It was hot and humid as only Delhi can be and the restaurant was up an unknown distance of stairs away. If you don't have areservation call this number before you start climbing proclaimed a little sign. we laughed and immediately after began feeling intimidated.
Gunpowder is that kind of location where you follow a pipe clamped to the staircase wall up several flights of stairs. Was it carrying water? I didn't remember to ask. Because when you huff-puffed into the restaurant, you were greeted by a view of the green Hauz Khas village lake with white birds swooning over it.
The restaurant itself has a simple exposed brick half-wall on one side through which you can watch the kitchen. And you can watch the manny guys who huffed-puffed in carrying sacks into that kitchen - containing, no doubt, our dal, chawal and...ummm fish?
Rasam? Not on the menu.
Syrian Christian dish of mutton. Yes! Actually no. No mutton in store.
Ok. We'll take the fried chicken (Kerala style), the spinach-lentils and yes please, the gunpowder (Andhra style).
The Kuttoo Roti with egg was pleasing. The rice from the huge rice cooker we could see was fluffy and hot. The dal had no such personality. The chicken fry didn't scorch with its chilli (we had hoped it would) but within seconds gave a delicious, fiery warmth. As for the gunpowder, with a hint of dal, coriander seed (?) and of course chilli, was over before the rest of the food was.