It was entirely by chance that I had a taste of the Iranian custard, muhallebi, flavoured with the essence of roses, before opening the compendium of recipes devoted to the kitchens of Shah Jahan. It was served in tall crystal glasses, chilled to a creamy lusciousness and puddled with drops of saffron. The emperor would have approved of the culinary zest of Nasrin Karimi, the chef-owner who runs Café Shiraz on the outskirts of Chennai, on the busy ECR highway. For what she does best is to create a robust blending of two somewhat different culinary traditions into one fragrant repertoire.
As Salma Husain tells us in the introduction of her book, The Mughal Feast — a collection of recipes she transliterated from the original Persian manuscript, Nuskha-e-Shahjahani — few spices were used in Mughal cooking. Cartloads of almonds, pistachios, walnuts, apricots, plums and raisins and saffron were imported along new roads, that were constructed to facilitate trade. The sweet and salty tastes relished by the Mughals are quite apparent in the selection of recipes. The extensive use of nuts, gold and silver leaves, saffron and aromatics made food exotic and flavourful. Interestingly, she tells us that a copy of the book is available in the Government Oriental Manuscript Library in Chennai.
Far from usual
In a quaint departure from what cookbooks usually provide for the aspiring home-chef, or even immigrant entrepreneur chef hoping to open a Shah Jahan takeaway in Austin, Texas, there are no actual photographs of the dishes. So, should you be inclined to try out a recipe named ‘ shikambeh’, that calls for stuffing a goat’s stomach with all manner of goodies, you’ll have to rely on your imagination. What does an ‘ imli pulao Shah Jahani ’ look like? Is it similar to our more plebeian-sounding tamarind rice? I can’t tell you.
Speaking entirely for myself, I have to admit that I enjoy looking at various delectable images of food. It’s called food porn in some quarters. Look at the quivering portrait of “pomegranate jelly topped with pink rose petals” in a recipe by Ariana Bundy, and your visual imagination will be stimulated. With apologies for indulging in nostalgia, let me confess that such visions transport me to the magical years that our family lived in a wooded enclave called Shemiran, on the outskirts of Tehran in the days of the Shah.
During spring, when the melted snows from the Elburz mountains became streams flowing through the valleys, kebab makers would place wooden platforms on the rocks in the icy waters. The tables were spread with carpets. The families would step on to the platforms via the rocks. We would wait for the kebabs sizzling on coals along the banks as we were served with platters of watermelon, cucumbers, feta cheese, fresh naans . We cooled our sherbets by dipping them in the icy waters swirling below us. Need I add, dear reader, that on some nights, the nightingales still sang in the woods around Tehran.
Signs of the times
Husain’s book is an example of nostalgia cuisine. It is to suggest that sense of enchantment that the author and her editors have included the lush images that depict the emperor and his entourage entertaining themselves, both in court and outside. The colour plates in miniature style show Shah Jahan surrounded by a multitude of his courtiers in the most varied of costumes, feasting on a balcony in a garden. Or of the emperor riding his horse (as on the cover); or the one of him standing on a mound that represents the globe — the latter has very Anglicised angels sitting in the clouds, battering him with various emblems of honour, not to mention a lion and a sheep pretending to be friends beneath his feet. It was, as Husain tells us, the silver twilight of the Mughal empire. It was a world of glittering delights, and pandering to the palate was just one aspect of the magnificence.
Obviously, we can’t leave out a mention at least about the recipes. The book is divided into seven sections: Naan , Aash , Qaliya and Do - piyazah , Bharta , ZeerBiryan and Pulao , Kabab , and Shiriniha (desserts). There are some excellent variations on masala omelettes and sweet omelettes, a recipe for Scotch eggs called qaliya kunda , as also a pulao with tiny samosas on the top. The nimona pulao sounds rather like our humble khichdi . It’s probably just as well that the emperor got used to simpler stuff. Sadly, as we are also reminded, when he was imprisoned by his son, Aurangzeb, he was only allowed dishes made from one item — chickpeas. Obviously healthy, he survived for eight years.
Maybe vegans will find something attractive here after all.
Images excerpted from The Mughal Feast: Recipes from the Kitchen of Emperor Shah Jahan by Salma Yusuf Husain (Roli Books). Priced at ₹1,495.
