India on My Platter (22 page)

Today, I was to meet a legend of sorts. He and his family had been cooking for the Pataudi family for generations. It was time to meet Chandu Bhai at his house. It was indeed an honour to be invited to cook and dine with him. He had previously been known for several years for the meat delicacies that he prepared, especially for the royal weddings that took place in Bhopal. His family had been cooking professionally for 250 years, almost when Bhopal came into existence. Chandu Bhai’s grandfather, Khan Abdullah, catered for more royal weddings than any one of us could imagine. He handed me an 80-year-old photograph of his grandfather cooking over huge pots lined up in a row. As he put it, their speciality was the Nawabi cuisine. For me, he was a teacher, and what he said was worth remembering. He took out time to cook with me and he taught me how to make
Chicken
Rizala
that had exceptional flavours. It was made of yoghurt and flavoured with coriander. The secret ingredient was the poppy seed that gave the dish the extra edge. This dish also happens to be very popular in Bengal.

C
HICKEN
R
IZALA

(Chicken served in a thick white gravy.)

Ingredients

Method

1.  Make an onion-ginger-garlic paste. Blend it nicely to make a smooth one.

2.  Soak the cashew nuts separately and make a paste with the poppy seeds.

3.  Add thick yoghurt to the chicken, along with onion-ginger-garlic paste, salt, pepper powder and nutmeg-mace powder. Mix and keep aside at least for an hour.

4.  Heat the
ghee
in a pan. Lightly pound the whole spices (cinnamon, cloves, red chillies, black and green cardamom, and black peppercorns) so they release fresh aromas and add this to the
ghee.
Add chicken. sauté the chicken in the pan until it seals its juices. Now pour in all the leftover or excess marinade.

5.  Cook on medium flame for five to six minutes. Once the yoghurt is thick, add the poppy-cashew nut paste. Cook for a minute and pour half cup of hot water. Check the seasoning and cover. Let it simmer on low flame till oil starts to float on top and the chicken is cooked through.

6.  Finish it with some sugar, Panadanas syrup and perfumed sweet essence. Serve hot.

∼

We sat down to eat after spending time together cooking. The menu had vegetable
saloni,
chicken
rizala, laccha parantha
and
kheer.
The
rizala
was my favourite; it smelt good, tasted even better, and felt at home in my stomach. The yoghurt made the curry tangy, the cashew nuts made the curry thick and rich and the poppy seeds made the curry slightly sweet. As per the tradition in Bhopal, a
paan
is eaten after every meal; so, we too did the same. It was the perfect ending to my meal.

Meal done, friendship struck, lessons learnt and soon, it was time to leave. My next destination was Gwalior, the home of the Scindias.

D
AY
67

Travelling from one region with a royal past, Bhopal, to another erstwhile royal kingdom, Gwalior.

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AY
68

12 October/ Gwalior

Gwalior is one of the most popular cities of Madhya Pradesh, because of its historical significance. The city and its fortress have been ruled by several Indian dynasties: the Mughals, Marathas and the Scindias. I wanted to experience both history and culture together so I picked a destination where I could find a bit of both; I went to see the Scindia School, situated within the Gwalior Fort. On my way, I also explored the fort and the very famous Telli Ka Mandir. Literally translated, it means oil man’s temple; the story goes that it was built by an oil dealer.

The fort overlooked the city and was quite expansive. The Scindia School is an Indian boarding school for boys, established in 1897, for children of the royal families. Presently headed by Jyotiraditya Scindia, it is still considered to be one of the 10 best boarding schools in India.

Before I met the principal, I headed straight for the mess. You will be surprised to know that this mess is unlike others and serves food that is fun for the children and is nutritious as well. I happened to arrive on the day when
samosa
was being served in the form of a money bag, thus making it visually appealing for the youngsters. The
kachori
was similar to the one available on the street, as they were stuffed with
dals,
but the
saada aloo
was a 150-year-old recipe. It is potato lightly coated in a special sauce made of tomatoes, turmeric,
ghee
and asafoetida. The alumni of the school still return to taste this dish; such is the power of food! It was good to see that the children were well fed and were happy to eat mess food; they ate anything from
dals
and biryani, to butter chicken. On speaking with the mess in charge I found out that as
jalebi
(sweet made of a coil of batter, fried, and steeped in syrup) and
rabri
(a mixture of thickened creamy milk and bits of cream that is sweetened with sugar and flavoured with saffron and cardamom powder) are extremely popular in Gwalior, they are served in school on the weekends as a treat.

After having a heavy breakfast, I went for a long walk and saw the polo grounds and cricket field. How I secretly wished I had studied here! On meeting the principal, Mr. Sainik Ghosh, I got to know that students were also encouraged to cook and try their own recipes sometimes in the mess. He believed that the real fun of living in a boarding school was to be able to cook those midnight meals, on your own, using all the innovation one could! They had provided each dormitory with ovens and stoves to facilitate the midnight cooking. I was thinking about my college days and how I must have made 100 recipes out of Maggi alone.

I saw the brass band perform after meeting the principal. Very nice and tuneful. I spent the afternoon with students and walking around the grounds. Education in India has so much potential, why can’t all children be educated like this? I was thinking to myself, if every little child of India had these facilities, learning environment and food, we would be the most powerful country in the world.

My Gwalior trip was a short one and I squeezed in all the little visits we had planned.

I now moved on to Agra, 120 km from where we were.

