

Chef Davinder Kumar at le Meridien has given the humble lauki a makeover. And it’s pure monsoon magic
Now the humble bottle gourd, variously perceived as beggar’s food or a convalescent aid, good for almost all major organs, is hardly an inspiration for a happening spread at a fine-diner. But with the rains hitting Delhi and each of us complaining of some lifestyle-related affliction or other, Chef Davinder Kumar decided to elevate our senses and well-being by rolling out a full course of “lauki reloaded” as it were at le Meridien’s Eau de Monsoon. The bottle gourd, incidentally, is among our earliest cultivated vegetables and our constitution completely agrees with it.
In the age of superchefs and TV maestros, Chef Davinder has quietly done his own thing over the years with a fine artistry and strict adherence to food logic. His lauki menu was not just a sales pitch but a well-researched and executed spread that explored all possibilities of a vegetable that is 70 per cent water. And he paired them with some fine wines.
We began with an amuse bouche in shot glasses, a mix of hot and cold zesty freshness, smoothening and rounded, the kind that whets your appetite for more. By the time we were served the tempered lauki and lentil cappucino with jeera biscotti, we were convinced that the gourd, which is neutral and bland on its own, could be absorbent of unknown flavours if the preparation technique was just right, mashing instead of blending and keeping the consistency just right with a lentil base that was not too overpowering.
But it was the lauki galawat kebab sitting pretty on a khasta bread that made us respect the bottle gourd. Truth be told, we never felt that this was a vegetarian compromise. Rather this was a full-bodied burst of goodness and known flavours, turgid and crisp, offset ably by a dash of lauki raita. The lamb mince and finely diced gourd curry with home-ground spices, curry leaves and mustard was another favourite, meant to be savoured on rained out afternoons when nothing but self-indulgence seems to be the only agenda. The lauki dumplings stuffed with dried plums and simmered in mildly spiced gravy had a balance of tastes in the ayurvedic sense, sweet, sour, salty and everything else in between. He presented these with a gourd biryani, dunking pieces of the vegetable in the later stages of preparation to keep them intact. The other winner in our book was the gourd and yoghurt combination, the former spiced lightly, almost dusted, and dunked in a gravy of the latter infused with fennel. Now this was subtle yet envelopingly fulsome at the same time. But chef Davinder doesn’t like to keep it predictable. So he did present a gourd ravioli with butter glaze and tossed cherry tomatoes. Attempting a ravioli with a soggy constituent is a tough challenge in itself, and its external contours did collapse a bit by the time the dish was brought to the table. Its Indianised stuffing, too, did not blend well leading to a sharp demarcation of flavours, making the dish look like a forced presentation.
He, however, more than made up for it by presenting the Bengali staples of chana dal with cuboid pieces and the famed lau chingri, bottle gourd and shrimp curry. Normally, the latter is done with popcorn shrimps but the slightly bigger version lent more texture in the chef’s preparation. A combination of sweet bottle gourd and the spicy shrimp, this is had in Bengal to offset the heaviness of shrimp and make sure it settles easy in the humid climate.
While mention must be made of the gourd chutneys and dips that kept us going through the afternoon, it was the lauki halwa with caramelised almond and pista biscuit that perfectly rounded off the meal. There was neither too much ghee or khoya in this one, leaving us with a taste of comfort. Do drop in if you want ideas on how to make everyday exotic with seasonal stuff.