Mohd. Ali Road (I)

As any Encyclopedia Brown aficionado can tell you, the First Battle of Bull Run wasn't known as such until the second. Likewise, it's evident from my title that my bloglag has caught up with me. On the one hand, I've learned from my mistakes; on the other, even I have cause to doubt my hindsight.

Took the #1 bus south from the seaside. Past where the lights were strung, past even where the roadside stalls began to choke traffic, until I saw the sidestreets carpeted with worshippers in namaaz. The khichida was bubbling in anticipation. I'm sure the meaty lentil stew is a perfect iftaar intro, but since I had no fast to break I skipped it in favor of more substantive fare.

In the nocturnal shadow of the flyover there was plenty of firni, sewaiyan, and jalebis, but nothing like a meal. I stalked the street until it became JJ Marg, and I turned back. What was I missing? Finally, a raft of wafting embers beckoned me into the arcade of the Noor Mohammedi Hotel, where the seekh were on the sigdi.

On my way in I put dibs on two kebabs and a rumali roti, but when I sat the gentleman across from me suggested that I try the "house speciality," which he described as the "gravy item." Thus was I introduced to nalli nahari. It's a paya-like soup, but instead of lamb trotters I found a brick of beef sitting in the middle of the bowl. With naan and the Mohammedi salad — ginger, green chilies, and a touch of soy sauce? — it hits the spot, then hits it again, then gently lulls it into a dreamless sleep.