What happens when a Delhi kitchen tries to serve a diplomatic dinner fit for President Putin, Prime Minister Modi, and a room full of opinionated relatives?
Buy 1 Get 1 Free: Coconut Water. Rs 50 Off: Pomegranate Juice.

I eye the menu in my hands.
Yes, definitely the “stream of refreshing flavours.” Good enough for the heads of state, then good enough for my family dinner.
I would’ve asked my local juice shop to supply us with anar ka juice, small glass, Rs 40. Ten glasses would suffice for that fatty cousin, his wife and daughter. In any case, she cribs all the time, always focussed on packaging, so I let Shyam Juice Corner be this time.
But buying these branded, labelled ones would definitely elevate my status.
They cost a massive Rs 500, even after the discount.
I could’ve also got the coconut water from the nukkad sabzi wala, but again, it’s not branded. It comes straight off the trees, the vendor cuts through the round top with a huge knife, and a local plastic straw is then inserted into it to slurp the juice.
Would Russian President Vladimir Putin have liked to drink it like that, desi style?
Would his security have approved of it?
The phone rang while I filled the cart at the local grocery department store. I could’ve gone to the kirana store, but I would have to keep asking for brands and pricing, all the while being tempted by the cheaper versions available in open sacks.
Packaging is important.
I learnt that a little late in life.
Like, I should have bought those tall fancy glasses, a fancy cutlery set and French style plates from the man who had got them from Bangkok. The flowers and gold lines would’ve given a state banquet feel. Wait, this is a three-course sit down dinner.
Now I have to settle for the desi style.
They won’t notice. Or will they?
The gold from my old chinaware dinner set is fading. But surely state dining sets go faded and chipped too, eventually? What do they do about that?
I hurriedly answer the phone. It’s the vegetable fellow, coming to deliver the beetroot, paneer and shahtoot.
We aren’t making Khumb Galouti and Gucchi Marmik. Mushroom from the hills is too expensive for us in the plains. In any case, it is better digested by the elderly world leaders.
They need the protein.
But wait, does mushroom have protein?
I must Google that on the way home, along with the age group. Most of them were over 70, I think. Definitely over 60, I’m confident.
And most likely they don’t get mushrooms in the UAE or Saudi Arabia.
What about Brazil, Belarus and all the other Asian countries?
I must up my IQ or GK.
I glance at the menu again, Carrot Bean Poriyal, spices mixed in hand-pressed virgin coconut oil. No man, too much work for a North Indian. Yes, I did have it at Mrs Kuja’s griha pravesh.
Thakkali Belle Saaru, Light lentil broth of toor dal enriched with fresh tomatoes and curry leaves. It sounds a bit like sambhar, what Mrs Kapur concotes. Gosh, Google help me.
Search box: Can I make Thakkali Belle Saaru at home?
OMG, this is tomato rasam, daily dose in our home. Fancy!
Let’s come to the easy part: Beetroot raita is my favourite. It’s my comfort food, I have a bowl of this daily.
So we have to serve this, even though the vaidyacharya said not to eat yoghurt at night.
I’ve asked the halwai from Old Delhi to come and make Paneer Lababdar and Subz Motia Pulao. He has asked his nephew to bring his friend who cooked millets in his village. They will speak to his grandmother and then get it ready.
What about the Sorghum bread? The baker didn’t get it right. We will have to settle for desi Tandoori roti.
This is turning into quite an indigenously international affair.
My next stop is Gopala for Khandvi Mille-Feuille.
But the placard says just Khandvi.
What happened to the mille-feuille?
That’s French, nothing to do with Gujarat’s famous street food.
Perhaps diplomacy only works at state banquets. This, after all, is just a sit-down, three-course affair.
I haven’t yet called the Chandni Chowk fruit cream and jalebi wala.
Good Lord, Shahtoot Phirni comes with a gold leaf.
Just when Modiji asked us all not to buy gold and travel abroad, they are eating gold at the state dinner.
Well, in that case, I will put chaandi ki varak. At least that is within my diplomatic budget.
See, I knew my cousin’s wife would end up squeaking.
“Why didn’t you have fish or chicken or lamb? Dal Makhni was also missing. Pan-grilled sweet potato with coriander, black pepper and red bell peppers would have been a good starter. You forgot the tikkas also and the barbecue on the balcony.”
Russian President Vladimir Putin likes lamb.
Brazilians and South Africans also eat meat.
And maybe a Chinese dish would have been good.
But Chinese President Xi Jinping didn’t come for the dinner. If only he had been privy to Punjabi Chinese with extra oil, soya sauce, green sauce.
Maybe that chilli gravy paneer from the local van should have also been on the dinner menu.
She hugged me at the door and said, “Next time, I’ll get my theatre troupe also, nice to have culture with cuisine.”
I hope she doesn’t fall sick like last time, else she will ask for every ingredient I used and the exact quantity. We cook on andaza (approximates), not tiny measuring spoons and cups.
She got a blood test done to identify the ingredients! Now, I need to find some untraceable ones as well.
I hope she does fall sick though.
If the cousins from Australia had come, I would have just ordered from Bikaner Wala, and given the credit to Khana Khazana.
Ambica Gulati wears many hats: independent journalist, editor, multimedia storyteller, author and fiction writer. Her work moves between global affairs, conscious travel, the environment, culture and the intuitive arts, while her fiction explores the territories where nature, memory, mystery and imagination converge.
Beyond the laptop, she nourishes her creative practice through meditation, birding, reading, journaling, oracle cards, and yoga.
I also facilitate workshops exploring the art of journaling, understanding intuition, and cultivating our intuitive and creative faculties through reflective writing, creative exercises and simple practices for greater self-awareness.
More Big World, Small Stories
This post is a part of Blogchatter Half Marathon
