Dining out in the shadows of Jodhpur's past

Rationalists would scoff but Jodhpur’s mesmerising Mehrangarh Fort may well have mythical powers. I have visited almost half-a-dozen times and still come away in awe of how it was built in a world without earthmovers and cranes. Rudyard Kipling’s father’s joke that it was the handiwork of giants seems the only plausible explanation.

I also return to Jodhpur because I love its food, which is now infinitely more varied and creative than I remember from earlier visits. From classic Rajasthani food at the decades-old Rohet Garh to the nouvelle Indian twists at its sister property, Mihir Garh, to the classic takes on roast chicken and spaghetti Bolognese at Daspan House, there is much to savour.

Within 20 minutes of leaving the airport, I found myself amid the urbane chic of Daspan House, a small boutique property in Jodhpur with a standout bar. I am usually averse to variations on classic cocktails. But the house rose martini was so well balanced—with just a dash of a rose liqueur made in Rajasthan combined with Grey Goose vodka—that it makes a case for occasional innovation. Ask for other such zany concoctions, and the bartender replies that the hotel’s bar is focused on classic cocktails. In a world in which cocktail menus in places such as Bangkok and Bengaluru are so jammed with ingredients and pretentious descriptions, this sense of old-school purpose is to be applauded. Paper Planes and Negronis sit side by side with Old Fashioneds with a twist; a banana is soaked in Jameson whisky to which are added bitters while the usual simple sugar syrup is omitted altogether.

The food menu is unapologetically classic. Daspan House has its share of Rajasthani favourites such as ker sangri and even makes a pickle out of the caper-like ker berries. The menu is helpfully divided into small plates, nibbles and larger plates. I settled for a “small” plate of chargrilled broccoli with cashew butter to have after my martini. It was a kind of arranged marriage between the principles of Yotam Ottolenghi and The Bombay Canteen, which worked spectacularly. As it happens, the chef Manoj Singh worked at O Pedro, a sister restaurant to The Bombay Canteen, for three-and-a-half years, and in Goa before moving to Daspan House.

Also a legacy of The Bombay Canteen is its service, which is informational and informal. Daspan House’s co-founder Varun Jalan, who worked at The Bombay Canteen, describes it as “conversational hospitality”, a determined departure from the alternating stiffness and servility that is viewed as good service in India. And Daspan House expects it to be a two-way street; the hotel’s unusual guide to Jodhpur has a glossary of words to be learned by guests in the local dialect.

The décor is another reason to stay; nothing is considered too mundane not to be a design statement. Among my favourites were the “do not disturb” tassels in rich burgundy to hang on the hotel room’s door handle and a framed display of combs owned by the grandmother of the founder, Siddharth Daspan. Daspan studied design in Italy and in flourishes, small and large, that cross-cultural legacy is everywhere in the hotel.

Another design statement, known also for its exceptional food and service, is Mharo Khet outside Jodhpur. It is a genuine farm-to-table dining; the vast majority of produce comes from the farm around the hotel. A meaty-tasting mushroom balchao might be on the table alongside a novel take on ragda pattice. Chef Ishan Ahluwalia’s creative menu also includes Western food options.

I have visited Rohet Garh, a 45-minute drive from Jodhpur, time and again in part because the property has stayed true to its Rajasthani and Marwar roots and showcases the food while all too many other places in Rajasthan, as in Goa, have given way to such ubiquitous fare as chicken tikka and paneer something or the other. During my first lunch at Rohet Garh on a recent visit for a wedding, I indulged in double helpings of large (and benign) chillis with soaked methi (fenugreek) seeds and rabodi ki sabji, which is pasta-like sheets of maize flour and buttermilk, dried like a papad and then cooked in a buttermilk or curd gravy with turmeric, chilli and asafoetida.

Of course, Rohet Garh makes the always-in-demand lal maas and safed maas that many non-vegetarians crave. These recipes are available in a cookbook by Jayendra Kumari, the late grandmother of Avijit Singh, the 33-year-old third-generation hotelier, who now runs Rohet Garh, Mihir Garh and Rohet House. (The cookbook is being updated and will be republished this summer.) Every time I have stayed at Rohet Garh, I have returned home to cook one of their dishes. A decade or so ago, it was their take on a dish made improbably from turmeric root; this time it was the chilli with fenugreek seeds and a tomato curry.

In a culinary sense, to stay at Rohet Garh and Mihir Garh is to indulge in time travel. One of the charms of revisiting is to enjoy a fruit trifle done perfectly, just as it was decades ago when I first stayed there in 1999. Some of the desserts, including a supremely satisfying poached guava pudding, are a throwback to a pre-liberalization India when people made do without a lot of exotic ingredients. For chef Manu Chandra, who was also a guest at the wedding at Rohet Garh, “the mirchi and methi seed sabzi” as well as “the simple trifle and the biscuit pudding (with Marie biscuits as the principal ingredient) stood out in a world of over-complicated desserts”.

With the influence of Avijit Singh, who studied at EHL Hospitality School in Lausanne, Mihir Garh does more nouvelle Indian cuisine as well as the old favourites. Mihir Garh, which counts Madonna as a past guest, has hosted pop-ups with The Bombay Canteen and Masque, which has added to the creative mix. A recent menu for a guest’s 70th birthday included roasted garlic soup and a Mathania (a local chilli) pesto ravioli, stuffed with ker, sangri, and feta cheese.

Because of the hypnotic properties of Mehrangarh fort, I decided to stay for my first night at the Stepwell House in the old city of Jodhpur. The stunning views of the fort from the dining area and bar, which features metal work that resembles Australian aboriginal art, is a feast for the eyes. I was dining alone, but with the fort looming in front of me, it felt like my companion was a gigantic, well-proportioned pagan god. I am no closer to understanding how the fort was built, but am determined to return to Jodhpur for the epic dining while I try to solve this mystery.

Rahul Jacob is a Mint columnist and a former travel, food and drink editor of Financial Times, London, as well as its Hong Kong bureau chief.