On the edge of the tiny shop stands a makeshift kitchen where a cook squats before a large handi, or deep pan, filled with oil, bubbling over a flame. He lifts a cone filled with a batter of maida (a finely milled wheat flour), corn flour, baking soda, and ghee (or so I assume, based off the standard jalebi formula; the owner refuses to share the contents, citing "secret ingredients"). Trailing the batter from the cone, he delicately traces concentric circles over the searing oil. With a large steel ladle, he stirs the oil as the circles bob to the surface, at first white, then pale yellow, and finally glowing orange. The vibrant spirals are removed and immediately dunked in a sugar syrup infused with saffron. After soaking for a bit, they are served hot, in a betel-leaf bowl. The warm jalebi has a satisfying crunch, which gives way to a soft, chewy texture within, and fills the palate with sticky-sweet goodness. It's an ideal chaser for a plate of peppery kachori sabzi, which happens to be the second-most popular dish at the Ram Bhandar.