The Surya Mahal
Restaurant
at
Rajvilas
Jaipur, India

Frescoes of royal elephants bedecked in robes and jewels parade inside each arched niche of the courtyard’s wall—exquisite miniatures writ large. Darkness seeps across the Rajhasthani desert and a turbaned lamplighter makes his rounds. With a sparkler atop his pole, he ignites the four columnar torches—high as an elephant’s eye—around the raised stage in Surya Mahal’s open courtyard. Next to glow are the lanterns that reflect in the water courses along the courtyard’s arched walkways illuminate by muted chandeliers. Candles flicker on the teak dining tables as service begins under the glow of lanterns and stars. Surya Mahal means "sun palace" and during the day, it is palatial—at night, sublime.

Two musicians sit cross-legged on the stage. Eerie, sweet sounds emanate from the sitar and merge with the rhythm from the tabla, bongo-like drums. The jingle of silver ankle bracelets brings a high note as the dancers fly onto the stage, saris swirling in reds, purples and golds. Graceful arms move with the music and long, black braids are secured under silk sashes.

Dinner is a masala (spice mixture) of India’s regions, cultures and history. I start with a traditional pre-meal digestive, a savory cumin drink tastes of mint, lime and salt. It’s tiny dumplings float like miniature marshmallows on cocoa. The appetizer, whispers of India’s south—patties of potato, tomato and coconut on a lime-green leaf are dribbled with a sauce of tropical fruits.

"Jamar Sa"—bon appétit! the waiter says as he sets down a round silver platter with nine separate bowls of savories, breads and chutneys. This thali contains all the dishes of the meal. Many Indians would eat them in a definite order—from rice with ghee to the sweet. Traditionally, everyone ate with their fingers, kneading the rice together with the other dishes into a neat balls to pop into their mouths.

I use the paratha, a whole wheat bread fried in ghee, for my cutlery.. Ghee, a basic Indian ingredient, is butter cooked low and slow until it develops a nutty flavor. Surya Mahal's paratha is also brushed with ghee and rolled out several times creating flaky layers.

Each dish sizzles with flavor and sometimes with fire. Each has its own individual spice mix. With my paratha I scoop up bits as the spirit moves me. I dip into the incendiary vegetables simmered in tomato sauce then the cool yogurt and its miniature chick-pea dumplings. A dollop of smooth, yellow-lentil dal makes the many-spiced Korma, lamb curry, stand out. There’s a mushroom and green pepper stew and a sag, a spiced spinach puree. In the center, a cream-of-wheat-like dumpling rests in sweet cardamom-flavored rose-water syrup. Composing new combinations as I go, each bite is a culinary mosaic of India.

Earlier today I had lunch in the same courtyard’s portico. Normally a fanatic about eating local, I couldn’t resist the first green salad I dared eat in India, relishing the tiny greens and baby vegetables. A light mille-feuille tart followed, layered with zucchini, dried tomatoes and potatoes and dressed with a pesto mayonnaise. The palace-made chocolate ice cream served with a pistachio sugar crisp was palatially decadent.

The excellence of Surya Mahal’s western food is not surprising. The chef, Daniel Patterson, trained in kitchens like Aureole with Charlie Palmer, Nikko at 90 and Chewton Glen. Like all the staff, he is most enthusiastic about his work at Rajvilas, "I’ve never known anything like it, the team spirit, the push for excellence," Daniel said. "This is how it should be."

Just as the desert night turns chill, a friendly "You’re not too chilly are you? Can I get you a shawl?" comes from Rajvilas’ General Manager visiting the courtyard to ensure all of his guests are comfortable. Just then, I notice that among the frescoed elephants there is one bejeweled and very haughty camel and think how lovely it is among all this splendor, the camel is the only one with his nose in the air.

 By Kate Crawford  November 2004

LINKS WITH ATTITUDE 

The Rajvilas web site.