Until recently, I only trusted haleem, khichda and nihari as the best kind if I ate them at friends’ weddings catered by specialists, or during a Ramzan trail through Bohri Mohalla with seasoned experts who knew their way. Recently however, I’ve noticed that these meaty joys can be found all over the city, and they’re nicely done too. Chains offer them. Fine dining restaurants offer them. Takeaway places can whip up a bagful in 10 minutes. And when Carter Road went car-less last week, the latest delivery joint offering khichda and haleem set up a stall that pretty much sold out.
How is it that dishes that take tremendous effort and time, flavours of which come from royalty centuries past, are becoming more popular today? Last month, there may have been excitement about the Desi Food Truck in New York City selling a small bowl of haleem for about Rs200 and calling it soup, but the history of the dish can be traced to the same 16th century document that informed us about kheema: the Ain-E-Akbari by Abul Fazl. There the recipe for “halim” begins thus “The meat, wheat, gram, spices, and saffron, as in the preceding.” The preceding lines outline the recipes for harisah and kashk, both of which sound like sparer and more basic versions of haleem (which continue to exist in other forms in countries like Greece).
Haleem, like kheema, is believed to have originated in Persia. But like most foods – with conquests, immigration, trade, modern conveniences – communities have made it their own, adapting the recipe to their tastes. It reached Hyderabad with the Arabs, and became popular because of the Nizams. In 2010, Hyderabadi haleem was given GI status, and last year Gati Couriers tied up with Hyderabad bakery, sweet shop and haleem purveyor Pista House to deliver their GI-certified haleem across the country.
On a simplistic level, khichda is distinguished from haleem by its texture. In haleem, the slow-cooked stew is continuously worked with a wooden mallet called a mandhreb until it becomes a rich homogenous paste. Khichda has more texture; its individual ingredients can be distinguished, with soft but whole chunks of meat. Of course, the proportions of ingredients and spices vary from cook to cook.
Nihari’s origins are thought to be closer to us both in time and place. The national dish of Pakistan is said to have been invented in 18th-century Delhi. While its origins are uncertain, this much is sure – its fortifying richness makes it ideal for breakfast. Nihari gets its mouth-coating texture from the gelatinous stock made with marrow-filled shank bone and even possibly offal, most likely jabaan or tongue. It should ideally be deeply spicy, and should have a layer of fat floating on it, topped at least with julienned ginger and finely chopped chillis, if not some more marrow. Modern life may not accommodate the traditional accompaniment of a piece of fried brain, but there’s really no excuse for cooks buying ready nihari and khichda mix on Amazon.
WHERE TO TRY THEM
Charminar
From this newest entrant in the market, call for the gelatinous, rich and red bade ki nihari, as well as the spicy khichda with plenty of bite. Call 98339 47142 to place an order.
The Golconda Bowl
Hyderabadi-style mutton haleem here is cooked for ten hours (first for five hours on wood, and then for five hours on coal), while being mashed continuously with the wooden mandhreb traditionally used to soften the dish. After the restaurant shuts, the kitchen is taken over by the haleem cooks who work at it all night. General manager Nitin Sondhi said that 70 to 80 per cent of GB’s haleem consists of boneless mutton, from which most of the fat has been removed. Hotel Metro Palace, opposite Globus Cinema, Hill Road, Bandra (West). Tel: 022 2643 1234.
Jafferbhai’s Delhi Darbar
Their mutton khichda looks like a thick dal ki khichdi with soft cubes of boneless mutton embedded in it. It contains no red or green chillis but gets all its heat from ginger and whole black pepper. Make sure to ask for extra brishta (caramelised fried onions) and add lime to balance its richness. 70, Dinath Building, 195/197 Patthe Bapurao Road, opposite Alfred Cinema, Grant Road. Tel: 022 6163 2841. For other locations, see here.
Kakori House
The sap green, unctuous mutton haleem is not much to look at, but the meat and spices are perfectly balanced in this glossy and ridiculously smooth paste. Skip the nihari – it looks good, but doesn’t come close to the one at Charminar. Shops 4 & 5, Building 25, Linkway CHS, Meera Tower, Oshiwara, Andheri (W). Tel: 022 6453 9950. For other locations, see here.
Olympia Coffee House
The mutton khichda here is available only as a Wednesday lunch special. It has so many fans, says owner Ilyas Saji, that it runs out within two hours after the restaurant opens at 11am. The dominant grains are broken wheat and white jowar, followed by small quantities of tuvar, masoor and mung dals, spiked with green chillis. Saji says they try to keep it mild and light, “as close to homemade as possible.” Rahim Mansion, near Colaba Police Station, Colaba Causeway, Colaba. Tel: 022 2202 1043.
Zaffran
Zaffran’s mutton nihari follows the spicier Pakistani recipe, according to owner and chef Chetan Sethi. The meat stock, which contains not just bones, but also trimmings, tongue and organ meats for the fullest extraction of flavour, is strained and combined with a paste of brown roux and browned onions, and cooked with their special in-house masala mix, which is made by grinding 12 spices into a powder. Each bowl contains two marrow bones and three pieces of boneless meat. Infiniti Mall 2, Link Road, Malad (West). Tel: 6450 2828. For other locations, see here.
Roshni Bajaj Sanghvi is a Mumbai-based food journalist, a contributing editor at Voguemagazine, a graduate of the French Culinary Institute in New York City, and the restaurant reviewer for the Hindustan Times newspaper in Mumbai.