The Calcutta Biryani

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.

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.

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.

Beef Divine

Couple of months back, two of my friends and me boarded a south-bound train from Sealdah. As the geography of the city around us changed rapidly, we held our breath and waited for what we had heard to be the best beef in and around the city. We alighted at Baruipur in less than an hour and started looking for this piece of heaven called Aasma. It turned out to be a humble, though bustling, joint, in the market adjoining the station, just beside the rail tracks. A big fat man sat just outside the place, stirring occasionally the sinfully spicy-looking meat sizzling on a gigantic pan. The scent of beef turned us on instantly! 


Salivating, we headed into what was a large hall, cramped with long tables and benches on both of their sides. There was hardly any empty spot around and we barely managed to sit down and grab some table-space. We ordered for beef biryani and beef chaap straightaway. These arrived in no time and in we went at once! Man, the biryani was just too good. Not only the quality of rice, or its titillating fragrance, which could compete with any Park Circus restaurant, but also the meat! It was remarkably nice, tender and juicy, inspite of it being the tougher red meat. The spices had seeped into the meat really well and brought the entirety of the rice alive. However, the goodness of the biryani  was closely contested by the quality of the chaap, which to say the least, was divine. Oil, the spices and the meat gelled so well that they were practically inseparable. The suppleness of the beef surprised us here as well. We binged on like hypnotised slaves until we could literally hold no more.

On our way back, we thanked the Cow, our Holy Mother, a million times for sacrificing herself everyday for the upliftment of our food-craving spirits in so delicious a manner! Hail the most tasty demi-god of the Pagans! 

The Love Story of Meat and Cheese: Mutton Arsalan Kabab

Arsalan serves some of the best kababs and arguably the best biryani in Calcutta. The restaurant has several branches. The original one stands on the Circus Avenue, beside the flyover, at a point where it just rises above one's head. The busiest one stands proudly at the Five-Points Park Circus crossing, with an open kitchen grilling kababs right in front of you. However, the most plush and spacious one is undoubtedly the one near the food capital of Calcutta, Park Street, only a few steps down Muzaffar Ahmad Street.


Now Arsalan Kabab comes in both chicken and mutton. Six pieces of smoked meat is served wrapped in delicate and fragrant cheese. I  have always liked the mutton one better. I feel that the tenderness of Arsalan's mutton goes better with the softness of the texture and fragrance of the cheese. However, due to some strange reason, the Circus Avenue one doesn't serve this. So if you are looking specifically for Mutton Arsalan Kabab, be careful about the branch you pick.


The kabab is heaven. A cliche, may be, but once you have it, you will know, that there is not another word that can describe it. As soon as you put it into your mouth, the fragrance of the cheese combines with the smoked meat and  practically melts into your mouth. Mmmm...there can't be any more words. Not only because it will be utterly futile to describe the experience any further in dry words, but also because I am salivating!