JOIN USThe kebab melts in your mouth, leaving behind a peppery aftertaste…it is the famous galouti that is the pride of nawabi cuisine in Lucknow.
The galoutis are served with mint chutney that lends an extra tang to the melt-in-the-mouth experience. I am at Alamgir, a modest eating joint in the bustling market of Aminabad in the capital city of Uttar Pradesh, but the food here is fit for a king.
Legend has it that when the ageing nawab, Wajid Ali Shah, lost all his teeth he ordered his bawarchi to make kebabs that needed no chewing. So the enterprising chef used raw papaya as a tenderiser to make the mutton kheema as soft as butter, and added a special blend of spices to satisfy the fastidious monarch’s taste buds.
A foodie’s paradise
Continuing the menu of royalty, my friend, who is taking me on a food trail of Lucknow, asks for soft, flaky kulchas and thin rumali rotis that I dunk in chicken istu (a distortion of stew) that has chunky pieces of chicken on a bed of thick, creamy gravy; followed by light, delicately flavoured mutton pulao with raita. Everything is cooked just right… no overcooking or over-spicing. True Lakhnavi food is made with care and cannot be put together in a hurried, slipshod manner.
Feeling rather satiated, I resist ordering more from the tempting array of kebabs and rotis, and decide to end the satisfying dinner with shahi tukde. Slices of fried bread soaked in saffron-flavoured syrup and topped with rabri, this is one dessert you can give up a kingdom for.
The following day, I am at Chowk, the older quarter of the city, to buy exquisite chikan kurtas. After an afternoon of reckless spending, munching on roadside andarsa (light rice and sesame fried puffs), I step into Radheylal Premium Sweets for tikki-chole, dahi wada, gol gappay (also called batasha). My mouth stuffed with a gol gappa, I stupidly ask the owner about the special chaat masala used in the dish. Of course, he won’t part with his secret and just smiles in reply. The chaat dishes have subtle spices, difficult to decipher, which make Lucknow chaat quite different from what you get in other parts of the country.
Raksha Bandhan finds me with my friend’s brother and his wife at Netram’s on Sriram Road. Famous for its kachoris, Netram was started in 1920 by Bhimsen Agarwal, who came here from Allahabad where his family ran an outlet that was established in 1854. Freshly fried kachoris with unlimited tamarind and raw mango chutney, raita and potato and pumpkin vegetables are served with warm hospitality by young boys who urge you to eat to your heart’s content. Plump, juicy imartis are a perfect end to a perfect brunch. From Abdul Halim Sharar’s book on Lucknow, written in the 1920s, I learn that while jalebis came from Arabia and Persia (called zalabia in Arabic), imartis were made by the Hindus of Lucknow.
Culinary culture
A wonderful amalgamation of various influences, the cuisine of Lucknow reflects the plurality of its culture. Hindus, Muslims and Christians have left their impact on the food habits of this elegant city. If fragrant pulaos and mouth-tickling chaats tempt you equally with their unique tastes, a large number of bakeries seduce you with soft, white, milk bread and crisp, vanilla, chocolate, pistachio and almond biscuits. Burma Biscuits, J J Bakeries and Mr Brown have excellent baked products that remind you of the period when the British ruled this province. Burma Biscuits, one of the oldest chain of bakeries, was started in 1944 by the Ahmed family, originally from Faizabad, who did business in Burma but returned to India during World War II.
Unfortunately, Kwality’s, started post-Independence, in the iconic Mayfair building in fashionable Hasratganj has closed down. In my teen years in Lucknow, we would have almond biscuits with a coke and ice-cream float at Kwality’s, after catching a Sunday morning film at Mayfair. It was the most stylish place to hang out in. Another popular joint that shut shop was Benbows, popular for its cheese straws and macaroons, and where politicians gathered for endless cups of tea. During the pre-Independence era, there was Valerio’s tea room, which seduced the taste buds of the late Ram Advani with its cream rolls. Advani, who ran a popular bookshop, was a fascinating raconteur of Lucknowbilia, and he vouched for Valerio’s superb confectionary.
This marvellous merging of food styles is evident also in the hospitable homes of the city’s old-time residents. In Meethu and Somu Roy’s open house in Maqbulganj, a locality where Hindus and Muslims have lived cheek-by-jowl for decades, I have the pleasure of eating a typical Bengali fish curry-rice lunch; and then nawabi-style mutton pulao, a green chilly-garlic raita, roomali rotis, and saffron-flavoured, almond-based chicken curry for dinner. The Roys are connoisseurs of good food and both husband and wife are master chefs. The dinner is nicely rounded off with rice kheer.
Even though Lucknow no longer has its traditional, laidback lifestyle, it still does have many of its gracious manners and this is seen in homes, modest eating joints and yes, even in its swanky new airport. Fortunately, nazakat and nafasat continue to be the leitmotiv of a city that is the capital of an increasingly lawless state.