Babur is a wonderful Indian restaurant that has been a feature of the scene in Forest Hill, southeast London, since 1985. The polar opposite of the run-of-the-mill Indian (or, more usually, Bangladeshi) restaurants that dominated the Indian food scene back in those days, it has long been famous for its stunning and innovative modern Indian cuisine. As the subtleties and varieties of Indian cuisine have become more apparent to London diners, we are more accustomed to seeking out regional cooking and Babur has, as part of their 38th anniversary celebrations, launched a special menu, including an exceptional tasting menu offer, which opens the door on one of a very under the radar part of India: the state of Bihar.
Bihar is in the north of India, with the two culinary giants of Uttar Pradesh (Lucknow) and Bombay (Kolkata) lying to the west and east respectively and is split by the river Ganges, which flows from west to east. This is an ancient part of an already ancient civilisation and was the birthplace of the Mayura empire, one of the first to unify large parts of Southern India. It is also the birthplace of Buddhism. It is also very beautiful. Unfortunately, its more recent reputation as some sort of bandit country has, in the eyes of many, eclipsed these and other glories, including its food.
The menu is the project of the Babur’s Sous Chef Praveen Kumar Gupta, whose family comes from Bihar and follows an extended visit back to his ancestral home to explore and document the variety of local cuisines, and it is a revelation.
We chose the tasting menu, which is very good value at £54.95 per person, and only £85.95 with wine pairings. There are also Bihari additions to the main menu, and for a period the website has a voucher offering 38 per cent off the main courses during the 38th birthday celebrations.
The opener for the tasting menu comprised two dishes: Litti Chokha, a classic traditional rustic dish of stuffed whole wheat dough ball, which here sat on a bed of rich roasted spiced aubergine. I have eaten Litti Chokka on many railway platforms in the middle of nowhere, usually with a squirt of spicy sauce and a quick prayer to the god of hygiene to protect me in my hour of need. This was just something different altogether, with the delicious dough being perfectly brought alive by the spiced aubergine. The second dish was Madhubani fish with pickled baby onion. This was my first encounter with the food of the Madhuban area and delightful it was. A flaky white fish, river rather than sea I suspect, covered in a delicate thin batter and nesting in a pale tangy sauce. Delicious, as was the occasional popping of pickled onions in my mouth.
Second up was Tori ki tokri with stuffed courgette blossom. This was a dish that looked unlike anything I have eaten before at an Indian restaurant – a small tart, made with perfect crisp savoury shortcrust pastry, filled with intermingled layers of vegetables and spices that danced on the tongue with an artfully wilted courgette flower laid over it and softening the spices in the mouth. Almost French in its execution, and for the avoidance of ambiguity I do mean that as a compliment. Very serious cooking indeed. Next up was as delicious, but also decidedly more conventional with a soft, scrumptious potato of an arbi ki chaat struck through with crispy sev, (the dry noodles bags of which prop up the walls of every corner shack in India) and ripe pomegranate seeds offsetting the spice with their sugar.
The final savoury course was a beautiful Dehati chicken, a dish based on garlic, ginger, cumin, bay leaves, masala and finely judged amounts of chilli which is popular throughout northern India. This version was expertly spiced, full of juicy chicken thighs and had just the right amount of steamed rice to soak up every last bit of sauce. To finish we had caramelised lotus flower kheer, which was a perfect version of that admittedly perfect Indian milk pudding, and as a note in particular to the accompanying wines was served with a Sicilian Passito di Pantelleria which would give more than a few sauternes a run for their money.
Overall this is serious food from a serious chef served in a stylish but welcoming environment by staff who bring pride and professionalism to the whole evening, and what an evening. I don’t care if you have to look up Forest Hill on a map (in the interests of disclosure, and never having lived outside zone 1, I confess I did), if you are interested in Indian food, or really unusual haute cuisine and do not make it to Babur then you are simply missing out on one of London’s more unusual and interesting places. So don’t miss out. Just go.
Related: Restaurant review: Cavo, Soho
