An Amaltas tree in full bloom in Delhi summer Photo: Rachit Dhawan
JASMINE AND JINNS
Memories and Recipes of My Delhi
SADIA DEHLVI
Photographs
Omar Adam Khan
For
Amma, Abba, Nani, Daddy, Ammi, Apa Saeeda, Mamoo Abdullah
and my extended Dehlvi family
and all those for whom ‘Dehli’ is a way of life
Photo: Mayank Austen Soofi
Contents
Gratitude
A Slice of the Past
An Ancestral Journey
Punjabi Paranoia
The Mystique of Shanjahanabad
Dilli Dastarkhwan
A Community Life
Shama Kothi
Apa Saeeda – A Childhood Bond
Growing up with Amma and Abba
The Golden Days
Jasmine and Jinns
My Nani from Karachi
Early Lessons
The Halal Word
Ammi and I
Some All-Time Favourites
Aloo Salan – Potatoes with Meat
Khadey Masaley ka Qorma – Mutton Stew
Chicken Stew
Qorma
Yakhni Pulao
Matar Pulao – Green Pea Pulao
Biryani
Kofta – Meat Balls in Gravy
Shabdegh
Tamatar Qeema – Tomato Mince
Khadey Masala ka Qeema – Whole Spice Mince
Shaami Kebab
Nargisi Kofta
Winter
Gajarbhatta – Carrot Porridge
Haleem
Paya – Trotters
Kali Mirch Pasanda – Black Pepper Mutton
Salan – Mutton with Vegetable
Shola
Sem Beej Salan – Green Fava Beans with Mutton
Matar Salan – Peas with Mutton
Boont Salan – Green Chickpeas with Mutton
Gajar Salan – Carrots with Mutton
Shalgam Salan – Turnips with Mutton
Nashpati Salan – Pears with Mutton
Kela Salan – Bananas with Mutton
Gobi Gosht – Cauliflower with Mutton
Chuqandar Gosht – Beetroot with Mutton
Gandley Gosht – Mustard Greens with Mutton
Dal Gosht – Lentil with Mutton
Lobia Gosht – Black Eyed Peas with Mutton
Matar Qeema – Green Pea Mince
Kachri Qeema – Marinated Smoked Mince
Palak Qeema –Spinach Mince
Lobia Qeema – Black Eyed Peas Mince
Murgh Musallam – Whole Chicken
Fish
Machli Salan – Fish Curry
Tali Machli – Fish Fry
Matar ki Phaliyaan – Peas in the Pod
Shalgam Bhujia – Turnip Crush
Bathua Roti – Spinach Roti
Winter Sweet Dishes
Maleeda
Anday ka Halwa – Egg Halwa
Summer
Kachnar Kali Salan – Flower Buds with Mutton
Kachnar Bharta –Kachnar Crush
Goolar Bharta – Goolar Crush
Khatti Meethi Aam Chutney – Sweet and Sour Mango Chutney
Bhindi Salan – Okra with Mutton
Sangri Salan- Sangri with Mutton
Nun Paani Achaar
Tindey Salan – Round Gourd with Mutton
Ghiya Gosht – Bottle Gourd with Mutton
Arvi Salan – Colocasia Root with Mutton
Turiayan Gosht – Ridge Gourd with Mutton
Bhuni Moong Dal – Dry Yellow Lentil
Karela Qeema – Bitter Gourd Mince
Qeema Bharey Karela – Bitter Gourd with Mince Stuffing
Kacha Aam Qeema – Green Mango Mince
Chana Dal Karela – Lentil with Bitter Gourd
Summer Sweet Dishes
Aam Pulao – Mango Rice
Anannaas Pulao – Pineapple Rice
Monsoon
Hari Mirch Qeema – Green Chilli Mince
Shimla Mirch Qeema – Green Capsicum Mince
Dal Bhari Roti
Aam Chutney – Fresh Mango Chutney
Besani Roti
Kadhi
Ramzan
Dahi Badey
Chaat Masala
Qalmi Badey
Qeemay ki Goliyan – Mince Pakora
Kachalu – Fruit Chaat
Dry Chana Dal – Lentil Snack
Eid
Sevaiyan
Eid al Azha
Raan Musallam
Raan Musallam Masala
Kaleji – Liver Curry
Fried Mutton Chops
Masala Chops with Thick Gravy
Meetha – Sweet Dishes
Kheer
Shahi Tukda – Royal Bread Pudding
Zarda – Flavoured Rice
Pickles and Chutneys
Arq-e-Nana Chutney – Sweet Sour Chutney
Neembu Achaar – Lemon Pickle
Shalgam Pani Achaar – Turnip Water Pickle
Lasan Lal Mirch Chutney – Garlic Red Chilli Chutney
About the Book
About the Author
Copyright
In the name of Allah Most Merciful Most Compassionate
The best amongst you are those who feed others and offer greetings of peace to those whom you know and those whom you do not know.
