Eat, pray, love

Puneetinder Kaur Sidhu

We are two weeks into the month of Ramzan, a period of fasting observed by Muslims around the world. During this period, adherents are required to wake up at the crack of dawn and partake of sehri, one of the two meals permitted through the day. The other, iftar, is consumed after breaking the fast with a handful of dates and sherbet, following prayers at sunset. A notoriously night-owlish existence has meant sleeping through the time when observing friends are tucking into their khajla and pheni in sweetened milk before sunrise. Then again, I have made myself eagerly available whenever an iftar invite has come my way. I reminisce about a few memorable ones here, including a Ramzan food walk that took me to Jama Masjid and its surrounds in Delhi.

The massive forecourt of the iconic mosque teemed with families and friends awaiting the call for maghrib (evening prayer), before they settle down for the meals they’d brought along. Others would snack upon those provided free at the mosque, alongside a refreshing glass of that most evocative of Ramzan drinks, Rooh Afza. We were headed for a meatier affair, however. Waiting for us in the aromatic smoke-choked alleys beyond the mosque were the thread-wrapped sutli kebabs at Qureshi’s, the keema goli that Haji Mohammad Hussain is known for. Still ahead was Bilal’s nihari, a slow-cooked shank stew, and Babu Bhai’s crispy boti kebab. Sweet cravings were assuaged with the shahi tukda and phirni at Cool Point. Gur ka sherbet at Pahadi Imli, and Nawab Qureshi’s Rooh Afza-infused milk, with chunks of watermelon, provided respite from the mugginess.

Haleem, a pasty mutton dish that travelled to the Deccan with the Asaf Jahi rulers, is a Ramzan-special that Hyderabad can’t get enough of. Its best versions are enjoyed at Pista House and Shah Ghouse, though both have eluded me good and proper. The closest I have gotten to any version of the GI-tagged Hyderabadi Haleem was in Vizag a couple of years ago, where I slurped up a bowlful of the wholesome dish at Paradise Restaurant, another Hyderabad stalwart. Another time in Lucknow, an iftar invite stunned with the sheer variety in delicacies. There were matar ki chaat, pakodas, shaami, galauti and kakori kebabs, a host of pulaos and biryanis, and desserts that included sheer korma (vermicelli), mutanjan (sweet rice), and a flaky sweet called shaak. In Kanpur, that year, I was at an iftar dinner that included the outstanding chicken biryani from Baba Foods, and kulfi and suji laddoos from the amusingly named Thagoo Ke Ladoo.

Most indelible is the one I was summarily included into while on a visit to Dewa Sharif, mausoleum of 19th-century Sufi Haji Waris Ali Shah, in Barabanki. I was waiting for the qawwalis that were to follow the roza iftar. I was soaking in the calm bonhomie around me when a young girl placed a bowl with dates and mango slices before me. She returned with kebabs, biryani and seviyan. That I wasn’t an adherent made little difference, my ‘aur nahin please’ even less; her family was determined to share their meal with this complete stranger. I graciously accepted. Surely a sign that ganga-jamuni tehzeeb is deliciously well.