It’s a dish that both unites and divides and is the source of endless debates. Hyderabadi, Mumbai, Awadhi, Thalasserary – there are so many different styles of biryani to choose from. In a country where the food you eat changes every 100km, biryani is a dish we all eat, and one that continues to evolve. Lucknow, a city in Uttar Pradesh, claims to be the home of biryani – though in typical Indian fashion, so do Kolkata and Hyderabad. Legend has it that Queen Mumtaz Mahal once visited her army troops only to find out the soldiers were undernourished, so she asked the cooks to create a dish that featured both meat and rice and what originated was biryani. It’s widely believed that biryani has its origin in Persia, and was introduced to the Indian subcontinent by the Mughals. While Jaffer Bhai – fondly known as the Biryani King of Mumbai – passed away in 2020, his restaurant established in 1973 continues to serve biryani that’s consistently out of this world. My grandpa, the OG food connoisseur, taught me that if there was a party worthy of biryani, it had to be ordered from Jaffer Bhai’s Delhi Darbar on Grant Road, Mumbai. Not quite the same experience when cooked at home in small quantities. Digging around a big pot of biryani for that perfectly succulent piece of lamb before someone else steals it. Imagine: a heady aroma of whole spices slow-cooking, the vibrant colour of marinated meat cooking in its own juices, and long grains of rice bringing everything together. That’s because it tastes best when cooked slowly, ideally in a large copper handi over a wood fire. Growing up, biryani was not something we ate regularly or cooked at home.
One more meal conundrum solved!Ī celebration of all that’s great about Indian food But what I loved the most was that there’s almost always enough leftovers for Saturday lunch. As for me, there’s nothing that satisfies my Indian soul more than a bowl of rice. The juicy, almost-falling-apart pieces of lamb loved by my “I need to eat meat everyday” husband. The fluffy, yellow-tinged aromatic rice at the top, sitting among a bed of boiled eggs, was perfect for my spice-hating toddler. Last year, I cracked it: we started ordering biryani. The challenge, of course, is ordering something that everyone will eat. Perzen Patel on the iconic dish that both unites and divides India.įriday nights are takeaway nights in my household – there’s simply not enough steam in the parent engine to cook one more meal.
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