Review: Jodhpur, Al Murooj Rotana

The newly-opened Jodhpur at the Al Murooj Rotana in Downtown Dubai gears up to serve "retro-innovative" Indian fare during the Holy Month of Ramadan

So no, Jodhpur is not about Rajasthani food (in case you were wondering); it's best to stick to Manvaar if you are craving a one-stop fix from India's desert state. However, Jodhpur does live up to its name from another context: bespoke, regal fare, a throwback to the era of stately kings and high priests. Set within the premises of Al Murooj Rotana (you have to climb down close to 39 steps, cross the poolside and roll up about 50 metres), the interiors are a cross between a traditional, upper-crust haveli and a resplendent palace. There's a hushed play between shadowy rustles and chandelier-distilled lighting; the colours flit from (royal) blue to green to (royal) purple, laced with gold. But you don't really get overawed because you happen to sight the live kitchen and bustling (yet non-intrusive) action. The man behind the royal show is Chef Pradeep Khullar, and I take this name simply because he's bound to pay you a visit while you are tucking in. He takes his cooking very seriously, and he likes sounding boards in the form of his customers. Resultantly, an outing at Jodhpur is almost like a food tour.
For the Holy Month of Ramadan, Jodhpur plans to get fine diners to gravitate to what Chef Pradeep calls "retro-innovative Indian cuisine". He says he's quite tired of "modernist" trends in desi food (like molecular gastronomy); it's best to stick to the straight and narrow but, then again, not quite. So the soul of the sampling we are about to undertake is entirely "authentic" Indian, like the age-old purists had it (therefore retro), but the twists are "international" (therefore innovative).
There's been a lot of thought put into the selection of the iftar set menu - evident in the Kataifi dates, stuffed with nuts confit, and served over a bed of crispy pastry; it's a wonderful "breaker" to start the feast. That's followed by Jeera Khari - the Indian version of the puff pastry, with a smattering of cumin - with a tangy, coriander-dredged herb yoghurt dip. The khari is light, layered and crisp, and the cumin infusion is just right; coupled with the dip, it's a concoction you can overdose on, so perhaps it's a good thing it's not a buffet but a set menu.

INNOVATIVE: (From left to right) The Chicken Kulcha, Mixed Fruit Sorbet and the Macaron Chaat
The innovative streak comes out in right earnest. I have the amuse-bouche (you know, the single, bite-sized hors d'ouvre) called Macaron Chaat. The very French macaron pastry is filled with a chaat mix made of hung yoghurt, lime powder, onions and coriander roots. It's a tiny ball of dynamo, the two disparate flavours contradicting and complementing all at once, and you feel a wave of goodness flow through your gastronomic system.
Now, all of these, I am told, are "pre-starters". For starters, I am served Chicken and Chestnut Kulcha with a Sumac Laban, and the Laban and Ricotta Kabab sprinkled with rose ash. The former is good, old-fashioned, robust chicken tikka masala stuffed in a kulcha (bonsai-sized); the laban is spiced with sumac, being imparted with a delicate local touch. The former is light-as-air, "carefully cheesy" kabab - kind of similar to dahi kabab - accompanied by dehydrated rose petals.
Now it's time for a palate cleanser: the Mango, Cranberry and Kaffir Lime Sorbet, which is served in a nostalgia-inducing Hawkins-emblazoned toy pressure cooker. The crunchy and refreshing sorbet rests on a bed of Alphonso purée and is delicious. It could well have been dessert - only, in this case, it heralded the mains!
I am served three kinds of mains. The Lamb Shank Nihari with miniature sweetish breads (the Sesame Bakharkhan), is cooked to perfection, the meat falling off the bones at a gentle nudge. The mini Pao Bhaji with garlic butter-seared tiny paos and home-style vegetable chips, with the same rich tastes from Mumbai street-side kiosks. And the absolutely yummy dum Chicken Tikka Biryani served with Burhani Raita.
I'm left wondering what new way there can be to serve traditional Indian desserts, so I'm pleasantly surprised to see there's not much deviation from the tried-and-tested rasmalai - that can never go wrong - except the way in which it's presented. I would have hated it if, say, I was served crème brulee after chicken biryani and pao bhaji. The rasmalai with milk foam rabdi is a lavish affair, complete with dehydrated strawberry and passion fruit, and loaded with crisp Kataifi for a scrumptious crunch at the end of it all. There's also the Kesar Malai Kulfi topped with freeze-dried raspberries that takes you back straight to the gullies of Old Delhi.
If there's one thing about iftar spreads, it's that they tend to overwhelm with surfeit and - to a certain extent - sameness. If you are looking to buck the trend, and go in for a bespoke, portion-controlled meal that won't leave you groaning with over-satiation and, more importantly, befuddle you with a mighty range of excesses, Jodhpur is where you should be heading for.
At Dh125 a head for the iftar menu, it will be well worth the effort. And if you want to travel to the real Jodhpur, you can plan that too - for during the Eid break.
sushmita@khaleejtimes.com

• Food and Dining