Gun Powder: The Resto with a view, the Food ok.

When do you last remember eating out in a restaurant looking over a green lake and surrounded by forests, from the third floor of a building? Well, third floor of the building may not sound very sensational, but the hill stationesque surroundings that the restaurant provides, especially during the cold, murky times of winter rain sure needs accolades for its sheer locale.
Hauz Khas village is known to all who live in Delhi or have come to Delhi with a vengeance to tour it. From the broad expanse of the outer ring road, there leads a road that keeps narrowing as it enters into the deeply vegetated plains of Hauz Khas. Then starts a long and winding road that leads into a den of boutiques selling dresses for women at a rate which can only be afforded by those who earn in dollars and euros. Where is Gun Powder in all this?
It is somewhere, and it still does not show itself even as you reach the end of the treacherous lane (provided you are taking the right one). I remember that at some point of time you will have to take a right into a lane the width of a cow if it decided to sit on its haunches at its entrance.
The story does not end there either. The lane that puts a slithering snake in shame leads into another left turn at a place where you would think it lead into an empty unusable piece of land between two houses. You enter that garbage dump, with the help of some local aide, if he or she is willing to help you out with the directions to the restaurant.
Finally, you find a sign, a sign from the almighty above, that you have reached the much hyped destination of ‘Gun Powder’, the restaurant. Thank Him for answering your prayers. You start on another patient journey through a narrow lane that can allow only one person to pass at a time. You meet a staircase on your right. You climb its steep steps, and this a warning for the weak of heart. You keep climbing, as if climbing the steps to heaven, with much anticipication as to where you will reach. You keep climbing for another three floors, till you come to the top most floor, the seventh heaven, if you prefer to be dramatic and you take a right. You can see a lot of greenery on your left, and straight ahead, you will be able to spot a table or two with guests, discussing fervently about the hottest topics on the planet. You have reached your destination. Thank God.
If you are lucky to get a ‘outdoor’ seat on the verandah overlooking the water tank of Hauz Khas village, your job is half done. The senses are half satisfied already, and well begun, they say, it half done. The menu comes in the form of a common computer printout, as if mocking the whole concept of a restaurant menu. It reads a lot of South Indian dishes. Here is where I will get into specifics and start narrating my story with the food of Gun Powder. Readers may differ with me, but I will be the happiest if they do, because then it will give me reason to visit it again.
South Indian coffee was ordered which was pretty good. Malabar parathas, buff fry and idukki pork were ordered. The buff fry tasted good to start with. But as it started getting cold in the murky weather of the outdoor unit, the nauseating scent of coconut oil and coconut slices bathed in coconut oil could not be taken anymore. The buff fry remained, for a better moment, perhaps, if there would be anything like that to come. On with the idukki pork then. It contained big chunks of boneless fat-free pork, but then without the fat, pork does not taste as good anymore, especially if it is Indian pork. The curry did not taste of anything, and even the salt was not upto the mark.
The semiyam payasam was good, served in a little bowl, but when does payasam ever taste bad? The bill then?
The bill was jaw dropping. The buff fry was Rs260, while the pork dish was Rs250. I am not going to mention the total bill amount.
What should be my take of this place? There needs to be much improvement of the food. If that happens, this little hole is going to make a killing. I can guarantee that. The location is unbeatable anywhere in the world, but it needs to buck up the food to reach out the real foodies, and once they get the good word, it will spread like wild fire.

In Picture: Anya Chakraborty

Dwaipayan Adhya