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The Oberoi, New Delhi, standing tall and severe, is an island between epochs, so to say. On one side, there is the modern city's emblematic sprawl of a golf course. On the other is the frozen icon of an ancient capital, Humayun's tomb. In a more microcosmic manner, within the hotel too, there are relics, trapped in time, beloved of the past but disdained by the present. And yet, what better time than the 50th year of existence to bridge the gap?
The golden jubilarian on Zakir Hussain Marg has been a favourite with generations of Delhi's grand elite. Its restaurants were venues where the rich and famous trooped in for sumptuous lunches and stylish dinners. So to allow the flavours and fragrances of the dead years to waft into the living present, the hotel is plating up the past at Threesixty°, its round-the-clock restaurant. Go there and you will have as an option the new Iconic menu that offers signature dishes from restaurants like Taj, Kandahar, La Rochelle, Esmeralda and Cafe Chinoise which no longer exist except in the memories of contented foodies.
Leave the details about these to the loquacious chef who conceptualised the project. "I present the dishes exactly as they were done years ago," says Soumya Goswami, executive chef and chef de cuisine. Uh, so you have photographs of them, you ask. "No, no," he smiles expansively, relishing the mystery he is about to unfold. "You see, every chef keeps a diary in which he sketches his dish and the recipe. The Oberoi is one of the few hotels where chefs have to surrender their diaries when they leave. I too will have to leave my papers behind," he says. Chefs from abroad were more methodical and open about their recipes than their Indian counterparts, Goswami says. Their cooking was more standardised too. Also, they were more innovative - Indians are reluctant to experiment with traditional recipes.
Goswami pored through stacks of ageing diaries, now housed in the archives at Oberoi Maidens in old Delhi. He and his team went through them minutely to see how the dishes were prepared and presented. For instance, in 1969 an unnamed chef at the Taj restaurant had prescribed capers for the popular Prawn Cocktail. "I wouldn't use capers today," says Goswami. Yet when the dish arrives at our table, 45 years later, it does indeed come with capers. One difference is that the fat and grease have been reduced. Some recipes that used venison and partridges have not been taken up for revival. The authenticity of the preparations has been checked with old regulars like Max India Chairman Analjit Singh and Anand Group Chairman Deep C Anand.
The soup from the Iconic menu comes in French-made lion-head bowls that look more like teapots of old. This, Goswami says, preserves the heat best. The Prawn Cocktail arrives in a quaint cut-glass goblet that speaks of an era long gone. In the diary of the Taj chef, the sketch of the dish specified this particular goblet for service. Goswami and his team took an expedition into a cavernous hole in The Oberoi to find the glass. There, ignoring the passage from the swinging 1960s to the Whatsapp age, lie remnants of crockery from the hotel's old restaurants. When a larger number are needed, replicas are ordered. "We rely on Indian companies to make replacements since the foreign companies from whom we ordered our crockery and cutlery no longer make these designs," is Goswami's helpful interjection.
Integrity to ingredients, preparations and presentation is crucial in this endeavour, which will run past the jubilee year with a new menu every month. Many items are sourced from abroad as it was then - lamb from New Zealand, pork from the UK, vegetables from Marche Bastille in Paris. And yes, onions come from Azad Market in Delhi and why not, for the Indian red onion can more than stand its own against the bland white onion from western shores. The effort is to ensure that a time traveller sitting at the table will be hard put to differentiate between the fares separated by decades.
A DASH OF HISTORY
How do The Oberoi's resurrected dishes sit on the modern palate? See our thoughts on some of the dishes from the Iconic menu
FRENCH ONION SOUP
(Taj, 1966, Rs 550):
The broth is thick. That's because it has simmered on a slow fire for over eight hours. Onion slices swim in the bowl. But that does not throw up a strange taste in your mouth. It's a warm soup, and is quite filling - more than just an appetiser.
