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Review
There's nothing about Nisaba that feels even vaguely reminiscent of what Delhi's dining scene seems to currently be overwhelmed by. For starters, the restaurant is airily, luxuriously large. The menu's concise, but every dish on it implies a decadence that could only stem from weeks of refinement. And somehow, I have no idea what music I heard throughout my three-hour meal, which, I believe, is a very good thing.
In short, there's an assuredness to Nisaba that skirts all the flourishes other restaurants of the newer crop sometimes resort to. There is no arduous cocktail menu, for instance. The playlist doesn't deafen diners. We are not dealing with little low-ceilinged haunts that are designed to look smaller than they are. This is a place confident of filling all 120 seats even on weekday nights. Why? Well, this is Manish Mehrotra's restaurant, after all.
After his departure from the world-renowned Indian Accent in 2024, there was understandable buzz when Nisaba opened in the Humayun's Tomb Museum Complex – the location quite a statement in itself, I must say; far from the madding crowds of Greater Kailash II and Basant Lok, and a fairly chic contrast to The Lodhi, which is where Indian Accent dwells.
And yes, Nisaba does carry forward some of the very best stuff Manish was known for at Indian Accent (take the blue cheese naan, for example). Yet it's also an ode to vegetarian food; that vegetarian food can be given the same lavish treatment that non-vegetarian fare gets at fancy restaurants. The menu itself is divided into two halves that cater to each, with ten starters on either side, and 11 and nine vegetarian and non-vegetarian mains respectively. And while Nisaba eschews theatrics of the gastronomic or portion size variety, it's stunningly clear to every diner that equal, if not more care has been paid to the vegetarian half. Few will know Manish grew up vegetarian; he only tasted meat as a teenager in Lucknow.
More on that cocktail menu bit. Manish tells me that while Nisaba does have a page in the bevs menu that does cocktails, he wanted to offer Delhi something different on the liquor front: variety. Nisaba stocks more than 100 wines, over 80 whiskeys, and thirtyish tequilas. The result is a fabulously diverse drinks menu that showcases some of the best alcohol from around the world. Much of it isn't available to buy in Delhi at all.
There's very much a high-low concept at play. Comfort classics familiar to every South Asian tongue – chaat, dal, kebabs – whittled down and recontextualised into something you'll still be familiar with, but will note aloud to your dinner partners. Nothing encapsulates that more than dishes like the Monsoon Malai Sweet Corn, which comes with a tomato pickle and Farrukhabad-style pumpkin seeds – a crunchy chaat-like affair faintly reminiscent of a corn chowder – or the Belgian Pork Ribs, which come glazed in a sweet mango chunda, rounded off with that sour fennel that is so familiar to many Indians, but just not with pork ribs, which are perhaps the most excellent cut of meat I've had in the city. The Beetroot Goat Cheese Dahi Vada's another nifty little dish that had me quite impressed with a vegetable I don't normally care for.
Some dishes are more upfront flavour-wise. The tiny samosas sitting atop the Moradabadi dal, for instance, are everything you'd expect, though the dal proves to be a surprisingly fabulous addition. The Kali Mirch Tofu, too, is exactly what it sounds like.
Other dishes, though, are clear standouts. The Mutton Seekh Kebabs, drenched, doused, practically drowned in butter, are mopped up with the blue cheese naan I spoke of earlier (Manish has been long embroiled in a bit of an affair with blue cheese – a flavour that he says enhances some flavours in Indian cooking in wondrous ways). The Zaveri Bazaar Dal bullies me into licking my fingers. The Barbecue River Sole is encased in an unexpectedly delicate tamarind chili miso. The Clay Pot Motihari Mutton involves, again, some of the best cuts of meat, cooked so dreamily well that they need no acquaintance with the fork, for the meat does slide off the bone.
The desserts stay firmly within Indian territory, which means very little chocolate. The Baked Rasmalai topped with makhana is intended to be, and indeed is, the showstopper.
If you're a liquor connoisseur and happen to visit while general manager Shubham Upadhyay's around, you're in devilishly good hands. Not only will your meal be paired with alcohol that complements the food, but you'll also be regaled with great conversation on what's sourced from where, and why. What's on offer? Light-footed French wines, deep-bodied Taiwanese whiskeys, coffee liqueurs you've never heard of, and more, if you've got the big bucks to pay for it.
A big reason why Nisaba isn't run-of-the-mill is the service. It's the last little star in this review – though not so little, perhaps, when you consider how good service can cinch any good meal (and how bad service will doubtlessly dent even the best of spreads). The servers are unbelievably well-choreographed. Dishes appear exactly when you want them. God forbid your glass is empty. You'll probably spot Manish. And he'll probably stop by to ask you how your meal's going.
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