Every trip to Delhi since has always included a day in the old city. This time though, I took a short metro ride from downtown New Delhi that transported me into another world. From Ajmeri Gate, one of the few surviving gates of Delhi, I stepped into Shahjahanabad, popularly called ‘Purani Dilli’, or Old Delhi. Built by the Mughal emperor Shah Jahan in the 1640s, it still bears rich influences in art, architecture and cuisine.

The first institution I passed was the erstwhile Ghaziuddin’s Madarasa, renamed the Anglo-Arabic School. There are several such institutions, bearing humble façades with rich legacies. I walked through the narrowest of lanes and alleyways, sighting gorgeous but crumbling Havelis (mansions) knowing that each street had plenty of stories to tell. If the old city had the blue plaque system that Britain has, every other building would have its story on display.

I stopped for a typical Delhi breakfast of Bedmi aloo: wholegrain pooris (puffed, deep fried bread) stuffed with pitthi (lentil paste) along with a potato curry and a side of seriously hot marinated green chillies.

A tiny teashop opposite Tara Devi Happy School serves a perfect masala chai in a kulhar (unglazed terracotta cup). The street here is barely four feet wide and I was ushered into a doorway of a neighbor’s home to enjoy my cuppa. I stood there, on a little elevation from the street, taking in the sights, smells, crowds and buzz of this land, completely disconnected from normal life.

I could smell the spices long before arriving at Khari Baoli, founded around four centuries ago and considered Asia’s largest spice market. Some of the traders proudly boast of being the tenth generation in their family business. I was fascinated by the heady fragrance in the air and the amazing array and quality of dried fruit, nuts, herbs and spices. Each time I visit, I am overwhelmed by what I see.

After going a bit overboard with my stash of spices, I moved on to more stalls for some wondrous eats: Garwahal Paneer Bhandar for super-fresh paneer (who also do a great coriander and cumin version); Chaina Ram Sindhi Confectioners, more than 100 years old, to sample their Karachi Halwa; Pandit’sfor a Nimboo (lemon) soda with masala; Rabri falooda (a rich dessert with vermicelli noodles) at an urban legend, Giani’s di Hatti; Brijwasi for a Malai (cream)lassi and Bade Mian for kheer (rice pudding).

Once I’d had my fill, I walked past the historic Namak Haram ki Haveli (Mansion of the Traitor), which bears a beautiful frontage but awful history. I can’t help but duck into the museum of Urdu and Persian poet extraordinaire Mirza Ghalib. Urdu poetry is second to none and a lot of it has to do with the beauty of the language itself and the genteel tone in which it is spoken. I could feel the palpable connect to this heritage in my interaction with the locals, who spoke with a heightened sense of decorum and exuded a certain character and ethos that was pure vintage. They talked using beautiful dialects and their stories brought the land to life. I wonder how much of this information is documented or just human-archived, which may not stand the test of time.

Shahjahanabad is also home to majestic monuments like the Jama Masjid, India’s largest mosque, and the Lal Gila (Red Fort), built along the banks of the Yamuna River. The incredible culinary gems behind the Jama Masjid offer a heady feast for the senses: Karim’s for a mouth-watering range of kebabs, or Bundu Haleem Wala, where the Haleem (slow-cooked meat and broken wheat porridge) sells out in two hours. Kallu Mian’s Nalli-nihari (slow-cooked mutton stew) with Khamiri roti is again stuff of the legends.

The old city has a magical relationship with food dating back to Mughal times. Food here is made with culinary secrets passed down through generations and made all the more special with lashings of history. Over the years, I have understood its different nuances, peeling each layer back to discover a greater depth and richness. Many of the institutions I mention are several centuries old, and to have so many still thriving is extremely rare and unique. While some see the dust, chaos and crowds of Shahjahanabad, I see a bustling and precious living heritage.