Prophet Muhammad
Gratitude
Traditionally, family recipes were never shared with outsiders but just passed on from mother to daughter. Some of my aunts took offence on being asked for recipes. Decades ago, I remember a guest insisting that my aunt tell her the recipe of the nihari she had served. Avoiding the request, she offered to send the family the preparation whenever they wished. The lady remained adamant, saying it would not be right to impose frequent requests. Reluctantly, my aunt gave the recipe, which the lady hurriedly noted. After the visitor left, I expressed surprise at her large heartedness. With a mischievous smile she retorted, ‘I am not so foolish. I did not reveal one main ingredient! She can never make it taste the way I prepare nihari.’
Withholding a key ingredient is a standard trick deployed by many women and professional cooks. In yesteryears, a woman’s worth was pretty much valued by housekeeping skills, and cooking played a large role. When the menfolk went to work, women’s lives revolved around the kitchen.
Initially, I anticipated problems in getting my aunts to share their cooking secrets. Instead, I found them willing and excited. Age has caught up with them and some are no longer around. Fortunately, they have passed on their culinary secrets to their daughters, and some to their daughters-in-law. Given the modern sharing culture, the younger lot happily gave me some of these recipes.
I had a wonderful time writing this book as it connected me to relatives whom otherwise one meets mostly at family weddings and funerals. I enjoyed visiting the homes of aunts and cousins, and they all fed me their delicious specialties.
Jalebi: A popular Indian sweet
I am particularly grateful to my amazing cousins Qurratulain, Farah, Asiya and my aunts Khala Rabia and Choti Auntie Ameena for helping me with recipes over the years. When cooking something that I wasn’t confident about, I sought their advice. God bless the souls of Amma, Abba, Nani, Mamoo Abdullah and Apa Saeeda, from whom I learnt much more than just about food. I remain indebted to Ammi, my mother, for her constant criticism and I hope someday she approves of my cooking! I am sharing these recipes as an effort to preserve my ‘Dehli’ that is fading away.
I cooked all the recipe dishes which were photographed at home. Apart f
rom the goolar, kachnar bharta and sangri salan, which I made for the first time, all other dishes are cooked regularly in my kitchen. I hope you try these recipes and that they bring cheer to your table.
All the new photos unless specified otherwise have been taken by Omar Adam Khan. I thank him for these wonderful photographs that make this book as much his as mine. Thank you Sidrah Fatma Ahmed for helping with all the photo shoots.
I thank Vaseem, my brother, and Himani, my sister-in-law, for their indulgence and support. Immense gratitude to Mayank Austen Soofi, the official taster at home, for his suggestions at various stages of the manuscript. Thank you Jojy for typesetting all my books and helping design the pages. I thank Shreya Punj of HarperCollins for her dedication. Thank you Shaaz for your tireless efforts in creating the cover. I remain grateful to Karthika V.K. for accompanying me on my journey as an author. From the depths of my heart, I thank all those who bless my table by sharing meals at my home.
Khari Baoli Spice Market in Delhi
A Slice of the Past
Little is known about Delhi’s food culture before the arrival of the Delhi sultans in the twelfth century. These sultans belonged to warrior clans of Central Asia, where food was more about survival than sophistication. The refinement in their cuisine came through interactions with local Indian communities and the abundance of fruits, vegetables and spices available here. The tables of Qutubuddin Aibak, Iltutmish and Razia Sultan consisted of meat dishes, dairy products, fresh fruits and varieties of local vegetables.
