Biryani is one of the greatest
cultural gifts of Islamicate culture to South Asia. In the Hindu
or Buddhist kitchen, no example of a mixture of meat and rice is known. Jains are vegetarians, so there's no point talking about them in the first place. In larger
parts of the subcontinent, the average Hindu upper caste person faints at
the smell of onion or garlic, leave alone meat. The entirety of upper
caste North India always looked down upon the Bengali brahman
because of his fish-eating habits. Imagining anything close to
the sublimity of the biryani exuding out of such a
taboo-dominated kitchen is nothing but a day-dream. But even in the
middling or lower castes, I wonder if any parallel of the meat-rice
combination could have been known independently of an influence of
the Islamicate kitchen. In the far south, in Christian and lower
caste sections of Malayalis and Kannadas, there is a thriving
tradition of preparing fabulous dishes by cooking meat and rice
together. But with all due respect, that isn't biryani.
Biryani was invented in the
North Indian military camp sometime around the fifteenth-sixteenth
centuries. At the end of a hard day of marching or military
operation, soldiers would probably get together, throw some meat in
with the rice to save the labour of cooking separate dishes and
prepare something for themselves. By the early-seventeenth century,
biryani attained a certain degree of eliteness by virtue of
being absorbed into the Mughal kitchen. Nuruddin Jahangir (r.
1605-1627), the fourth Mughal Padshah, writes in his memoirs
Tuzuk-i Jahangiri: 'Arriving
in Sultanpur at dawn I remained there till noon. By chance, at this
place and hour the victorious [Mughal] army encountered that
ill-fated band [the enemy]. Muizzu-l-mulk had brought biryani,
and I was turning towards it with zest when the news of the battle
was brought to me. Though I had a longing to eat the biryani,
I immediately took a mouthful by way of augury and mounted, and
without waiting for the coming up of men and without regard to the
smallness of my force I went off in all haste.'
After Aurangzeb Alamgir's death in
1707, Mughal political authority crumbled. Among the multiple
polities that emerged in South Asia around this time were three
successor states founded by Mughal mansabdars. The Mughal
Wazir, who was administering the subah
of Awadh, and the subahdars of
Bengal and Hyderabad – all declared independence in the eighteenth
century. While all of their dynasties continued to function inside
Mughal cultural paradigm for a long time to come, they also
interacted with and assimilated elements of regional culture into
their courtly life. The Mughal biryani
took on a new life in each of these regional royal kitchens and by
interacting with local culinary practices, took distinctly different
paths. Consequently we now have three different types of the Mughal
biryani in South Asia
– the Lucknavi, the Hyderabadi and the Dhakai. The Hyderabadi
biryani was doing fine
until it lost its way somewhere down the line by opening its doors to
curry pata. Dhaka, now
the capital of Bangladesh, has preserved its tradition of the sublime
kachchi biryani. It
tastes entirely different from what we have now in India, and if you
haven't visited Bangladesh yet, consider it to be a reason enough.
There is also a most offensively atrocious dish that is served around
Delhi by the name of biryani;
but we need not dignify it with a discussion here.
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| Yes, that's the expression Dhakai kachchi biryani brings to your face! |
When
the English East India Company deposed Nawab Wajed Ali Shah in
1856, they packed his bags and sent him to Calcutta. The sad Nawab
came along singing “Jab chhod chaley Lucknow nagari/tab
haal adam par kya guzri?” and
settled down with his entourage in Metiaburuj (meaning 'clay bastion'
in Bengali) in the English port-city. With him, the tradition of the
Lucknavi biryani also
reached Calcutta. What remained behind in Lucknow, judging by what
you get in the old parts of the town today, was fantastic stuff. It was perhaps a tad more spicy than how its successor in the new imperial capital of South Asia would turn out to be. Here it took
on a new life. The Calcutta biryani
came to find its ideal companions in the boiled egg and the boiled
whole potato.
