If Sephora were a restaurant it would look like this, a big, luscious, brand new open-mouth café situated right next door to sibling establishment Pout Store, which has been providing Delhi girls with small-size doses of Victoria Secret and Bliss products for years.

Play It Again 

Absolutely unmiss-able as we walk in to Pout is a hot-pink baby piano which heralds a black, white and pink (sephora colors!) palette that stretches across everything here, from a collage of model prints to fashion quotes that plaster the walls. Though eye-catching, we are not quite sure how we feel about quotes like “if stress burned calories, I’d be a supermodel” right before digging into a completely undeserved and lavish lunch.

But though the place is as empty as our stomachs, Pout does engages us from the start: after browsing through a long, confused menu that reads like a list of the average person’s favorite foods (red Thai curry, margarita pizza, Caeser salad), we settle on a waitress-recommended cross section of dishes.

Sample Sales

Our food arrives promptly, perfectly timed with the last slurp of a Reju Venator mocktail we are offered: a bit of a tease until the café acquires a real liquor license. Our meal starts rather inauspiciously, with Spanish asparagus and orange salad that is a downer featuring matchsticks of the promised vegetable, resembling something we could have chopped up half-drunk at home. But grilled fish seared in Asian spices- advertised as a small plate but large enough to be a main course - is mouth-watering in its buttery fullness and beautifully complimented by warm dinner rolls.

Fully flicking our hair in appreciation now, our mane course “Pouts Special Pickles Pizza” arrives well-tanned and slender on a nice wooden tray. The sweet-salt taste, blanketed in vaguely processed cheese is confusing at first, but somehow not entirely wrong: best described as kimchi on a date with the Indian-Italian legacy – oh my! Finally, agreeing to fill up the last half inch left between our stomachs and pants (and fittingly seated in front of a picture of Kate Moss at her waify best) we sample Pout’s selling points: French chocolate mousse and tiramisu. Both arrive in voluptuous glasses, perfectly creamy and appropriately rich.

Party Dreaming

Post-last bite, we conclude that Pout is worth the shout, perfect for a big bachelorette or kitten (but not kitty) party. However, upon calculating the check, as the bridezilla we imagine having a party here would say, the place is “acting a little bit pricey.”

Getting there: N6 Greater Kailash, call 40578361, Rs. 3,000 for a meal for two without alcohol.

This story was contributed by Meher Varma, who looks at clothes, aesthetics and beauty through rose-tinted anthropological lenses.

Take a couple of Delhi girls with souls of beach hippies, add one long protracted winter and you can colour us bluer than the skies over the Arabian sea. Well, we do feel a little bit better—and slightly vindicated—at having discovered Bora Bora Tiki Bar first, a little piece of shack in Delhi, complete with girls with flowers in their hair and bartenders with straw hats.

Tropical News

Tucked away in the little maze of lanes “behind Select Citywalk”, Bora Bora sticks to their island theme with straw matting and bamboo everywhere, a sign that says ‘Aloha’ on the door, and fruity cocktails. When we visited, we were offered only a choice of vodka, rum or tequila, as their full drinks menu isn’t quite fleshed out yet, but everything promised fresh fruit. We chose a Bora Bora—rum in a tricked out Planter’s Punch—a kiwi vodka cocktail called a Hawaiian Passion, that the manager shyly informed us she invented herself, and a strawberry margherita. Redolent with alcohol and fresh fruit, all three came with a strawberry garnish and were delicious and pretty enough for many pictures. (Take that, Bali-returned friends!)

The menu was a bit all over the place—from Japanese to Italian to Thai. While waiting for the crispy duck tacos and vegetarian Spanish tapas, the bartender got up on the bar and swayed to an island-y song, with the serving girls in red lined up and giggling behind him. This is going to be a regular thing—the staff dancing, and also available will be professionals to demonstrate salsa and what they called ‘dancing tables’, three Russian girls wearing tables as skirts and walking around with drinks.Tack-tastic much?

The crispy duck tacos came with delicious sauce—a tangy plum and a sweet chilli, which went very well with the pancake and the meat inside. We wish they had been a little less oily though, but they hit the spot regardless. Spanish tapas featured potato chunks in tomato gravy with garlic bread on the side, which could have been more aggressively flavored.

Sea You Soon!

For our mains, we ordered chicken katsu curry with sticky rice and vegetable ragout: the former seemed authentic, bland in that particular Japanese way, and layered over sticky rice. The ragout was a bit small however, the rice and stew served in delicate little bowls, and also bland than we like — a bit of sea salt, please?

