A Bangladeshi family gets together to observe the chollisha, the fortieth day after the death of a beloved grandmother. A young woman, daughter of a man who sold sweets, remembers her father—with barfi. A man, recovering after a soured marriage and much angst, goes to his mother in an old age home, taking for her curd rice and mango pickle. In Rampur, a Sayedani, a woman descended from the Prophet, performs the pre-funeral ablutions for an old woman and waits for the taar curry and soft roti that is a must at such funerals. Another woman cooks for the spirit of an old relative on Shab-e-Barat.
The fiction half of Desi Delicacies: Food Writing from Muslim South Asia is largely tied to stories of loss, of people dying, people moving on, people moving away. Some die; some, like Raman’s mother in Farahad Zama’s But There Are Angels, are there mostly only in body, their minds having wandered away. Some are mere memories, and live on thus in the lives of those they leave behind. Some leave behind pain, others relief. All, however, connect to those they leave behind with food. There are stories here of people cooking that which the one gone loved, like Zulekha’s barfi in Uzma Aslam Khan’s The Origin of Sweetness or ilish pulao in Mahruba T Mowtushi and Mafruha Mohua’s Jackfruit and Tamarind. Or there are people, like the Sayedani, remembering the taar-roti because He once smuggled some out for her…
There are happier, lighter stories too, of which Asiya Zahoor’s The Hairy Curry is a delightful (but still thought-provoking) look into a teenaged servant’s cooking of nadroo yakhni, the Kashmiri dish of lotus stems in yoghurt gravy. Or there is Aamer Hussein and Sabeeha Ahmed Hussein’s What’s Cooking?, with its orange-peel zarda.
This is just the fiction half of this fascinating book; the first half is the non-fiction section, which consists of nine essays on Muslim South Asian food and cooking. While some of these are memoirs, like Nadeem Aslam’s The Homesick Restaurant, about the Pakistani diaspora connecting to its homeland through food, or Annie Zaidi’s Chewing on Secrets, others take different routes to travel the route of Muslim cooking. Historian Rana Safvi discusses the historical aspect of this food in Qissa Qorma aur Qaliya ka, while Tabish Khair, in his insightful Jootha draws a parallel (or not) between Dalits eating the jootha of upper castes, and old Muslim servants eating the jootha of those they served. Kaiser Haq’s Alhamdulillah: With Gratitude and Relish is a very interesting insight into Bangladeshi cooking, which marries the more well-known Muslim food of India and Pakistan with typically Bengali elements and ingredients. And Sanam Maher’s brilliant essay The Rise of Pakistan’s ‘Burger’ Generation shows how fast food, in the form of the burger, was brought to Pakistan and how it helped define a certain class and style.
Each essay and each story comes with its own (connected) recipe. There are simple, everyday recipes here, for comfort foods like khichri and maleeda. There are grand recipes, for dishes you would perhaps make only for a festive occasion, like the Rampuri taar curryor the tehsildari qorma. There are pickles and pulaos, burger patties and kanji: dishes widely removed from each other, and yet all in their own way a part of Muslim cooking from South Asia.
Highly recommended, not just for the food angle of it, but to get a glimpse of what it means to be a Muslim from South Asia.