PRAWN COCKTAIL
(Taj, 1969, Rs 1,600):
This is a Delhi favourite from the 1980s. Seafood is flown in from the south every morning. And the nicely-done prawns carry that freshness. The lettuce comes from the Oberoi farm on the outskirts of Delhi. It too manages to preserve its fresh feel. The mayonnaise dressing is thick and a little tangy. The small egg slices with extra yellow yoke may make you wonder. But then Goswami says there is a special chicken feed that can turn the yoke yellower.
LOBSTER THERMIDOR
(La Rochelle, 1982, Rs 3,000):
This dish certainly is not for the fainthearted. These many calories will require a 10-km run to burn off. Butter has been used extensively and the lobster chunks actually swim in it. It is served with rice. At the end, apart from feeling guilty about all the calories inside you, you begin to wonder if the lobster should have had a few more flavours - the way it is cooked in coastal India. This one obviously has been made for the Delhi population that loves its butter chicken and stuffed paranthas served with butter.
CHICKEN A LA KIEV
(Taj, 1970, Rs 1,350):
The moment you cut into the harmless looking piece of chicken covered in batter, a surprise awaits you: butter oozes out of it like water from coconut. The trick is to let the butter flow out and then dig into the chicken. The meat is just rightly done - neither under- nor over-cooked. The pinkness of the meat is inviting. Half a cut can sustain you for the day. The dish actually comes with two of these pieces - only for the hard-eating Dilliwala.
NARGISI KOFTA CURRY
(Mughal Room, 1971, Rs 1,250):
This Indian dish has two boiled eggs wrapped in mutton mince, like scotch eggs, then deep fried and served in a thick red curry. The tamarind in the curry is unmistakable. At times you wonder if the dish is trying to achieve too much. Try it with tandoori rotis.
ASPARAGUS SOUP WITH TRUFFLE OIL
(Taj, 1970, Rs 650):
When the only calorific horror appears to be the oil floating on the inviting viridian-coloured soup in a lion-head tureen, your senses rest easy. The tongue is especially pleased with the rich creamy taste of pureed asparagus from Amsterdam and the rich fragrance of truffle. But this is a dish from the past and is loaded with butter and cream.
FRESH FIGS AND ROQUEFORT CHEESE
(Taj, circa 1970, Rs 900):
The presentation is pleasing, wedges of figs in the embrace of Roquefort all in the shadow of crispy lettuce laced with a mild vinaigrette. The figs have been caramelised, their sweetness sharpened by a dash of aceto balsamico. Married with the salty, yielding Roquefort, the figs set off a scintillation of tastes in the mouth.
GRATINATED MUSHROOM CREPE
(Vintage dish, but not on current menu):
This vegetarian dish comes along with the lobster thermidor for the non-vegetarian diner in the next seat. That is a travesty of joint dining. Even as your knife and fork slice across the impossibly thin vegetarian crepe, your eyes are on that luscious red thing on the other plate. Yes, the vegetarian mushroom flavours are just right, and the wafer of dehydrated orange, all vegetarian, is heavenly, but the lobster looks like heaven, smells like pheromone and well, must taste much much better than this La Rochelle vegetarian item.
CHONKE MATTER AND MASALA DAHI
(Kandahar, 1996, Rs 850):
How could peas cooked in an Indian idiom taste so good? And why had we thought hung curd was nothing more than less watery curd? This dish is delectable, the peas tender and sweet and in perfect amalgamation with the mild masalas and tangy tomatoes. The curd with its mustard and chili enlivens the taste buds - it aroused my normally non-vegetarian tongue from the stupor of having to contend with vegetarian fare. What can testify more to the peas' goodness than when the non-vegetarian diner on the other seat reaches over and takes a spoonful - for his second helping?
GUCCHI PULAO
(Again not on current menu, but prepared according to an old recipe): Each grain of rice bursts with a rainbow of flavours. You taste the robust spices and a lot of love in the dish. The morel mushrooms, with their honeycombed goodness, add their own delicate aroma and tone to the whole. If you must do without meaty rice dishes like biryanis and fried rice, you cannot do better than this dish.