In
Calcutta, even neighbourhood joints are serving biryani
these days, as are the different
multi-cuisine mumbo jumbos. Obviously there is no reason to take them
seriously. The headquarter of the city's biryani craft is the Muslim-dominated Park Circus-Mallick Bazaar area in South
Calcutta. It houses several restaurants that serve quality biryani.
The more famous ones are Shiraz and Rahmania in Mallick Bazaar,
Zeeshan and Arsalan in Park Circus. Among these, Shiraz and Rahmania
are really by-gone glories. Arsalan is the best among these joints. For some
time now, the Arsalan biryani
is among the best in the city. The suppleness of the meat, the aroma
of the rice and the brilliant kabab accompaniments will surely make
anybody's day. No wonder it has three outlets between Park Circus
7-Points Crossing and Park Street and more in other areas.
Further
south, there are a couple of good joints around the Gariahat-Golpark
area. The older ones, Hatari and Bedouin serve standard quality
biryani. But two new
joints are grabbing the limelight these days. One is Ta'aam, right
next to Priya Cinema on Rashbihari Avenue. The other is Southern
Aminia right next to Mouchak at Golpark (this one being named after the leading biryani joint of the past -- Aminia -- in the Esplanade area). Ta'aam may be a tad more expensive than the other places, but they make it more than worth your money. Also, the prices of biryani has increased quite a lot over the past 6/7 years. But in terms of the quality of meat, the subtlety of the taste and the aroma of the dish, these two places will leave you starstruck. If you are wondering when or
where the hell these cropped up from, you are backdated buddy. You
may call them upstarts, but I am telling you, the best biryani
of the city is rolling out of their kitchens even as we speak.
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| Ta'aam |
Some of the more upscale restaurants of the city, like Flame and Grill, Sigree and Barbeque Nation, also serve very good biryani. Much of their biryani is genuinely delicious, and the flavours are quite light and subtle. But for me, the unlimited tide of kababs that these places serve in the beginning of the buffet always spoils the biryani fun. By the time one reaches the biryani one is already struggling to make space in one's stomach by reshuffling the hurriedly gobbled kababs. In any case, the high price of the buffet means that for the average food-enthusiast, it can't be the everyday option.
Barring the Dhakai kachchi biryani, all
this while we have been talking about mutton biryani
(who eats chicken biryani anyway?). Beef biryani
is considerably rare in Calcutta, although one gets it at the small
Muslim-owned joints around the Park Circus area, like Nafeel or
al-Habib. To be honest, they are not very good. However, the bloody
best biryani I have ever had is in fact outside the city proper. It's
on the railway station premises of Baruipur, a half-an-hour train
ride from Sealdah. The place, called Asma, serves the most delicious
beef biryani and beef chaanp in the world. You can't even begin to
imagine how delicious it is, so don't waste your time. The rice is
nothing extraordinary; in fact one may argue that Ta'am or Southern
Aminia's rice is better. But their beef is the softest biryani
meat I have ever had. The supple, succulent and tender beef is so
good that it will make you want to sleep with it. The aroma of the
beef spices up the entire rice and makes you want to brave the
crowded trains of the Sealdah-Baruipur route day and night. If
possible, catch a train and see for yourself what you have been
missing on.
Recently the Calcutta biryani has also taken the national capital by storm. The Kolkata Biryani House at the Market 1 in CR Park, with its assortments of biryani, chaanp and rezala, is already a rage in the Bengali circles of South Delhi. Word in the street is that the research output of budding Bengali social scientists of the nearby Jawaharlal Nehru University has increased manifold since the opening of the joint.
One needs to acknowledge that given all the diversities of biryani traditions in South Asia (obviously not including the various pseudo-biryani traditions of the north and the south), there are rival claims to culinary greatness. Against this backdrop, we
can either be tolerant and stupid and say that 'to each her own', or we can be brutal and truthful and admit that the Calcutta biryani
is the greatest of all Mughal biryanis. The choice is yours.