Wave The Fee

The interesting thing about Bora Bora is that it seemed very girl-friendly. The manager and the owner are both ladies, they’re planning special ladies nights, and already, on a slow Sunday, it had the air of expectantly waiting for many a bachelorette party to pass through its doors. Let’s go, beaches!

Getting there: 5-6 Southern Park, D2, Saket, call 4135757, Rs 5109 for a meal for two with alcohol.

What: Bora Bora Tiki Bar, 5-6 Southern Park, Saket, call 41315757.
Why: Delhi gets its first tiki bar, inspired by island culture. Expect a variety of sea food and Cantonese cuisine, lots of fruity drinks, and a shack like environment. On weekends, there’ll be live salsa dancing and a flash mob (yes, another one of those). Loosely affiliated with London’s Mahiki, we’re expecting this to make up for our lack of beach. Look out for our full review next week!
When: You want to lei down and die.

What: Arisinal breads by Chez Nini home delivered, log on to http://www.lepetitepantry.com/store-chez-nini-0.htm, Rs 200 for one loaf of pain au fromage.
Why: Every one loves Chez Nini, but not too many have been lucky enough to raid the dessert section in the back, packed with croissants, breads and cupcakes (Nira, the chef, flew down Andrew Whitley of Bread Matters to train her and her staff how to make the perfect loaf). Now, however you can have them delivered right to your doorstep. Nira’s personal favourites are sourdough flaxseed and whole wheat breads, but she says the walnut loaf is also lovely, toasted.
When: You want to rise to the occasion.

Picture a house party, a poorly populated house party, the hosts and their four friends watching expectantly, clocking your every move. To make things a little easier on yourself, you sidle over to the laptop, currently playing lyrics like she moves her body like a cyclone, makes me want to do it all night long far too loudly. You change to the only folder you find acceptable, a selection of retro songs, but the host comes up to you, takes his laptop away politely and goes back to the Best of the Boy Bands. The house party, if you’ll let us drag on this metaphor, is two-week-old Fusion Lounge, the host is the DJ, and you’ve just realized that you should, in fact, judge things by their name.

(Con)fusion

Fusion Lounge has menus that declare its “fully automatic” state, with tables allowed to queue up their own music and place food orders using apps. In reality, there are two iPads—one belongs to the DJ, the other to the wait staff, and the latter did some complicated button pressing to show us how it was done, and then went ahead and placed the order himself. The DJ, as you’ve learnt earlier, let us play a few songs before wresting control of the iPad back and cranking up the volume.

True to its name, Fusion Lounge does multi-cuisine fusion food. This is in a market dotted with lounges, from Barka to Uber to Rock, so we suppose it had to stand out in some way. We got dahi kebabs with our drinks—a Guava Marry [sic] and a Strawberry Crush. We were expecting our Guava Mary to be somewhat like a perfect drink we enjoyed the last time we were in Bandra, cool and sweet with a spicy aftertaste, but it was just guava juice, vodka and a salt rim. Luckily, we had some Tabasco on the table, so we livened it up a little. The strawberry crush had a sickly sweet strawberry syrup, which we couldn’t stomach, so we exchanged it for a regular mojito.

Grease Is The Word

The dahi kebabs, far from being the light airy things we associate with that dish were breaded and deep fried. It was almost as if the chef thought, “If it isn’t deep fried, it isn’t food”, because that was the theme pretty much throughout. From massive wings of chicken, where the oily breadcrumbs disintegrated as soon as we touched them, to a batata pao burger, every dish left us greasy and longing for a finger bowl. Of all three of the above, the burger was the most palatable, tasting like street food with a twist, but oh, how we wish the bun hadn’t been oiled inside and out.

Finally, we ordered seekh kebab fajitas, crossed our fingers under the table and hoped for the best. The seekh kebabs were done in a tomato gravy, with little olives on it, which were okay, but as soon as we lifted the accompanying tortilla, it left a trail of lovingly applied butter across the table.

Tech Tock

Scared—and a bit ill—we retreated to the street level. Fusion Lounge is on three floors, and the downstairs is the part where they mostly leave you alone, but not alone with the iPad. The manager made the DJ give it back to us—“there’s only one so that people can’t change the song mid-song”—and he sat back sulkily while we played one retro hit after another, and turned the volume down as far as we dared. RSVP? Only for a private-feeling karaoke night (we noticed a karaoke folder on the iPad) and please, let’s have dinner before.

Getting there: M52, M Block Market, GK2, call 41019919, approximately Rs 2,500 for a meal for two with alcohol.

