A khichdri of surprises—here’s Cafe Lota

I wish to begin with a disclaimer; I walked into Cafe Lota and was immediately smitten. I have visited too many cafes and dhabas next to picture-perfect waterfalls or misty mountains to list Lota as one of the most visually pleasing places. It is pretty, but its USP lies in the fact that one can have a conversation while eating there. My pet peeve in this city has been one; unless it is a five-star cafe—with sleep-inducing music—one is reduced to playing Chinese whispers at any other decent cafe. Delhi seems to have a mandate which prohibits coffee and conversation together. The second best thing about the cafe? The people who run it. “Cafe Lota is run by four partners. I am, sort of, the only working partner. There are three other first-generation entrepreneurs involved. We started on the October 1, 2013, and the place was rented out by the museum after we bid on a government tender. We had already run a cafe in Gurgaon (Roots). For the longest time Cafe Lota was a normal chole-bhature, dosa canteen. The Museum Chairperson, Ruchira Ghosh, wanted to give the place a lease of life. It was her vision to start something more than a canteen. The only mandate we had was to serve regional Indian food,” says Rahul Dua.

Dua admits that his affair with all things tasty began in Kolkata when he was just a boy. Before that dousing anything in ketchup was akin to fine dining. Dua embodies what is best about Lota—he has a relaxed air about him, takes food seriously, but not too much to wring the fun out of it. He admits that his guru has been his mother and an assorted battalion of aunties and well-wishers who have helped beta carve out that simple and surprising menu. (Ghosh’s Bengali cook helped out too.) Dua’s concerns are similar to yours and mine; why pay a bomb to have tasty Indian food? Why not promote fresh food and local ingredients and keep the menu basic and beautiful? Based on these principles Lota was born. Those who cook and serve at Lota are pleasant individuals without any of the fancy training. Most of them are from the Kumaon region in Himachal where two of the other partners run a resort. “I believe that if you can make a yummy daal–chawal– subzi then you can take on anything you want to,” says the young Chef. The cooks at Lota can make a mean subzi.

Dua busies himself between the kitchen and doing rounds of tables when he can for a better understanding of his guests’ needs. He is perhaps the only Chef humble and patient enough to humour a woman (who cannot cook) talk of “interesting ingredients” such as jute leaf and aam ada (a kind of galangal). But back to the food. That’s point three.

“We were free to interpret regional Indian food according to our own terms. In most Indian restaurants, the gravy drowns the taste of individual ingredients. At Lota we wanted to let the ingredients retain their own flavours.” They indeed do. The spinach pav served with white butter is one of the simplest items on the menu, but boy-oh-boy its buttery wholesomeness went so well with the cold kapi. The coffee (from Chikmanglur) is served fresh, fresh, and hits the spot. Cafe Lota is the perfect spot for the first date, the official meeting, writing that article (if you are one of those fancy-pants, disciplined people who can write in open-air coffee shops despite its distractions), because it does not take any labels seriously. Yes, in its first few months allegedly all of Delhi’s artsy glitterati descended there—but do not let that discourage you.

Jokes aside; set in an eminently accessible part of the city (Ministry of Textile’s Arts and Crafts Museum), Dua and friends hoped Cafe Lota would turn out to be the next most-accessed canteen for Supreme Court lawyers. “It has quite some months and I am yet to spot a single individual in black coat,” admits he with a laugh. Without an iota of advertising crowds kept coming in; expats, Indians, families, couples—mainly the hungry crowd. And word travelled via guests— and here we are.

Again, about the main bit—the food. The beetroot chop (yummy and reminiscent of the street-side vegetable chops of Kolkata) served with a dollop of sour cream was what we started our courses with. A friend had devoted a minute-long rant to the palak patta chaat—fried spinach leaves sprinkled with chaat masala and served in a bowl of sweet curd, sauces, chutneys, boiled potatoes and topped with pomegranates. I tasted it and thought the rant was to a large extent justified, especially the fried spinach bit. It was a crunchy bit of heaven and reminded me of the of palak chaats I had devoured by platefuls in Jaipur. The maanch aar kumro checkhki with tamatar was interesting as well but I wish the fish was softer and less dry.

I am not sure whether I am going to be a huge fan of Lota’s quinoa upma simply because my feelings toward both quinoa and upma are, at best, ambiguous. I realise that I will always have the soft spot for pavs served at Cafe Lota, whether it is the keema-pav or the spinach pav with the white butter. And the coffee.

Next on my to-eat list are kukuri bhindi ka raita (spiced yoghurt with crispy okra), Amritsari machhi aur shakkar kandi (batter-fried fillets of sole, crusted with popped amaranth grains served with sweet potato chips), bhaja moshla cream cheese and the karela biryani.

Those who are looking forward to tasting the dishes mentioned, the menu is slated to change soon for the summer. Summers, you can look forward to a lot of fruits served in savoury sauces, a quirky combination that Dua personally prefers. Say, a pineapple rasam or a raw mango and prawn salad; the idea of these are mouth watering. Binge to your delight and the bill would still be

Fresh ingredients? Check. Taste bud tingling flavours? Check. Smiling waiters? Check. Finally, affordable? Oh well, eminently so. What are you waiting for? Give the Indian Lota a chance.