My Delhi

You're walking past the Georgian terraces on Belvoir Street when the smell of cumin and fried chickpeas stops you dead. My Delhi isn't pretentious—it's the kind of place where the kitchen knows exactly what it's doing because it's been doing it properly for years. The menu reads like a love letter to Delhi's street food scene: think chaat varieties that make you understand why people queue for hours in India, samosas that shatter the right way, and regional specials that rotate with genuine intent. It's casual enough for a weeknight solo mission, buzzy enough when friends turn up, and honest enough that you won't feel robbed when the bill arrives.