The Search for Street Meat

Delhi street food is a curious beast. The city contains some of the greatest variety and most delicious cheap eats known to man and womankind, but the intrepid eater is constantly plagued by the threat of Delhi Belly. A curious and complicated list of rules for safely eating Delhi street food has therefore emerged: Don’t eat street food in summer when the temperature soars. Don’t eat street food too late in the afternoon/evening when it was presumably been sitting out all day, unless you can watch the food being prepared directly in front of you. Don’t eat anything with liquid in it. Don’t eat street meat.

Now, that last prohibition had been annoying me because I love street meats and I therefore determined to tempt fate and find and eat buckets of the most delicious street meat I could find. (I must say, I’ve come to approach street food with a somewhat reckless attitude now, having spending 10 months in Delhi without once being felled by the notorious Delhi Belly. This is probably a result of a stomach well-tempered by eating the best street foods that Beijing and Mexico City had to offer.  And, likely a childhood misspent by sucking on various items found on the mean streets of NYC helped build up my immune system too.)



So, last week I decided to combine my trip to a Sufi shrine (more on that later) with a search for Delhi’s finest street meats. Considering that I was venturing into a Islamic part of the city, I thought it much more likely that competition for street meat would be more robust and delicious—unlike Hindus, Muslims aren’t usually vegetarians. I even did some online research before hitting the streets and learned that there was one particular street in the neighborhood which was renowned for its casual eateries. In particular, all of the online commentators seemed to drool over this place called Ghalib’s. 

 [The hunt for street meat is on! I started here, with a long like of eateries featuring big pots containing delicious smelling things]

 [As you can see, I'm very happy here. The only thing I enjoy more than hunting for cheap eats is eating cheaply (and deliciously)]

[There was a strip of yummy looking places with a bench or two to sit on. But I knew I wasn't stopping until I found Ghalib's]

[I was almost seduced into eating at this place, which smelled like delicious roast chicken. Next time.]

So, off I went and after many wrong turns down dark and dirty alleyways, I finally found Ghalib’s. Now, as you can see, this place is not much too look at. Basically, we’re talking about two guys with a grill and a big clay biryani pot on the outside of a small three-sided room (the fourth side was open to the alleyway) where maybe 10 people could sit comfortably. There was also a fridge with a few beers and cokes were chilling and a printed menu on the wall. No one spoke English of course, but I basically just pointed at what I wanted. 

 [The outside of Ghalib's. Not much to look at, really]

 [Voila! The man behind all of the Ghalib's magic. Could this be Mr. Ghalib himself? As you can see from the line of customers, Mr. Ghalib's culinary skills are much in demand.]

The result? Tender, spicy, dripping-with-fat fresh-off-the-grill melt-in-your mouth succulent bites of meat. (Buffalo meat, I think). Also, not pictured here (sorry) cigar shaped rolls of deliciously spiced goat meat. And, of course, chicken biryani, well-spiced with nutmeg, pepper, cloves, cardamom, cinnamon, coriander, garlic and who knows whatever else. 

The one real setback with this place was that it did not serve any raita (a yogurt based dish common in India) to offset the spice of the food. But, I’m definitely going back soon, and bringing my own yogurt. Now that I’ve discovered the pleasures that Delhi street meat has to offer, wild horses couldn’t keep me away.