At the tail end of the 1990s, a youngster named Jamie Oliver burst on to the scene with his scandalously titled cooking show The Naked Chef. It had nothing to do with cooking in the nude. ‘Naked’ meant stripping away unnecessary complications to serve up food that kept the freshness, flavour and delicate essence of the ingredients as intact as possible.

Paradoxically enough, when one pays very close attention to nawabi cuisine, despite the grandeur of presentation, one discovers that that’s really what it’s all about.

Ask someone to describe the nawabi culture of the subcontinent in one word and in all probability that word would be ‘opulent’; opulence is indeed writ all over Dining with the Nawabs — a large, heavy tome of glossy, silver-edged pages bound in blue velveteen. Author Meera Ali and photographer Karam Puri spent two years documenting the cuisine of 10 princely states of Pakistan and India: Arcot, Bahawalpur, Bhopal, Chhatari, Hyderabad: Asman Jahi Paigah, Kamadhia and Surat, Khairpur, Kotwara, Rampur and Zainabad. Each state has its own section that begins with an overview of how the family came into being, makes note of the more prominent personalities, and ends with a collection of recipes particular to that house. Garnishing the history and anecdotes are beautiful photographs of the splendid residences, fabulous antiques and heirlooms and the present family — dressed in ornate traditional wear — sitting down to share a meal. Even more fascinating are the historical photos from the families’ archives that shed light on an age long gone.

A gorgeously produced coffee-table labour of love on nawabi cuisine enthrals with its anecdotes, history and recipes

Ali begins the book by summarising the development of nawabi cuisine: the Mughal style of cooking merged with Persian and Indian flavours and reached its zenith at the court in Delhi. When the Mughal empire began to weaken, craftspeople and artisans moved to the new culture capitals of Lucknow and Hyderabad, and from there into the employ of neighbouring rajas. Chefs were encouraged to experiment and innovate; hosts vied to win the hospitality stakes. Here Ali mentions the popular stories of nawabs inviting their peers to a meal where savouries were disguised as sweets, or an entire banquet — serving dishes and dastarkhwan et al — was crafted out of sugar.

I’ll admit that, initially, I didn’t pay much attention to the recipes. Korma is korma, after all. That’s why I was a little perplexed to learn that each nawabi kitchen employed hundreds of chefs, many of whom cooked one dish and one dish only. However, after a chat with a colleague who, unlike me, does not use packet ke tayyar-shuda masaalay [prepared masalas], I looked at the recipes a little more carefully. Aaah. No wonder one chef had a repertoire of about a zillion types of kebabs: the art of nawabi cooking is seriously naked. The chefs exercised great restraint over the number and amount of spices used, hence the difference between mint kebabs and anaar daana [pomegranate seed] kebabs. A recipe for biryani from Arcot requires two cloves to flavour a kilo of rice. Two. That’s it. Use three and who knows, you could end up with Bahawalpuri pulao.

How the cuisine of each state developed further is also a fascinating read. When marriages were made with strong women, the new bahu [daughter-in-law] brought a change of taste. When young men travelled abroad for studies, they came back with decided ideas on what they wanted to eat and how.

Ali includes fascinating stories of nawabi life that — to us mere mortals — might seem sufficiently outrageous. Get a tiger hooked on opium to make sure the British Resident’s kid doesn’t miss the shot on her first hunt? Check. Shoot a bear while dressed in a sari? Check. Quit Cambridge because the lame professors won’t let me drive up in my 8,000cc Italian sports car? Check. If it hadn’t been for the supporting photographs, I’d have thought this was yet one more fanciful Bollywood production starring Shammi Kapoor and Sadhana as Kunwar This and Raajkumari That.

Speaking of which, it would have been good had Ali included a paragraph or two explaining the different titles. There are Nawabs and Rajas, Kunwars and Princes and it all gets a bit confusing. Not to mention repeated use of long-winded titles that force one to go back to check who exactly one is reading about. Some spelling errors are a bit jarring and lead to disturbing imagery — the Nizam Sir Osman Ali Khan, for example, chewing on “beetle” leaves is not a pretty sight to imagine. There are also minor grammatical errors; for a book which has so obviously been a labour of love, the team would have done well with more thorough editing. Most odd, however, are the mistranslations. Why is kaleji written as goat heart when it is actually liver, and why — to the mystification of many who encountered it — are tomatoes called laal baigan [red aubergine]?

Such quibbles aside, there is no doubt Dining with the Nawabs is a lovely book. It is hugely entertaining with lots of information on culture and history, glorious to look at, and the accompanying Kitchen Copy of recipes is a nice touch. This way, while the main book can be safely displayed on a coffee table away from grubby spice-stained hands, the kitchen copy can sit by the stove and do all the hard work.

The reviewer is a member of staff

CHAAR (RASAM OR HOT TOMATO-BASED DRINK)

Tamarind 50 grams, soaked in one litre of water for
20 minutes
Tomatoes 2 medium sized
Black peppercorns 2 teaspoons
Cumin seeds 1 ½ teaspoons
Garlic cloves 10
Curry leaves 30
Vegetable oil 1 tablespoon
Mustard seeds 1 teaspoon
Turmeric powder 1 teaspoon
Green coriander leaves ¼ cup chopped
Salt to taste

METHOD

Squeeze the tamarind once it turns soft in the water and extract the juice, then strain. Crush one tomato into the tamarind water and set aside.

Coarsely grind the black peppercorns, cumin seeds and garlic together. Add the remaining tomato and 20 curry leaves; grind coarsely again into a paste.

Heat the oil in a wok (kadhai); add the mustard seeds and remaining curry leaves. Saute for two minutes on high heat. Add the ground paste, turmeric powder and tamarind water; cook on high heat for about 10 minutes.

Stir in the green coriander leaves; remove the wok from the heat and season to taste.

Serve hot in a cup or bowl.

Recipe from the book

Dining With The Nawabs
By Meera Ali, Priya Kapoor and
Karam Puri
Roli Books, India
ISBN: 978-9351941880
274pp./68pp.

Published in Dawn, Books & Authors, November 19th, 2017