Gourmet Legacy- Part 1 : The Biryani Odyssey

The Walled City... Mughals... street food...Did I say roadside biryani? Even if I didn't chances are, that it was already buzzing in your head. If you happen to be a non-vegetarian, you must read on, because here's a ride in to the world of the sinfule delicacies that are clubbed into one broad group- Mughlai food.
Skipping the very debatable debate over what exactly is Mughlai food, who discovered butter chicken etc., I shall right away chuck out all political correctness. It's the job of the food critics and bigwigs of the food industry, let them handle it.
What I'm about to write deals with the layman's preferences. Pardon me, I cater to lay women too. But that in itself is debate because for most people, including a rather intimidating aunt, eating non vegetarian food and eating well, is rowdy and messy business. So 'eating well', is essentially men's prerogative, while women demurely look on as they pick at their salad. However, I for one, enjoy sucking the marrow out of the bones (pun intended). And so I shall enjoy writing about it to.
I belong to a people who hold a fierce pride in being the 'original dilliwallahs'. They can bring out a family tree to trace back the last five or six generations who lived on the same land on which we today live. And so we are born with a certain superior taste when it comes to aunthentic Delhi cuisine. And that is not, my people would tell you with conviction, what is being presented to the world under fancy, much-hyped brands. Restaurants and hotels can slam each other all they want, but the ideal biryani is an art that comes to you naturally, or it doesn't come at all.
So why is the world all worked up about The Biryani? It seems to be every restaurant's claim to fame- the quintessential Indian dish that everyone believes they can get right. And there would be as many versions of it as the commentators- the potli pulao, the zafrani version, the Kashmiri version, the Hyderabadi version... their tastes may be worlds apart but they're all biryanis in the end.
So I'll take you to my people's version of it. Of course we have our 'generations old recipe', which, by the way, everyone seems to have. But the flavour we can achieve, my mother says, can slamdunk any of the "burger chhaaps" and give them a run for their money when it comes to good food.
As any non-veg enthusiast would know, white meat like chicken has no flavour of its own. The flavour of spices and vegetables has to be infused, when cooked with it. On the other hand, red meat has a flavour of its own, and an amazing one at that. So that means if you cook red meat even with the humble old lauki or potatoes, as its done at my place, it can beat any fancy recipe.
But then the beauty of good meat lies in the way it is cut and how fresh it is, which surprisingly, not many food critics seem to write about. In my mother's opinion (and she's a credible authority) meat shops in Old Delhi are perhaps the only ones who know every piece of meat, every bone and joint of the whole sheep or goat so well that they'd never cut the meat "as if they were chopping tomatoes." And then your meat is as good as its fresh. My people can tell with the first bite how fresh the meat is. Ideally, it has to be bought fresh, cooked and consumed within the same day.
Of course the rice and spices are important too. Soaked in salted water, the long and fine grains are inetgral. The spices are every chef's secret- they can make or break your recipe. Each piece of meat cooked in steam, NOT in a pressure cooker but a kadhav or a deghchi, has to be a tender and fragrant one, with its flavour still intact. And that, quick fix biryanis whipped up in pressure cookers can not achieve. Then there are the interesting variants like the 'potli pulao', where all spices are tied in a mulmul cloth, called the "potli" and kept with the meat in steam, called "dum", so as to get the essence of the spices. The potli is removed before serving the pulao. Zafrani and Kashmiri versions are much richer in flavour, enjoyed mostly in winters. This variety is cooked in milk with saffron, making the rice rich in flavour and soft in texture. Fried cashews are also used.
The Hyderabadi version, introduced to my folk by an aunt from Hyderabad, is an altogether different experience for North Indian taste buds. The hyderabadi Biryani is all about its spices- the cinnamons and cloves used in abundance for a sweet and spicy flavour. Also, it uses both mint and coriander together (either as whole leaves or as a paste) which happens to be a taboo in our North Indian cooking mantras. Nevertheless the biryani, in all its diverse glory, finds its way into all meat-lovers' lists of favourites.
(To be continued...)