The fourteenth-century poet and historian Amir Khusrau wrote of the tables of Sultan Muhammad bin Tughlaq which consisted of about 200 dishes. The royal kitchen fed about 20,000 people daily. In his famous Persian Mathnawi Qiran us Sa’dain, the epic poem that later came to be known as Mathnavi dar Sifat-e-Dehli for its glorification of Delhi’s culture, Khusrau writes, ‘The royal feast included sharbet labgir, naan-e-tanuri, sambusak, pulao and halwa. They drank wine and ate tambul after dinner.’ He describes the addition of two varieties of bread, naan-e-tunuk, a lighter bread, and naan-e-tanuri, bread baked in a tandoor. In addition, Khusrau mentions delicacies such as sparrow and quail, along with a variety of sharbet made from roses, pomegranates, oranges, mangoes and lemons.
In the Travels of Ibn Battuta in Asia and Africa, translated by Gibb, Ibn Battuta describes a royal meal at the table of the early fourteenth century Sultan Ghiyasuddin at Tughlaqabad as a lavish spread comprising ‘thin round bread cakes; large slabs of sheep mutton; round dough cakes made with ghee and stuffed with almond paste and honey; meat cooked with onions and ginger; sambusak that were triangular pasties made of hashed meat with almonds, walnuts, pistachios, onions, and spices placed inside a piece of thin bread fried in ghee, much like the samosa of today; rice with chicken topping; sweet cakes and sweetmeat for dessert.’
Spices and dry fruits in Khari Baoli, Delhi
Ibn Battuta mentions sharbet of rose water that was served before meals, which ended with paan. He writes of mangoes, pickled green ginger and peppers; jackfruit and barki, a yellow gourd with sweet pods and kernels; sweet oranges; wheat, chickpeas, lentils and rice. Sesame and sugarcane were also cultivated. He describes Indians eating millet, especially pounded millet made into a porridge cooked with buffalo milk. Peas and moong dal cooked with rice and ghee were served for breakfast. Animals were fed barley, chickpeas, leaves as fodder and were even given ghee.
The arrival of the Mughals in the sixteenth century added aroma and colour to Delhi’s culinary range. Although Babur, the founder of the Mughal dynasty, had little time for Indian food. In Baburnama, his memoirs, the emperor complains about the lack of muskmelons, grapes and other fruits plentiful in his Afghan homeland. Babur’s son and successor Emperor Humayun is credited with bringing refined Persian influences to Delhi’s cuisine. This resulted from his years spent in Persia after having been defeated by Sher Shah Suri. The fusion of Indian and Persian styles of cooking came to be known as ‘Mughal cuisine’.
In Ain-i-Akbari, Abul Fazal, Emperor Akbar’s courtier, mentions that cooks from Persia and various parts of India were part of the royal kitchen. This led to the merging of Turkish, Afghan, Indian and Persian ways of cooking. Fazal chronicles that more than 400 cooks from Persia formed the large kitchen establishment that had head cooks, official tasters and numerous administrative departments.
He writes about rice from different regions, duck and waterfowl from Kashmir and special breeds of chicken raised for banquets, handfed with pellets flavoured with saffron and rosewater. Beef was rarely eaten, and pork was forbidden. A kitchen orchard and garden supplied fresh vegetables and fruits such as lemons, pomegranates, plums and melons. Many dry fruits, including almonds, were cultivated. A typical meal consisted of dozens of dishes made from grains, vegetables, rice, goat, chicken and fowl. Indian delicacies such as poori, khandwi and daal-kachori became part of the royal table. In addition to these accounts, Ain-i-Akbari contains the ingredients and ways of preparing various types of halwa, pulao, kebab, meat and vegetables.
During the rule of Emperor Shah Jahan in the seventeenth century, the Mughal Empire reached its zenith. Exquisite architecture, extravagance and luxury came to define Delhi’s royal court. The cooks continued to be trained in Persian, Indian and Afghan methods. Despite political decline in later centuries, the Mughals maintained their lavish lifestyles. The indulgent tables of the last Mughal Emperor Bahadur Shah Zafar are legendary. The Mughals faded away, but left Delhi with a cuisine that remains an integral part of the city’s cultural heritge.
Red chillies were brought to India by the Portuguese who began its cultivation in Goa during the sixteenth century. Two hundred years later, red chillies made their way to Delhi.
Shah Jahan’s daughter, Princess Jehanara laid out Chandni Chowk, which acquired the reputation of one of the world’s best bazaars. A canal flowed through it, beautifying the area and providing the city with an accessible water body. During the reign of the Mughal Emperor Muhammed Shah Rangeela in the eighteenth century, the canal’s water became polluted. The royal hakims advised the citizens of Delhi to eat chillies to help purge toxins from the body. This eventually led to the inclusion of red chillies in Delhi’s food. The romance with chillies created Delhi’s famous chaats such as paani ke batashe, papri, chaat pakori, qalmi badey, samosa and kachori.
