Tales abound of the decadence of Mughal Delhi, of lavish feasts and a rich culinary lineage that continues to this day in the by-lanes of Shahjahanabad. Delhi in 2011 is welcoming a renaissance of lavishness (there's a lot of cash sloshing around!). This is a restaurant in Connaught Place awash with mirrors (including a glitterball ceiling). The food is quite good, but I'm always a little suspicious of restaurants so dark you can barely see your plate. How is a man to tell his keralan boatman's curry from his tadka dal? And are the mirrors a call for us to take a long hard look at ourselves and our excessive ways? Or one man's fantasy - described by Wallpaper as "a bold collision between Marbella 1976 and a Mughul mirror palace"? Given the owner is a flamboyant fashion designer, I'm guessing the latter.
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