Less Sugar (Cheeni Kum) (Cheeni Kum)

Good evening. Spice 6.

I'm sorry, but we're completely booked this evening.

Absolutely not.

I don't even think there are going to be any cancellations...

this evening to be honest.

You're welcome.

'Six butter nan and chicken curry. - 'Aloo paratha'.'

'One butter chicken. Quickly. - 'Chicken Tikka Masala. Pick up'

Pick up 'Dal Tadka'. - 'Bhendi Masala'.

Not this spice, get the other one.

'Butter roti. - 'Vegetable 'Biryani'. Pulav'.'

Hurry up!

Add just a little. - Alright.

'Butter chicken' and 'roti'. Pick up.

'Zafarani Pulav'. Pick up.

Which one is the 'Khadi Dal'?

Chicken Curry. Chicken Prawns.

Four 'butter nan'. Pick up.

'Veg Kolhapuri'. Pick up. - 'Paneer Kofta'.

'Dal Tadka'.

Garam masala. Hurry.

'One butter roti.'

'Mattar paneer'. - Hurry up.

First oil.

Then asafoetida.

And then the onion.

It's asafoetida that enhances the flavour of the oil.

The oil enhances the flavour of onion.

Onion brings flavour to the food.

If you think onion can do what asafoetida does...

and vice versa,

I think someone else can do your job from tomorrow.

You should be working somewhere else.

'Missi roti'. - 'Mutton Rogan Josh'.

One 'Malai Kofta'.

Is there a problem with your eyes?

It's still boiling, and you were about to add lime!

It's okay, sir. - Okay?

This word 'okay' is the world's biggest problem.

Okay means, neither good nor bad.

This is not an okay place.

Over here, the lime is added 30 seconds after it cools.

Okay? - Okay. Sorry. Yes, sir.

Good. 30 seconds are over. Add it now. - Right, sir.

And shut that phone off! - Right, sir.

Do you think cooking is a profession?

Cooking is the world's finest art.

More than the paintings in this room.

Because that art only attracts the eye.

Only the eyes.

But what we make here...

attracts the eyes, the nose, and the tongue.

Hence, we are the greatest artists in the world.

Do you think

this became the finest Indian restaurant in London

just like that?

No!

This has been, and shall always be...

London's finest Indian restaurant.

If you are not proud of this fact,

and you like to compromise with your art,

go and work somewhere else.

Many fraud Indian restaurants in London fool

the naive English, who love Indian cuisine,

by sticking posters of elephants and the Taj Mahal to show

that they are authentic. Go and work there.

This is, and I repeat, at the risk of sounding repetitive,

London's finest Indian restaurant.

Not some fraud crap.

Sir, this is 'Hyderabadi Zafarani Pulao'.

Oh! Genius!

Thank you for informing me.

But why is the 'Zafarani Pulao'...

coming in and not going out?

She sent it back. - Why?

She says the 'Zafarani Pulao' is sweet.

Sweet?

She says the real 'Hyderabadi Zafarani Pulao'

is not sweet.

She says we are some fraud Indian restaurant.

Excuse me. Did you order this thing?

I did. - May I know what the problem is?

First time in London? - Yes.

From India? - Yes.

Aren't you getting the flavour of our country in this 'Pulao'?

Will you tell me...

the recipe of the 'Zafarani Pulao' you make back home?

If you don't get the flavour of our country in this 'Pulao',

tell us how we should make this 'Pulao'.

In the history of this restaurant

this 'Pulao' has only come out of the kitchen.

It has never gone back inside.

So we think our 'Pulao' is excellent.

Maybe we are mistaken.

Or maybe...

you have never eaten authentic Zafarani Pulao.

Whatever it is, we would like to know

how this 'Pulao' should be made according to you.

And if you have never stepped into your kitchen back home,

then go out, call up your mom in India,

and ask her

how the real 'Hyderabadi Zafarani Pulao is made.

What!

We are waiting to learn.

Get up, let's go.

He's crazy! What does he think of himself?

The air fares have reduced

so they just arrive in hordes. Darn tourists.

Is there a problem? - No. Not at all. Enjoy your meal.

Arthritis?

No. AIDS.

If the prescription is of Arthritis, what else could it be?

You have Arthritis! It doesn't seem so.

This prescription is for my mom, and this is my prescription for BP.

Don't I look like I have blood pressure?

Come on, hurry up.

Did you go to the gym today?

Gym.

Don't listen to me.

When you turn 75, you won't even be able to breathe properly.

You will walk two steps, and pant for four.

Have you eaten? - You are fine by God's grace now.

Go to the gym, go for a run.

Or it won't be long before you end up in hospital

while trying to carry something that weighs just a kilo.

Enough. Here are your medicines.

Think about yourself. I don't have to live long.

What do I remain healthy for? - You have a lot to do yet.

You have to make me eat rubber-like 'rotis'

You have to serve me watery 'moong dal'...

like the 'dal they serve in prison.

And also...

serve me bitter gourd that's even more bitter than your tongue.

You have a lot to do yet.

He's a chef, but he won't eat in his restaurant. He'll eat at home.

And then, he will complain. - Take your medicines...

so that your illness does not snatch your tasty food from me.

'Dal Makhani'. - 'Methi Mutter' ready.

'One Kheema Sale Murg Pilaf', please.

What is it? - 'Kheema Sale Murg Pilaf'.

And what is that?

Oh, right!

It's a stuffed chicken rice dish,

the fragrance... - You mean, 'Kheema Bhare Salan Murg ka Pulao'.

Right. 'Sale Pulao'.

Sale Pulao?

What is this? What the hell is this?

It is difficult for him as he is an English.

What can I do? Should I worship him?

Let him be a English, African or Chinese.

I don't care.

This is an Indian restaurant.

Whoever works here,

the least he can do is get the names of the dishes right.

Rascal.

He mispronounces the name of the dish.

Until he doesn't learn to say the names of the dishes correctly

he won't go out to take orders. Get that?

'Hyderabadi Zafarani Pulao'.

Basmati rice from Dehradun.

Mutton, cooked for 18 and one fourth minutes.

5/6 gm garlic, ginger.

Two spoons of pure ghee.

A little sour curd.

Milk, 10 spoons.

Two spoons red chilli, masala, lots of saffron.

And, not a grain of sugar.

This is the finest

'Hyderabadi Zafarani Pulao' in the world.

Sir... - Only a dead man...

can reject our 'Zafarani Pulao'.

We have not made it.

It has been cooked and sent to us.

For you.

"Less sugar. A little less in you."

"A little less in you."

"Less sugar. A little less in you."

"A little less in you."

"Gradually, the problem will disappear, my love."

We made a new chicken dish the other day. Let's try it again.

I am sure it will turn out well.

Let's try.

How did the 'Hyderabadi Zafarani Pulao' turn sweet that day?

Sweet...

I don't how...

Who made the 'pulao' that day?

I don't know, boss.

What is this?

This is sugar, and that is salt.

How do you come to know which is sugar and which is salt?

I just know, sir.

It's an everyday routine.

Who is she?

She's my wife.

She lives in India.

How many years has it been since you met her?

Two years.

You must be missing her a lot.

What do you do when you miss her?

Nothing...