Former state, currently union territory

Capital: Srinagar (May-October)

Jammu (November-April)

The first place I decided to visit through my Dining Chair Travels is Jammu and Kashmir. A place of extraordinary beauty; marred by violence and bloodshed. I read about this word called Kashmiriyat or Kashmiri-ness, which is the capability of Kashmiri people to live in peace and harmony with each other. Even Mahatma Gandhi had quoted, when the rest of India suffered in communal disharmony that: if there is a ray of hope for humanity, it is there on the soil of Kashmir. This was all before bloodshed took hold of Kashmir too, but I guess inspite of that, the true essence of Kashmiriyat does not go. Some things do get embedded in people, handed down through generations in the form of culture and traditions. And also through food.

The first time I heard about the Wazwan was through my sister. She herself read about it in Salman Rushdie’s “Shalimar the Clown”. She explained to me about this mind-numbing 36 course meal that is almost entirely meat based. As she described the kinds of food, I could imagine the various tastes and textures in my mouth, the aromas from the dishes, sounds of the cutlery, the laughter, the conversations, and the breathtaking view of the dishes in their assorted colour. And yes, my mouth watered and my brain signalled to me that I should eat even when I wasn’t hungry. My sister has Kashmiri students who have promised to invite her for their weddings with the traditional Wazwan feast. I have been hounding my sister ever since to add me as her plus one.

For now travel anywhere is not possible except in my dining chair and in my mind. So to experience Kashmir in some form I decided to make Kashmiri mutton biryani. Biryani as a dish has many variations all over the subcontinent, in other parts of Asia and also in Southern Africa. In India itself there are different varieties ranging from what you find in Delhi and Lucknow, to Hyderabad, Tamil Nadu, Kerala, Andhra Pradesh and Karnataka. I haven’t heard much about Kashmiri biryani though. The common dish from Kashmir that people talk about without batting an eyelid is Rogan Josh. But I was in the mood for something different. That’s why the biryani.

I have become a regular of sorts at the butcher shop, that the butcher wallah uncle recognises and smiles at me even when I am wearing a mask. He even remembers what I bought the last time I visited his shop. I wish I had a memory like his. So I picked up a kilo of tender mutton for this meal. Kashmiris use mustard oil, their staple, warming oil for their cold climate. I unfortunately didn’t think it necessary and prepared it with the regular sunflower oil. I know Kashmiris all over will be giving me disapproving glances. I have decided to use mustard oil in future for the dishes that require it.

This is how it looked from the top of the handi.

It was a multi-coloured treat. The yellow of the mutton gravy, the red of the zaffrani, the green of the mint and coriander leaves, the brown of the fried onions, and in parts, the pure whiteness of the Basmati rice. The lamb was soft, with the meat infused with spices and almost leaving the bone. The flavours were mild and aromatic with nothing overpowering the other, unlike other biryanis that I’ve eaten. Each grain of rice here was coated in the flavoured oil. That makes a lot of difference to me because I love the smell of the biryani on my fingers after I eat it and the glossy feel of the oil on my lips. All the sensory experiences tally up to a meal well cooked and well enjoyed.

I wanted to try another dish and I chanced upon Kaddu ka Ambal, from the Dogra cuisine of Jammu. Who knew that a simple vegetable like the pumpkin could taste like that! At our home we have three or four variations in the preparation of the yellow pumpkin, including both dry and curry forms. After trying out the Ambal it was a unanimous decision to include it into our regular preparations.

You’ll have to taste it to know how the soft pieces of pumpkin, soaked in the sweet and sour gravy of tamarind and jaggery, with few flecks of mild bitterness in the form of fenugreek seeds, feels like in the mouth. It covers all the tastes in the mouth and leaves you craving for more. Ambal is traditionally served with Channah dal and rice, but trust me you won’t need the Channah dal at all.

Since I haven’t travelled to Jammu and Kashmir, and I haven’t eaten any home cooked meal of a Kashmiri, my references are only the two meals that I have prepared. Now I am sure that you understand my very justified reasons to hound my sister to take me as her plus one for a marriage feast there?

Anyway now I shall lick my fingers and strap myself on my dining chair and prepare to leave. Till next time, Jammu and Kashmir. Allah hafiz.