A mouthful of flavours and secret masala mixes, down to the mathematical balancing of palate, made for a wholesome Parsi food promotion at Machan. Team Viva came back with tummies full
Though you would find all kinds of speciality food in our very global city, the Delhi palate is somewhat conservative in reality, rarely given to experimenting with other cuisines. World cuisine (as the recent popularity of Japanese food shows) is generally accepted because an awareness and experience of it adds to the gourmet pride quotient. But when it comes to Indian food, seldom does a Delhiite break the staple preferences and look for anywhere within India. The Taj Mansingh, with its occasional food fests, has still attempted to push the envelope. This is one of the reasons why Kashmiri brunches have now become quite the wanted fare at Machan. Emboldened, executive sous chef Ashish Ugal is holding a week-long Parsi food promotion, hoping to include some elements of it in a la carte.
Parsi food, with a distinct flavour, texture and unique spice combinations, would easily sit on a Delhi palate used to all things Mughlai. The Parsis use a lot of dry fruits, rose water, saffron, pomegranates and dates to lend that extra kick. Rice is the basic food which is mostly accompanied with lentils, ras and curries. The ras is a liquefied gravy while curries are thick with a generous dollop of coconut and coconut milk. Chef Ashish fills us in on the history of unique flavours.
It seems Zoroastrian refugees dropped anchor on the Gujarat coastline in the 10th century and quickly learnt the virtues of accommodating local culture, from food to their lifestyle. Voracious meat-eaters, they acquired the art of eating cereals and lentils, tweaking their preparation to suit their taste. They readily adopted the sweetness that Gujarati dishes are known for. As some of them shifted to Bombay, they adopted certain Maharashtrian and Goan flavours like coconut and kokum. As owners of merchant ships, they ferried the spices of the south, which they happily ladled out as well. Yet for all its absorptive nature, Parsi food is never me-too, having a powerful grammar of blend.
We began with dhansaak, which is an adaptation of Gujarati food and eaten with rice cooked in caramelised water. The Irani broth of lentil and meat over time included local vegetables, spices, cumin seeds, ginger, garlic with either gourd or pumpkin. The chef’s vegetarian version was a rich, dense stew, simmered over a long time and thickened with pumpkin. We sensed a complex blend of flavours that complemented each other perfectly without one spice dominating the other. “Thedhansaak masala is a closely-guarded secret in most Parsi homes. The medley of vegetables, spices and flavours is carefully measured and proportioned. Which is why I have sourced the masala from authentic Parsi establishments in Mumbai and not risked concocting anything here. For the Parsi promotion I had planned a month ahead and made sure that my stocks were in at least ten days before,” the chef had us know.
Having whetted our appetite so, we moved on to the prawn patio cooked with spices like cumin, coriander, garam masala, herbs, jaggery and tamarind. Hot, sweet and sour, it came close to the Bengali Malay curry though not as voluminous and heavy and not as sweet. Sensing similarity of taste, the chef presented Marghi na Farcha, a large piece of chicken that was battered, crumbed and fried. Many would call it a Parsi version of KFC chicken but it was yummier, again with coded spice medleys. The Jardaloo Salli Margi or chicken cooked in an onion and tomato gravy seemed to be bordering on the familiar but was ultimately lifted by apricots and topped with crispy potato strips.
But the best was yet to come. First came the Parsi mutton pulao, a fragrant and slightly tangy preparation with succulent meat and browned onions strewn over the top to add another layer of flavour. It seemingly sits on your stomach rather lightly at the table moment but give it a couple of hours and you know you do not want to get back to work. The prized item was the kid goat or Kid gosht, the wholehead garlic, cardamom, cinnamon, the cashew paste and coconut milk working up a creamy, molten consistency through a night of slow cooking and simmer. We just didn’t seem to have enough of the meat which exploded with flavours down to the last fibre.
It was time for dessert which we had decided to skip. But the chef insisted that one couldn’t do without the lagan nu custard. This one comes baked in bite size squares, the condensed milk, cardamom and nutmeg making for a delightfully luscious sweetmeat without too much guilt. The roasted vermicelli was again familiar sevai territory except the raisins, cashews and almonds gave it a crunch while its mild sweetness, in our minds, made it an anytime draw to spoon up. All in all, a delightfully rounded fare. Though the promotion continues till the weekend, you can order it off the menu later. Provided you show up in numbers.