The two of us were keen on authentic Rajasthani grub, and our quest -- with the help of a very co-operative chauffeur -- brought us to the Rainbow Restaurant. Our chauffeur, initially surprised that we should want to eat anything other than greasy chow mein or plasticky burgers, eventually suggested Rainbow, and assured us that we’d get a good Rajasthani meal here. "Order the thali," he said. "It’s enough for two people to eat well, and you can always order more rotis if you like." (A thali, for those not in the know, is a set meal -- a table d’hôte -- an array of dishes, each of them in its own little bowl, arranged neatly in a large round platter. There’ll be a dollop of pickle in one corner, a salad, a mound of rice, and local bread. A good introduction to a cuisine).
Anyway, back to the Rainbow, which, on first acquaintance, came as a bit of a shock. Maybe they decorated it the way they did because they wanted to make it look like a rainbow -- I don’t know. Whatever it was, the combined effect of huge wooden tables and chairs, red check tablecloths, typical Rajasthani paintings, plastic flowers, and a multicoloured plastic model of a plane dangling from the ceiling -- all of it rather shook us up. As did the menu, which came printed on massive multicoloured plastic cards and offered a range which ran the gamut from pizza to Chinese ("Would you like to try the Chowmein dosa, madam?" -- I swear that’s on the menu!), South Indian to Rajasthani. We took the safest course, of course -- the thali.
The thalis were large steel platters, in the centre of which lay a fist-sized mound of fluffy rice. Around it, in gleaming steel bowls arranged around the inner rim of the thali, were a curry of mixed vegetables; a dal (lentils); and gatte ki sabzi (this one’s a very typically Rajasthani dish: gramflour’s kneaded into a dough, which is cut into cubes and fried, and then the cubes are cooked in a spicy curry. It’s an interesting insight into the cuisine of a desert state where fresh vegetables were once very hard to come by, so recipes had to be concocted from lentils and grains). Along with that, there was a spicy garlic chutney, a hefty helping of red-hot pickle, a (fortunately equally hefty) helping of sliced tomato and cucumber, and a glass each of chhaach. Chhaach is one of Rajasthan’s glories -- a drink made of whey, spiced up with the merest hint of roasted cumin, salt, and chopped coriander -- heavenly! With all of that, we also got two types of local breads -- missi roti, which is made from gramflour; and pudina paratha, a layered fried bread garnished with dried fenugreek.
Very filling, very good for the soul -- and the view out of the restaurant’s large windows is panoramic enough. And the best part of it all? We paid only Rs 160 for the whole thing, including aerated drinks!