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From tandoori to murgh nayaab, chicken can be adapted to tickle as many taste buds, writes Pushpesh Pant
Invoking an imperial name at times it seems has been inspired by the infusion of dried fruits and pasted nuts — cashews and almonds and needlessly drenching with cream. Even the tandoori comes out donning different garbs — from blushing pink to shamelessly screaming scarlet — the taste may vary from sublime to revolting.
At times like this, one does sorely miss the murgh kali mirch, butter chicken or murgh hariyali or methi murgh. At least the good old chicken curry spared you the agonising wait. So disappointed was a friend with a chicken jalfarezi that he suggested to the owner of the eatery that it should be renamed chicken jalfarebi. Some dishes are identified by names of places like chicken Afghani and the chettinad (though this is no guarantee that the ancestry claimed is genuine), others are associated with an epicurean patron who has passed away long ago. Our worthy friend Mohammad Farouk insists that chicken Faizabadi has nothing to do with the place but was a chooza (a spring chicken or squab not a broiler body builder that is often dished out) that was chosen to amuse and provide succulent nutrition for the legendary singer of ghazals, Begum Akhtar. At least with the dum ka murgh Hyderabdi you know not only the likely spicing but also the cooking technique employed and the suffix musallam is a reasonable assurance that the bird will reach the table intact. The dak bunaglow Roast is a culinary species almost on the verge of extinction, but if you sight and order it, please stand warned that it is more suited to phoren than native palates making only a grudging admission to the rulers presence in India by incorporating a hint of spices to a rather bland grill. And chicken pakora leaves nothing to imagination. The most exotically named chicken that we have come across is murgh shikasta Haripasand, a delicacy created by an Awadhi chef to delight the palate of the late Maharaja of Kashmir. The shikasta part referred to the split breasts (the word literally translates as defeated, dejected, broken and despairing). In this kitchen, craftsman’s breast surely beat a poet’s heart. We began with the thought of sharing with our readers one of our favourite recipes for winter months — a variation on the methi theme but could not resist the temptation of calling it murgh nayaab. |
There
are as many names for the chicken dishes served in this land as
perhaps there are cooks. One has come across chicken Jehangiri,
chicken mumtaz or chicken Anarkali in the most unlikely
places and each time in an almost unrecognisable incarnation.
It
is said what is in a name, but in this case one will be grateful if the
menu title indicated unambiguously what to expect — gravy or dry dish,
one made with or without tomatoes, mildly or sharply spiced.