For a drink, if I’m in that part of town.
Every month a restaurant explodes on to the Delhi scene and everyone loses their shit. The geriatrics who still write reviews in newspaper supplements declare Delhi’s culinary scene will never be the same. Half baked bloggers (including moi) spare no exclamation marks!!! Eager instagrammers trip over each other trying to take the same 4 shots. A month later the process is repeated with another restaurant.
Tabula Beach Café will already be old news by the time I publish this but I don’t write to keep up with other bloggers anyway, so here goes.
So the plan, though ambitious didn’t immediately seem absurd to me. Recreate a beach shack vibe in Delhi. To make this happen, the interiors are bursting with swathes of teal and bright orange. So far so good.
To take it to the next level, the owners decided to set up an adult sized sand box in which Delhi girls can sink their stilettos. There was just one thing they didn’t think of. Rain. When I turned up on Sunday afternoon, the sand pile had turned into a mud pit.
Go to Tabula for a cocktail on a breezy evening but if you’re actually hungry take your appetite elsewhere. If you absolutely must eat, ditch the misleading menu and just ask the waiters what they recommend. In any event, drop any preconceived notions you may have about any dish you order.
The Sloppy Joey is 3 sliders with firm tenderloin patties and none of the spicy meat mish mash messiness I was expecting. The Goan Sausage Pao had no Goan sausage, the meat instead was sweet and sticky. The “hot” Chipotle Barbeque Sauce wings were also sweet and stickY and had no chipotle that I could detect.
The final straw for me was looking down disappointedly at the plates of unfinished food before me and realizing that the sliders and the sausage pao were packed into the same kirana store pav bun. The least I expect from a restaurant is for the chef to procure the appropriate bread for the friggin’ patty. I’m sorry Tabula but you don’t get to follow the standards I employ when rustling up a midnight snack for myself, you’re running a restaurant and the chasm between what your menu promises and what is being delivered is inexcusably wide.
I will admit that nothing tasted bad but what is a reviewer to do if the Sloppy Joe isn’t sloppy, the Goan Sausage Pao missing Goan sausage and your hot wings are sweet? Thank the heavens, the teensy cocktail menu actually works. The Michelada was refreshing and bursting with flavour and the Moscow Mule helped ease my disgruntlement.
The staff was sweet but didn’t really have a clue.
All in all, Delhi has so many better places you need to be eating and drinking at.