We were still thinking about that cupcake a few hours later, while watching the ballet. Every time the dancers leapt in the air, holding their arms out in front of them, they seemed to be cupping frosting, every time they spun, their skirts turning into doilies. We were like Captain Haddock in Tintin, after he’s been deprived of the sauce too long.

Tier-y Eyed

We mentioned to you earlier that Sugar Blossoms Cake Studio was due to open in Meharchand Market, and it finally did with a party over the weekend.  We missed the party, but dropped by post-work at her pretty little basement shop, with whitewashed ceilings, armchairs salvaged from the kabbadiwalla and (slightly trite) mottos about cake plastered on the walls. Full disclosure: owner Kajal Karni Bajaj recognized us when we walked in, so this review was not anonymous.

Thanks to the party the night before, most of the stock was sold out and what remained in the display case were what she called her “staples” (three kinds of cupcakes, and one set of cake truffles), which will always be there, no matter what the rest of the rotating menu is. With a fresh heart shaped sugar cookie hot from the oven placed before us, we weren’t really complaining. Between us, we tasted a chocolate-chocolate cupcake with chocolate buttercream icing; vanilla-chocolate cupcake with vanilla icing; and a strawberry cupcake, topped with buttercream icing shot through with fruit. These were all stellar, the cake sponge nice and moist, the frosting not too sweet.

When she can, Kajal told us that she uses fresh fruit, and when she can’t, she chooses a preserve that has absolutely no preservatives. Pretty soon, there will be a coffee machine, but apart from that, she doesn’t want to encourage lingerers; Sugar Blossoms is strictly take-out. Unless you want to order a customized cake, in which case she's happy for you to hang around and describe what you want.

Say It With Flours

It is in the cake making that Kajal considers herself most skilled, whipping up tiers of sugar violets, pink and white orchids, a copy of Eclipse, Muppet themes. Each takes about four to five days to make, and while she plans to have half and full kilo cakes available at the studio, themed treats will have to be ordered in advance. Plus, in the summer months, when buttercream may not hold up from the shop to your car, she’s allocated a little niche of the shop to use as a classroom, where she’ll teach you how to bake and make cupcakes of your own.  Beard her in her layer!

Getting there: Sugar Blossoms Cake Studio, 132 Meharchand Market, Rs 95 for a cupcake.

We don't think A block in CP has seen this much traffic in, well, forever, and the line of customers - fans busy taking pictures against a mermaid in the show-window and newbies who wanted to see what the fuss was about - snaked around the block. Delhi had finally gotten a Starbucks, and armed with our best i'm-in-the-middle-of-an-important-book look, we joined the melee on opening day.

How You Bean?

Eventually, we were shown inside an impressive two floor machine of a coffee shop, huge and efficient. A mural map of India covered one wall and rope lamps hung above a large wooden sharing table - this is a far more individualized and Indianized Starbucks than the standard-issue branches we've been to internationally (they all look the same, be it New York or Athens or Istanbul), and we weren't sure whether we liked the aberration. They had, however, retained the efficiency - we were shown into the line to place our order and handed a table number. Slightly taken aback by the pressure to pick in seconds, we went with our instincts:a tall vanilla latte and a venti caramel macchiato. 

Espresso Yourself

We found a table against a life-sized, mixed media installation on the wall boasting a prominent sign saying that all art work had been commissioned by Indian craftspeople. Our coffees were well-made and lived up to their international counterparts, with the caramel not overwhelming the macchiato and the latte sitting with us very well. Pleased, and certain that we would come back, we waited patiently for our food to make an appearance. Not as successful as the coffee, a salmon and cream cheese croissant had us fishing for stray bits of hidden salmon and a murg makhani pie was dry. “As bad as airplane food”, complained our companion. The basil, mozerella and cheese sandwich however, was fresh, crispy and an excellent quick bite choice. A surprise hurrah for the vegetarians?

Seizing a spare moment, we had to let our friends (and Instagram followers) know what they missed out on, frightened away by the long line. The free wi-fi however, was woefully slow, and for all purposes did not work. Our dessert choice, the chocolate chilli eclair was a bit of a damper as well, featuring a rubbery crust and absolutely no hint of any chilli.

Starbucks CP, is a fun place to hang at and serves up good coffee. But just like its international siblings, it's where you stop by for your coffee run, not stand in hour-long lines for. Unless you're a big fan, we suggest you wait a couple of weeks before going and let the rush die down a bit. Or make a beeline for the next branch, which opens in Select City Walk soon. Brew-tal truth?

