Pot luck: Fusion Indian food at Handi is winner

My dining companion and I belong to the Indian traditionalist gang who turn up our noses at so-called fusion-fare. Our argument is simple: What's the fun in eating butchered, bastardised food when you could be enjoying the real thing?

But if first impressions are anything to go by, the palace-like décor at the Indian restaurant Handi, sari-clad staff and a live ghazal-singing orchestra held a lot of promise. After seating ourselves on a slightly uncomfortable-but-regal couch and a steely throne-ish armchair, we went through the expansive menu with interest. Though the list is staggering, we decided to stick to our all-time favourites — masala papad (think tangy salsa on a cracker), mango lassi (yogurt blended with ripe mango) and masala chaas (spiced buttermilk). Though the lassi was a great thirst-quencher, especially after battling the Deira traffic, the masala papad was oddly disappointing, as it lacked punch in terms of spice and tanginess.

Not ones to give up easily, we decided to drum it into the staff's head to crank up the spice factor so that our starters would not be toned down.

Spruced-up

Next on our list was aloo tikki (potato doughnuts dunked in tamarind sauce and laced with yoghurt) and kasoori malai chicken — barbecued chicken infused with fenugreek and clotted cream. But our first bite into our starters proved one thing — Handi is not a fan of following instructions. While the chunks of kasoori malai were painfully bland, the aloo tikki was simply divine, despite its lack of fieriness. But a word of caution: don't expect this aloo tikki to be anything like your favourite street-food sold in Delhi or Mumbai. This one is a spruced-up, slightly pretentious version but is still as good.

The friendly staff — in between plying us with food — were equally eager to make us fill in ghazal-request slips. Though we tried to convince them that we are one of those poetically-challenged couples, they would not take no for an answer. After a fierce brain-storming session (read frantic phone Googling), we managed to save face.

But all was forgotten when we were handed a slim menu announcing an ongoing Biryani Festival. Like any biryani buff, we decided to go for the traditional murgh biryani. The fragrant saffron rice with spiced chicken effortlessly overshadowed the naan and some award-winning curries. Surprisingly, the much-talked about gosht korma (mutton in a tomato-based gravy) paled in comparison to the murgh punjabi. The dark-brown onion and tomato sauce infused with coriander served in copper handis was the perfect foil for the slightly under-cooked pudina parathas (bread sprinkled with mint).

But it was the desserts that were the toast of our evening. Now we all know that Indian sweets tend to go a bit OTT with sugar, but it was refreshing to eat ras malai (cottage cheese dunked in clotted cream) that was not tooth-achingly saccharine. Phirni, a rice pudding with pistachio nuts and saffron, was equally good and made our trip down to Deira worthwhile.