05 October,2025 11:05 PM IST | Mumbai | Nasrin Modak Siddiqi
Gur ki Sewaiyyah. PIC/KIRTI SURVE PARADE
It's just before midnight on Saturday, and we head to town on an impromptu date night to a place not crowded with bloggers, which we claim to be a hidden gem, yet. Nur glows quietly opposite the Asiatic Library. The street is hushed, the city asleep, but inside, the warmth of fairy lights glows up an alley full of a series of hand-painted wall artworks that depict scenes from a bygone Mumbai. The yellow lamps and the faint hum of conversation feel like a private world.
After being told to expect a 45-minute wait, we are ushered into one of the two inside seating areas. Exposed stone and brick, weathered yet deliberate, hand-painted murals of old Bombay, and teakwood arches that frame conversation rather than attention. Glass-painted windows. Large chandeliers and tiny trinkets on the walls. There's a quiet respect for imperfection - wabi-sabi in practice - and every material, every corner, hints at the care and thought poured into the space.
The menu is concise and straightforward - featuring kebabs, biryani, kheema, and a few select special dishes. The first dish arrives: Nalli Barra (Rs 575) on a sizzling plate. The aroma hits first - smoky, meaty, earthy. The marrow has dried up, rich and almost buttery, melting on the tongue; the meat is tender but still holds onto the bone. Then, Mutton Seekh Kebabs (Rs 475), charred at the edges, are spiced just enough to bite without overwhelming, paired with pillowy Khamiri Naan (Rs 70) that soaks up the smoky juices perfectly.
Next, Mutton Dum Biryani (Rs 550 for half) appears: each grain is separate, aromatic with saffron and whole spices, concealing tender mutton that has been slow-cooked to perfection. The Chicken Malai Badami (Rs 450) follows, subtle and nutty, creamy yet light, before the Butter Chicken (Rs 450) - boneless, rich, and luxuriously coated in tomato-butter gravy. Dessert is Gur ki Sewaiyyah (Rs 175), soulful but straightforward, jaggery sweetness lingering like a memory. Wash it down with Pallonji's soda (Rs 70). A ritual cup of spiced chai ties it all together. Next time, we'll try the kheema paratha and bun maska for breakfast.
On our way out, we meet co-founder Rahil Khan, who tells us about the story of Nur that began decades ago, with his father, tending a modest stall on Mohammed Ali Road, coaxing flavours out of slow coal fires, grinding spices by hand, and perfecting dum cooking long before Instagram existed. "That patience, and a reverence for Peshawari and Awadhi techniques, reflects in every dish on the menu. We wanted to bring that heritage alive; not by replicating old recipes, but by respecting the methods, the fire, and the ghee."
Co-founder Saud Javed Hussein adds, "For us, cooking is devotion. Dum isn't rushed; ghee is generous; spices are honest; ingredients are carefully sourced, meats are hormone-free, and techniques echo the kitchens of Peshawar and Awadh. It's food that connects the diner to history and craft."
Past midnight, the café is still alive, with lone diners, old friends, and families lingering over plates that feel familiar yet elevated. Nur isn't about trends or spectacle; it's about presence, patience, and the enduring pleasure of a well-cooked meal.