Getting There: Starbucks, Hamilton House, A Block, Inner Circle, Connaught Place. Rs 135 for a caramel macchiato and Rs 135 for a tall vanilla latte.

What: Raw Leaf salad delivery service, visit www.rawleaf.in, Rs 150 for chicken Ceaser salad.

Why: Launching this weekend, (online orders work at the moment, but for proper phone service wait till Monday) Raw Leaf sends fresh organic salad greens reach to your doorstep 24 to 48 hours after they’ve been harvested. Acting fresh?! Available also are a number of pre-done salads—just add dressing—including Caesar, Asia mix and coleslaw. Or you can order the mixed bag, a blend of red and green lettuce leaves, and be a little less healthy with a BLT.

When: You want to lettuce take you home.

Perhaps named after the dude who runs The Best (web)Page In The Universe, Maddox, a new "multi-cuisine" restaurant in M Block Market, seems like a jumble from the moment you walk in, an assortment of tastes, quality and decor - here, standard club interiors fuse with low Japanese-style seating arrangements.

No Music No Cry

Even though the liquor license hadn't come through when we visited, the bartender was coaxed into mixing us a caprioska and a Cuba libre. The drinks were large and potent, though the Cuba libre didn't taste as great with white rum. Also, the manager told us it was Lover's Month and every table would get a 20% discount and two free shots.

Well watered by now, we were ready to order from the extensive, music-themed food menu. A short bio of an artist straddles each page, with Avicii in the Indian starters, along with Skillerex, SHM and others. We did think putting Headhunterz besides the variety of rolls was a clever touch.

Mad(e) To Order

Our server insisted we try an appetizer of cottage cheese biscuits, a super dish of panfried cottage cheese served with a platter of six different sauces (we highly recommend spicy chutney and yoghurt dip).

For mains we wanted to sample feta cheese and spinach parcel but were told it wasn't available. We settled for grilled exotic fresh vegetable skewers and a zaatar chicken wrap that was woefully dry and came with rubbery pita bread. The vegetarian course was slightly less disappointing. The skewers were well made and generously drenched in an excellent mystery sauce. However, we were curious to know where a few veggies promised in the menu had disappeared . Gone baby (carrot) gone?

Takeaway Points

Maddox is certainly not the last word in great food. However, for its prices, the portions are extremely generous, and for everything else there's always a sauce to compensate.

Getting There: Maddox, M Block, 68, 2^nd Floor, approximately Rs 2,000 for a meal for two with alcohol

We were late to dinner and so we told our friends to order for us. Thirty Nine in HKV is two floors up, so running from the overcrowded parking lot, knocking over hipsters in our rush, we were surprised and thankful to find an actual working elevator in the building. This restaurant was already looking good.

The(me) Days Of The Raj

The shtick - in HKV of course there will be a schtick - is British colonialism. As you walk towards the lift there’s a sign pointing to the fact that a British gentleman once entertained in this very spot. Cricket bats hang on the ceiling and leather armchairs crowd corners. Historically inaccurate though it may be, the menu is a romp through Brit haven. It's all a bit contrived, but ultimately not unpleasant.

We arrived to a table groaning under a mishmash of dishes, from maple syrup ribs to blue cheese and yogurt kebabs. Of the maple ribs, only one was left, guarded for us against Hungry Friend 2 by Loyal Friend 1. This was redolent with syrup, all sticky sweet and tender meat. The blue cheese and yogurt kebabs were that dreaded restaurant word—“interesting”— unusual but not unpleasant, although we wouldn't order them again. Try instead a carnivorous platter loaded with two different kinds of chicken tikka (the mustard one was the most popular), melt-in-the-mouth shammi kebabs and quartered naans served with a tiny bowl of black daal.

Pudding Up With It

Vegetarian mains here reinforce the notion that British food is unimaginative; our spinach, cheese, corn pie and broccoli and cheese baked dish, for instance, tasted exactly the same. The pie had a nicely flaky crust though, so we peeled that off and ate it plain.

Bangers and mash is better, even though it features parboiled sausages instead of more authentic fried versions, and comes with creamy mashed potatoes and silky brown gravy. The fish half of fish-and-chips is perfect, flaky and moist and not too over-battered, but the chips are frozen and re-heated.

But stick to the bangers, get a glass of wine, and focus on the luxury of an elevator in Hauz Khas Village, and you'll have a pleasant meal here.

Getting there: T 6B, HKV, call 46593377, approximately Rs 3,000 for a meal for two without alcohol.