Kornered

Suparna Dutt D'Cunha didn't find kebab connection at a city restaurant named after this finest fare.

Last year, Kebab Korner left a bad taste in the mouth of some Indian royals and Dubai residents when in an advertisement on a Hindi radio channel, it took a dig at the Indian city of Lucknow by suggesting that, while the rest of India was engulfed in the fight for independence from the British in 1857, Lucknow remained unaffected as their nawabs (royals) were too busy tucking into kebabs.

They had to drop the mocking ad. And believe me when I say it didn't get any better on a recent Friday evening. This whole experience of eating out in Kebab Korner left a bitter taste in my mouth.

Once you step into the restaurant, the first thing that strikes you is the jarring interior and seedy-seeming bar - dubbed Rock City. It adds little to the atmosphere.

The place doesn't fill one with a sense of confidence and lacks charm. Kebab seems to be the kind of place you'd go to discussing shady deals over a platter of ordinary kebabs.

The restaurant's ambience should have acted as a barrier for actually giving the place a try.

There was swirl of waiters on duty, but complacent. They rushed at us with thandai - a sherbet made of almonds, rose petals, melon and aniseeds - which I could only take two sips of.

More successful at bringing out the appetite was an order of Kebab-e-Tastari - an assortment of five kebabs cooked in different styles: tandoor, tawa, grill and kadai.

I found the kakori kebab, which read so tantalisingly on the menu (minced mutton mixed with saffron, rose water and cardamom and cooked on a skewer), too intense for my palate. Its texture was dense and grainy, and its flavour the raw essence of smoke.

An order of dum biryani took 45 minutes to arrive. My only option was to simply stare at the wall and wait for either food, or sleep. Neither came for an incredibly long time.

After the long wait, I expected it to have an old-school homespun feel, but it turned out be utterly bland.

Furthermore, it loses points for silly things like not having side plates.

Daria-e-Aag - chunks of sole in a spicy nutmeg flavour cooked in tandoor - broke up the monotony of all the dry fare on our plates.

Kebab, kabab, cabob or kabob - the word with many variations - can be a culinary treat. In the traditional Mughal cuisine, each meal should start with various kebabs and meander through to a biryani or curry at the end.

But here you will be disappointed to sample the implausibly tender Galawat kebab - first perfected in the kitchens of the Moghuls. We had Jhinga Meherunissa - a creamy prawn curry - which would have tasted better if they had been a little more generous with the salt.

Those who agree with celebrity chef Thomas Keller that "the ability to salt food properly is the single most important skill in cooking", will disagree with Korner's chef, whose dishes aren't worth their salt.

Unlike other times, I even tried a dessert - Gulab Jamun (cottage cheese dumplings in sugar syrup) - thinking that might sweeten my mood and change my mind, but what I uncovered from the dumplings was a pistachio shell.

So, guys what is it that you look for an evening out at a restaurant? Good ambience, great service and above all super food. But in Korner, you get none of this.

But try it - it might surpass your worst expectations.