Old Delhi Food Tour: Paranthe Wali Gali & Spice Market

4.92

(168 reviews)

What’s the experience like?

Right as we stepped into Khari Baoli, the air hit me—spicy, earthy, almost sweet. It’s not just a market; it’s a maze of burlap sacks and voices. Our guide, Ramesh, waved us over to a stall where dried red chilies piled up like tiny mountains. He let us pinch a bit of cumin between our fingers. I swear, I could still smell it on my hands hours later. The traders here move fast, but if you pause, you’ll spot grandmothers haggling over cardamom or a kid sneaking a whiff of cinnamon. It’s busy, loud, and somehow comforting.

Chandni Chowk’s chaos is something you feel in your bones. Rickshaws honk, shopkeepers call out, and the scent of frying samosas drifts by. We ducked into a tiny shop for jalebis—hot, sticky, and gone in two bites. There’s this old man near the corner who’s been selling chai for decades; he poured us tiny glasses, and I could taste ginger and something floral. Even the walls here seem to hum with stories. It’s easy to lose track of time wandering these lanes, eyes darting from silk saris to trays of sweets.

We took off our shoes at Gurudwara Sis Ganj Sahib. The marble floor felt cool underfoot. Inside, the singing was soft but steady. Volunteers handed out plates of simple dal and roti—no questions asked. I sat cross-legged next to a family from Punjab and a student from Kerala. There’s a quiet kindness here that sticks with you. Our guide explained the history, but honestly, it was the feeling of community that hit hardest.

Naughara was a surprise—nine old houses painted every shade you can imagine. It’s tucked away, and if you blink, you’ll miss it. The doors are carved, and the windows have colored glass. A local woman sweeping her stoop smiled and pointed us toward a tiny Jain temple at the end. It’s peaceful, a world away from the market noise.

Paranthe Wali Gali is where my stomach really woke up. The cooks move fast, flipping dough and stuffing it with everything from spiced potatoes to crushed almonds. We tried three kinds—one with paneer, another with banana (sounds odd, but trust me), and a classic aloo. The parathas come out hot, with pickles and a little bowl of curd. I left with greasy fingers and a grin. There’s a reason food lovers keep coming back here.