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For long years, researchers have been telling us tea is good for us. But, as I discovered last week, tea sellers are good for us, too. I was strolling down Old Delhi, looking for a nargisi kofta man I had heard about. That was when I bumped into M. N aseem, the owner of Kwality Tea Centre in Farash Khana. He was making packets of tea, sealing them carefully, when I buttonholed him, asking him if he knew the whereabouts of the kofta man. Naseembhai demonstrated what people of Old Delhi are famous for — courtesy and helpfulness. He left a boy behind in the shop, and went with me in search of the elusive kofta. We didn’t find it, but instead I discovered a great biryani seller.

Naseembhai suggested that I try the biryani at Nazeer Khan’s little corner, which has been around in the Farash Khana area for 40 years. To enter Farash Khana, you have to move from Fatehpuri towards Lal Kuan. There is a narrow gate that leads you to Farash Khana. About 100 yards down the road, you will find a man sitting in a corner — at the mouth of Gali Rajan — with a degh of biryani. He comes at 10.30 in the morning, sells his biryanis and leaves by 2 or 2.30 p.m.

The place was earlier run by his father, Wazir Khan, which is why it is still known as Wazir Khan’s biryani. Wazir Khan is some kind of a legend in the area. Folklore has it that among his diehard patrons was the actor Dilip Kumar. Nazeer Khan doesn’t have a phone number, but if you are lost, you can always give Naseembhai a call (shop phone no: 55530647 and residence: 55396537). He will, I am sure, direct you, the way he kindly guided me.

The biryani was indeed wonderful. Cooked with aromatic long-grained rice and soft pieces of buff, it’s for Rs.48 a kilogram. The nice thing about the biryani is that it is not the least bit oily. My problem with Delhi biryani is just that — the oil content in most biryanis leaves you feeling like an oil well in Saudi Arabia.

This one, on the other hand, was not oily, but not dry either. The meat was succulent and well cooked, and the spices were just right. He serves his biryani with a hot raita and some ground masala.

I packed two kilos for a hungry bunch of people and some to take home, and I went back home with no biryani (the aforementioned hungry horde having finished it all up) but with lots of waah-waahs.

This is what I love about the Walled City. You can just walk around its lanes and by-lanes and discover some wonderful chefs. And, of course, you meet some great people as well. Where else but in Purani Dilli will I find somebody like Naseembhai, who decides that for the sake of food, a wandering stranger and mehman-nawazi (hospitality is the closest word for it, but it doesn’t quite explain the intricacies of the Urdu original), his business could take a backseat. In the process, I found some great biryani — and made a friend.

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