In Delhi, winter belongs to Indo-Chinese comfort

As the weather turns nippy by the day, I wake with a craving for parathas that steam on the plate and warm my fingers before the first bite. By evening, all I want is a bowl that sends up fragrant clouds of heat, broths that soothe the throat, dimsums that burst with warmth, and that particular tingle of spice that feels made for winter. There is no place like Delhi when the temperature drops. Its cosmopolitan heart seems to glow a little brighter, offering every kind of regional and global comfort. Even a stroll through Dilli Haat feels transformed. After trailing my hands over soft pashminas and earthy bujhodi shawls, I always end up at the Sikkim stall, drawn to the steam rising from bamboo baskets. A plate of momos, a bowl of thukpa, and that neon red chutney arrive at my table. On any other day I would hesitate, but in winter it feels like exactly the kind of fire the season demands.

The other evening, after a silly argument with my husband, we decided to make peace over hot dimsums and a proper Indian-Chinese meal at one of our long-time favourites, Royal China in Chanakyapuri. We have been going there for years, since its Nehru Place days, and even earlier as college students in Mumbai, where its outpost sat just a short walk from campus. There is something tender about returning to places that have fed you through so many versions of yourself. We ordered our usuals: steamed wontons in chilli sauce, corn curd, Char siu pork bao, Hakka noodles, lamb in chilli oil and fried rice. The food arrived quickly, each dish releasing curls of heat. The service was attentive, the flavours bold and comforting, and somewhere between the bite of the chilli wontons and the last spoon of fried rice, our argument simply melted away. 

It amuses me how often our moods, disagreements and celebrations draw us towards Indo Chinese food. My husband, who grew up in Kolkata, swears by the Kolkata Chinese of his childhood, and I, who grew up travelling across India and first tasted Sino-Indian cooking in Dehradun and Delhi under the rather grand name of Chinese cuisine, still find comfort in a bowl of hot, fiery chow mein and chilli paneer. Not Mapo Tofu, not delicate regional subtleties, but the nostalgic flavours that feel like home. Another steadfast favourite of ours is Ichibaan in Pandara Road Market, which has stood strong for more than three decades and still serves dishes that make you smile before reaching for the next bite.

Curious if others felt the same, I asked a few Delhi wallahs about their favourite Indian Chinese spots. Their answers only confirmed it. This city holds tight to its food memories.

Chef Radhika Khandelwal, behind Kona and Trouble Trouble in Greater Kailash 2, needed no time to think. For her, Cullinaire in the same neighbourhood is stitched straight into childhood. “I’ve always loved old school Chinese because it is tied so deeply to my childhood. I’ve been eating from Cullinaire since I was 12 or 13, and those flavours have become a kind of emotional muscle memory for me. The glossy gravies, the honey chicken, the crisp spring rolls remind me of birthday parties, early restaurant outings, and a time when food was fun and uncomplicated.” 

For Vidhu Sharma, a long time Delhi resident, the heart goes directly to Drums of Heaven in Green Park, a favourite for more than three decades. She lists her must haves with the ease of someone reciting a cherished tune: crispy chicken wings with their sticky, savoury sauce, chilli honey chicken, Shanghai crispy lamb, spicy lamb dumplings, and the cocktails, especially the Bloody Mary that completes the ritual.

Ankita Sehgal, actor and influencer, finds comfort in the refined yet familiar flavours of Shang Palace at The Shangri La, while Harshwardhan Tanwar, founder of No Footprints, remains devoted to Fujiya at Malcha Marg, a place that still holds its old world warmth and the charm of dishes that have outlived trends.

Listening to all of them, it becomes clear that Indian Chinese is not merely a cuisine in Delhi. It is a shared nostalgia, a living map of childhoods, family tables, late night cravings and small celebrations. We have shaped it to our own taste, tucked it into our memories, and claimed it as comfort in the most instinctive, heartfelt way.