Journalism of Courage
North Indians residing in Mumbai have always had one complaint — the city does not offer authentic food from the part of the country that they hail from. It is to address this grievance that Abhay Chabbra decided to open Jhelum, a cosy 30-seater restaurant offering authentic north Indian cuisine at the busy junction of Pali Naka.
The name, inspired by the river that originates in the Himalayas and flows from Kashmir to North Punjab and Pakistan, is a reflection of his roots, says Chhabra. “My grandfather and our ancestors came from this city called Gujranwala, which is now in Pakistan. And it falls right next to the Jhelum river,” says the 24-year-old third-generation restaurateur. His family moved to India during the Partition, finding refuge at a camp in Chembur. To make ends meet, his grandfather Raj Kumar started a canteen business, serving north Indian food, before launching the popular New Neelam Restaurant and Bar, which was expanded by his son and Abhay’s father Ajay.
We visited the restaurant for dinner the day it opened its doors. The warm hues of pink and brown used in the interiors sans loud music offered just the perfect ambience to unwind over long conversations and good food.
Unlike most restaurants that aim to check every box, whether it is the vibe or drinks, and definitely add an element of quirk, Jhelum is clear — their spotlight is only on the food and perhaps that is why they don’t serve liquor. The menu comprising over 20 dishes, including starters, mains and desserts for both vegetarians and non-vegetarians, is a happy departure from the elaborate menus that we see elsewhere. This north Indian born-and-brought-up writer was ready with her order in sharp five minutes or maybe lesser.
Both Dahi Kebab and Tandoor Chatpate Aloo among the starters won us over. The kebabs had a crunchy covering outside with melt-in-your-mouth filling, a feat only a few restaurants in Delhi manage, and the baby potato dish lived up to its name. We found the Paneer Makhni a tad bit sweet for our palate, but their indulgent Dal Peshawari (similar to Dal Makhani in the north), which was slow-cooked for 72 hours, and paired with soft and fluffy Taftan – a thick flat bread made using milk, eggs, yoghurt and in this case also saffron — worked wonders. At first, the Gosht Nihari appeared greasy but its broth was perfect for dipping Taftan, and the meat pieces were tender and well-cooked.
To ensure the authenticity of the food, Chabbra says he spent significant time with the kitchen team, curating the menu and recipes to ensure that it is as authentic as it can get. “We are using authentic techniques like the dum style of cooking using wood and coal, are sourcing the dry ingredients from the regional routes and grinding them the way it was traditionally done, in our bit to ensure that we don’t go wrong with the taste or texture,” he says, adding that having a smaller menu actually works in their favour. “We don’t want a 500-dish menu. The smaller menu helps us maintain consistency and quality. We want to be assured that when somebody orders a dish, he or she isn’t disappointed because we have specialised each item in our menu.”
We would agree on this part. Before taking our leave, we decided to try Meethi Yaadein. The mouth-watering dessert comprising rabri, almonds and lychee, was an indulgence we did not mind.
The restaurant is open every day from 12 pm – 4 pm and from 7.30 pm – 1.30 am. A meal for two costs Rs 1,500.
