A Dubai restaurant is offering nouveau Indian flavours to guests that remind them of home but not quite. Its collaboration with a Mumbai hotel transforms into a homecoming for desi ingredients but in an unrecognisable garb
Chhena khandvi
The adage, food unites, makes sense when we meet Jarret D’abreo, managing partner at Dubai’s iconic Indian eatery, The Crossing. A culinary popup at JW Marriott Mumbai’s Saffron, as part of the Masters of Marriott Bonvoy’s mission to bring the world’s best chefs to India, sees the Bombay lad return home to introduce us to neo-Indian flavours served in interiors inspired by the waiting lounges of India’s stations. This has managed to gather a fan following in Dubai.
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The Crossing isn’t an Indian restaurant in the typical sense. This made the task tougher for Saffron’s executive sous chef Rohit Chadha, who had to source ingredients to ensure the replicated flavours stood close to the original.
The Crossing, Dubai’s Executive Chef Sunil Rai, with JW Marriott’s Executive Sous Chef Rohit Chadha cooking up a storm in Saffron’s kitchen
At an exclusive preview orchestrated for mid-day, we start with a chaat made with shiso leaf crisp, chickpea, curd and chutney—a cross between pakoda and chaat. A different take on palak chaat, the shiso leaf lends grassy notes of anise or mild basil. “Here, you get to experience two different stories, in distinct layers. The pickled chickpea is the surprise package,” adds Rai. The chhena khandvi is the popular snack rolled with housemade fresh cottage cheese, tempered with curry leaf and mustard dressing is to be served chilled. The taste is familiar, but different. The tiny balls of Japanese rice crackers add an unexpected crunch. Rai tells us that since someone or the other they know is flying to Dubai all the time, they manage to get their stock of favourites. “The mustard we use comes from a trader in Delhi,” says Rai.
The gunpowder (dish) on the menu is fresh prawns, sautéed in butter-pepper-garlic with gunpowder masala gravy on the side, it is served with freshly (made pav (made using Japanese baking techniques). The humble dish is a tweaked interpretation of one of the chef’s grandmother’s recipe. Next comes the Kalimpong dumpling together with stories about how the dish came to be in the region. It started with just the dumpling and the thupka (soup) that came on the side, offered by the smaller restaurants as a palate cleanser. In The Crossing’s version, the chicken shui jiao dumpling is served with chilli garlic chutney, with stock on the side.
Kalimpong dumpling
In laal maas, a Rajasthani staple, New Zealand grass-fed lamb chops are served with laal maas jus. Keeping true to the essence of the dish, fresh chillies from Holland, known for their red give the dish its colour and body. But not everything on the menu is fancy. A morning snack that’s a favourite with farmers in Tamil Nadu, the ragi koozh sees slow-cooked finger millet and rice with curd, pickle and crisps served chilled.
While it wasn’t on the non-vegetarian menu we were trying, the dal Moradabad came recommended by Rai. A delicious moong dal chaat, the recipe is said to have originated in Moradabad of Uttar Pradesh where you still find street carts selling it. The dish first rose to prominence during the reign of Murad Baksh, the third son of Emperor Shah Jehan, who, back in 1625, set up the city. He loved simple meals. His cook added toppings to plain cooked dal, and the rest is culinary history. On our table, this yellow split mung lentil dish comes dressed in a pakwaan nest, which is to broken into the chaat and mixed with chutney.
For the last course, our conversation meanders to Benaras, where the malaiyu is a winter morning must-have. Light and fluffy, it’s a milk-based dessert that feels like a creamy foam, whipped with sugar and light cardamom. It was served to us with a ghevar lattice, clotted cream and topped with pistachio. In many ways, it’s similar to doodhna puff (milk froth), the Parsi winter delicacy. We come away wondering, what the definition of authentic is in culinary terms. In a country that relies on family recipes and secret ingredients, food can only ever be termed evolving.