After a gruelling national airline trip laced with an unannounced early departure, seats reshuffle from the extreme front right to the back, disgraceful food quality, insipid tea (… most like cold tea, sir!), the lights inside going crazy and snappy crew reassuring the aircraft will not crash, it was a delight to enter the dust-bowl skies of Lahore and the searing heat. For once, the begum literally looked red. Oh Cambridge, I will return, worry not!

But then as we settled in, a few old friends invited us to dinners. But my preference always is my old Bhati Gate days’ Ravian classmate Sheero whose mother makes the best Hareesa. That is an event we eke out with Khalidi (the best tale reciter of Lahore’s ancient history) that is to take place next week… hopefully. But my wife’s old school teacher-friend Tahira was the first in on Day One. She never invites, she orders. So, it was then that we went to Junoon restaurant off MM Alam Road.

It is a reasonably posh eatery with a welcoming ambience. We had booked a table and were shown to it by a polite person. The order was taken and it was a mix of three main dishes -- Chicken Achaari, Maghaz Masalah and Dal Makhni. Among four persons, this was just enough. The naans were an assortment of sorts, and for drinks we stuck to three lemon drinks and a salty lassi. We had decided to have sweets at home afterwards with tea (a lemon cheesecake) so we could chat away late and plan for an early Sunday traditional old Walled City halwa puri at Ali’s opposite the Lahore Fort and also have lassi.

It took about 25 minutes before the meal came and it was tastefully set in traditional dishes. So far so good. My choice was the maghaz and I had requested that the chilli level be kept low with a liberal sprinkling of ginger. I prefer plain naans with it. I had also requested, much to the begum’s annoyance, not to break the maghaz into mince or overcook it, and keep it as solid as possible. “Your old city habits just do not go away,” she stated. The waiter smiled.

So, I began my adventure with an animal brain. Oh, it was amazing and virtually for a minute I was blind to what others were doing around me. The other three ladies went for Chicken Achaari and our host, whose parents were from pre-Partition Delhi, took both the chicken and the daal; the achaari order was her idea.

Later, I tested the other two dishes and found the chicken appropriately done and the ‘achaari masalah’ was excellent. It was superb. The daal was excellent though a wee bit overdone. In this daal it is a fine art knowing when to stop. Good chefs boil it separately and then add it to slightly unfinished masala and then let it simmer for a few minutes. At its best it can outdo any of the meats.

Now let me return to the Michelin rating system, which I always used for this newspaper, as I do when in England for a few British newspaper columns on food. The system operates on an average of any number of variables, depending on the nature of the outlet, with ‘One’ being Horrible and ‘Nine’ being Exceptional. The average of the combined then is the rating. For ambience of the eatery it is 7, for cleanliness another 7, for service a very reasonable 7, for quality of the food an 8 is richly deserved, for quality of crockery and cutlery 7, for electronic ordering facility a 6 is just fine, for it prepares the place enough time to marinade, etc.

We now progress to prices which get 6 (this is no cheap place), for car parking ease a 7 is reasonable, for range of dishes to choose from an 8 is deserved (too large a spread reflects a dispersed effort, not focused excellence) and lastly, for response to specific individual demands another 7 is in order.

This provides us an average rating over 10 variables for Junoon restaurant of 7 out of 9, which by any standard reflects excellence. Highly recommended, but please book a table in advance.

SAAG ROTI: An acquaintance sent over some sarson ka saag and amazing makkai ke roti. Oh, oh… amazing stuff. The going gets a little heavy, so it is best to restrict oneself to just one roti, and after a salty thick lassi, just go to sleep. Keep it coming dear friend. —AMSHE

Published in Dawn, July 7th, 2019