The cuisine of Shahjahanabad, the walled city which is now called Purani Dilli, has traditionally consisted of both non-vegetarian and vegetarian food. The Muslims and Kayasthas relished meat-based dishes. The Banias and Jains of the city were strict vegetarians, their food free from onion and garlic.
During the Mughal and British period, Banias and Jains were mainly moneylenders, working in the finance departments of the royal court. Khazanchi Wali Gali continues to be known by the residential haveli of the Jain treasurer of Emperor Shah Jahan. Hindus and Muslims both contributed to Delhi’s composite culture. Hindu areas were called wara, such as Maliwara and Jogiwara. Muslim areas were mostly called walan, such as Chooriwalan, Suiwalan and Charkhawalan. Mohallas were usually named after the goods sold or manufactured in them.
A large number of the Kayastha community worked in the Mughal courts as record keepers and administrators. Kayastha cuisine became influenced by the Mughal table spread. A variety of traditional Kayastha dishes are made with mutton. Many women from this community did not eat meat, but cooked it in their homes for the menfolk.
Kayasthas are known for their love of good food. Some of their signature dishes are bharva pasanda, ajwain arvi, khadey masaley ka gosht and bhuna gosht. The Kayasthas of Delhi would say in jest, ‘Hum parindon main patang aur chaarpai ke alava har chaar pai waali cheez khaate hain,’ barring paper kites we eat everything that flies and apart from the wooden four-legged cot, we eat everything with four legs.
In the old days, Kayasthas did not appear to limit themselves by religious dietary restrictions. During Mughal rule, the community largely lived in the old city. When the British took c
ontrol of Delhi and moved their administrative quarters to Civil Lines, many Kayastha families shifted to spacious bungalows in this new colony.
The British brought their dietary influences of tea, bread, egg and toast for breakfast, roast chicken, soup and the all-time favourite caramel custard. Delhi’s elite adopted some of these English food habits while retaining most of their traditional cuisine. After the Partition in 1947, when the Punjabi immigrants made Delhi their home, the city’s culinary ethos changed considerably.
Inside Jama Masjid, Delhi
Photo: Vaseem Ahmed Dehlvi
An Ancestral Journey
A few years ago, I travelled by the comfortable Daewoo Express bus service from Lahore to Islamabad. The bus stopped midway at Bhera for a short break. On seeing the signboard, I became overwhelmed with emotion, got off the bus and touched the ground. My Saraiki-speaking ancestors hailed from Bhera before they migrated to Delhi.
I grew up on stories of my community that calls itself ‘Qaum Punjabian’. A community of merchants, we are commonly referred to as ‘Dehli Saudagaran’. Given our long association with the city, Abba, my paternal grandfather, adopted ‘Dehlvi’ as the family name. It simply means ‘one from Delhi’. The old shurufa, nobility, pronounce Delhi as ‘Dehli’ in chaste Urdu although ‘Dilli’ is commonly used.
Family legends tell this story set in the mid-thirteenth century. Families of our biradari, community, were spread over Bhera, Khoshab, Chinot and Sargodha in Punjab. Khatri caste Hindus, they excelled in trade. Once, a group of elders from the biradari headed for a dip in the sacred Ganga river. Somewhere along the way, they encountered the famous Sufi from Afghanistan, Hazrat Shamsuddin Sabswari. He miraculously made them see the Ganga right before their eyes. The whole community embraced Islam at the hands of Hazrat Shamsuddin. His dargah is in Multan, where the tombstone says he died in the year 1276.
To honour Hazrat Shamsuddin, many families added Shamsi to their name. In Moradabad and a few other cities of Uttar Pradesh we are also known as the Shamsi Biradari. On becoming Muslims, the Ahluwalias began to call themselves Allahwalas and the Bahris became Baadis. Some families like the Mehndirattas, Kathurias, Chandnas, Chawlas and Chabras retained their Hindu surnames. Most just dropped their surnames and came to be known by their professions or products they sold. The community has Khilonewaley, Cigarettewaley, Teenwaley, Ghadiwaley, Lacewaley, Chatriwaley, Chashmewaley and many other waleys. My family is called Shamawaley, after the Urdu magazine we published.