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AY
69

13 October / Agra

Gwalior to Agra was not a very long journey. I began my day with one of the Seven Wonders of the World in modern times. This wasn’t my first visit, but I was excited and anxious as if it was the first time around. Before I weigh you down with facts that you might not remember, I want to give you a few personal recommendations for your visit. If you can manage to visit the Taj Mahal at night and see its beauty being reflected in the moonlight, then that image will remain with you for the rest of your life. It appears pink in the morning, white in the day and becomes ethereal in the moonlight. An identical Taj Mahal was supposed to be built in black marble instead of white. The base of it can still be seen across the river. However, after the completion of the Taj, emperor Shah Jahan ordered the right hand of the chief mason to be cut off so that no one could ever recreate the monument. Of course, there isn’t any proof about this theory. According to one of the many other myths, the Taj Mahal is apparently sinking!

Built in 1653, even after more than 300 years, millions of people flock to this symbol of love every year. I revisited the tombs inside and the garden. I took a short break to rest against the cold marble of the structure and watched the world go by. Another point I want to make while we are on the subject is that everyone thinks of the Taj Mahal when they think of India, but just a few kilometres away is the equally grand Agra Fort. I didn’t stop for a visit this time, I drove by one of the outer walls of this 94 acre historical monument, that was first built in the eleventh century.

Kalakriti, a store on V.I.P. Road, caught my attention and I just had to stop to have a look. It resembled an old fort, designed specifically to set pace with the mood of the city. The entire building resembled the famous Buland Darvaza; the door was studded with semi-precious stones set in intricate patterns. A very aesthetically designed handicraft emporium, this art gallery also housed jewellery, Taj-miniatures, furniture, and marble table-tops. The store was also the very proud owner of the Mini Taj. By that, I not only mean in comparison to the original one, albeit, it came with a sound and light show of its own. This Taj came out of the floor and took part in a very theatrical display, surrounding the original love story behind the monument. It took 10 years and 20 people to build this monument, and was not up for sale. I also learnt, while there, that
pacchakari
was the art of setting colourful stones inside intricate carvings on marble. Introduced to India by the Mughals in the seventeenth century, it was the name given to the carvings on the walls of Taj Mahal. Kalakriti had this same marble work done on table-tops, coffee tables and display pieces. I never got a chance to cook at the Taj Mahal, so I found an opportunity to cook for and serve the owner and his wife a special valentine platter. I wanted an excuse to sit at one of the beautiful marble dinner tables. I thought I could be a good son and send my parents a gift from Agra. However, it seemed I needed to work for a few more years before I could shop at Kalakriti.

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14 October / Agra-Mathura

After a night filled with dreams about kings and palaces, I shook off the love cloud and headed out to eat.

I have had relatives who lived in Agra, so the roads were familiar to me. Every time they visited us in Delhi, they would bring the famous Agra
ka petha
(transparent soft candy, rectangular or cylindrical in shape, made from white pumpkin). I have a distinct memory of the colourful cardboard box bound by red string, with the words Panchhi Petha written in Hindi. Incidentally, fate had brought me to that very sweet shop today. Here, I met the third generation of the Goel family. I belong to the same caste as that of the Goel’s, and I took an instant liking to them. This store that I was in was the original Panchhi Petha and there were many other imitations as well. According to Ankit Goel, the great grandson, the original stores always had a picture of his great grandfather, Mr. Panchhi Lal; hence, the name. The first store was set up in 1952, in a small space at Noori Darwaza. They believed that whoever came to see the Taj, wouldn’t leave without a box of their famous
petha.

It was finally time to eat and revisit childhood memories. I tasted the candied pumpkin in its full range of colours and flavours. The plain
petha
was a cloudy sugary white and was made in big squares. The first bite was what all Indian children loved about the sweet. It felt like a glutinous fleshy fruit and the sugar rush quickly kicked in. The
petha
industry has certainly become very creative; the sweets are now sandwiched with flavours like chocolate, coconut and
kesar pista.
My favourite was the
gulab laddu,
which had candied rose petals in its centre. There was an
angoori petha,
shaped like
angoor
(grapes). The shop was a bright island of colours, light and attractive displays.

After this stop, it was time to get on the road for Mathura. I bid farewell and took lots of pictures to show to my sister.

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Mathura is not very far from Delhi; the driving time is only about three hours. Mathura is a holy city for the Hindus and is also called Braj Bhumi after the birth place of Lord Krishna. Again, this is a city I had been to many times, throughout my childhood. Narrow lanes, crowded markets, big temples; it paints an ancient picture of India. The city is filled with sounds of chanting from the temples, lending a very spiritual aura to the place. Since life in Mathura is best experienced in its tiny lanes, the only option I had was to walk and experience what the streets had to offer. Mathura is quite high up on the food quotient. Nearly everyone I know has a favourite from here, be it a
samosa, kachoris
for breakfast, or
bedmi
(stuffed lentil
puri) aloo
for lunch or
lassi
and dairy-rich desserts in the evening. You can get all these under one roof and that is the Brijwasi store. It is, without doubt, the largest food store in Mathura.

The best thing that happened, while I was there, was that I met up with Pulkit, a college friend of mine; he happens to be the third generation of the Brijwasi family. His grandfather began this business in the 1930s, on the banks of the river Yamuna. Today, that shop was one of their many manufacturing units. Most famous for their
pedas
(made from milk solids that are strained away from the whey, and cooked in sugar), Brijwasi now had a wide range of sweets and savouries.
Pedas
have a caramel colour that comes from the sugar being cooked. The main flavours added are cardamom, saffron and pistachio. It is said that
pedas
have been on the dessert table from the nineteenth century, and originated somewhere outside Mathura. The density, colour, sweetness, and milk content all depend on the person making it. This is explained by the fact that it is usually offered as
prasad
to the Gods. Each person has his or her own way of worshiping. Creativity sets apart different
pedas
in the city, however, all varieties instantly melt in your mouth, leaving behind a caramel milky flavour.