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Three stories, one truth: Avoid

It may be true that everyone on this planet wants to open up a restaurant at some or the other point in his/her life. But it is equally true that those who do get precisely such a chance are usually in the construction or real estate business. At any rate, in India, that seems to be particularly true. Real estate has grown to be very dear and thus ample passion is not enough to open up a restaurant any more. The Big Chill couple in Delhi—Aseem and Fawzia – had once narrated to me the story of their starting out. Essentially, they had put in all their savings (about Rs 1 lakh from the time when Aseem retired prematurely from the Indian army) into their modest little restaurant in East of Kailash. And while Fawzia baked and cooked, Aseem manned the restaurants and some of their earliest guests pitched in to play waiters….

 Such tales are just not possible in the Delhi of today. Money, many a times what we’d call “black money” , is behind most restaurants and it shows. But even more appaling are those places set up by young heir apparents whose parents have earned a fortune and are ready to lavish it on their children’s momentary fancies. Often, these people have really no idea of what to do and hire expensive consultants for the job — who may or may not be competent.

The point of such a long rant is that I happened to visit a place called Three Stories (because it is spread over three storeys—how juvenile can you get?) in East of Kailash recently, expecting to find Morroccon food but discovering, in the process, one of those multi-cuisine, strictly average Delhi neighbourhood restaurants that I had thought had vanished from the horizon in this era of snazzy concepts.

 The only story at Three Stories is a rather sad one. Opened by a young gent (faher in the realty biz, what else?) who went abroad to study and came back dreaming of his own party space, this is a restaurant that is decidedly horrendous. The basement houses a dance club—full of shimmery backness and a big TV screen for inexplicable reasons, the top floor is an all-white, yet seedy looking, lounge bar, while the middle level is occupied by a restaurant serving Indian, Indian-Chinese and Mediterranean fare. In three short points, I’d say, avoid the Indian, avoid the Indian-Chinese unless you stay in the neighbourhood and feel the urge for a neighbourhood takeaway and try the Mediterranean, but with caution.

While the mezze is decent enough, one can’t help suspect that some of the dips  have been “spiced up” with chilli flakes to take into account local tastes. The kibbeh was terrible, without the pinenut at the centre, which I deem mandatory for any competent preparation, while the tagine I tried unexceptional — just some tart curry with couscous. It’s a restaurant where the sign board should read: Avoid!

Three Stories

Opposite Sapna cinema

East of Kailash

Anoothi’s Ratings

Ambience: 2 (on 5)

Food: 2

Service: 3.5

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