  The interiors feel vaguely Moorish. The biggest draw’s the sun, which streams in from every corner, and their little patio, which looks out onto the forested ridge. Folks come here for dates, for whiling away their work-from-home days, or in large groups typically interested in downing as many G&Ts as they can.  The menu’s playful. Standouts include the Turkish eggs (the in-house labneh’s killer), the summer rolls, the avocado toast, and the chicken katsu sandwich. End with pancakes. Time Out tip:  Come before 11:30 if you want the best seats and a quieter table. Weekends fill up fast, and service can slow down when it’s packed.