|
Cooked in its own juice in a sealed pot, bund gosht needs skilful handling, says Pushpesh Pant MANY years ago, during a trip to Lucknow, that wonderful city of epicurean nawabs, we were fortunate to taste an unusually named delicacy bund gosht in a street-side eatery that stunned us with its simple elegance. The dish looked like any other mutton gravy, did not have the satin smooth aromatic sauce-like gravy of a qorma, nor the give away khada masala but the subtle taste lingered on the palate for hours. The temptation was strong not only to lick the fingers, but also to smell them. The problem was that the cussed owner of the shop was extremely reluctant to talk about it — he suspected us of ignoble intentions like purloining his trade secrets and setting up a shop. Perhaps we made the mistake by referring to the hint of saunf and the subtle play of haldi imparting it a distinct identity while praising the dish.
Forget discussing the recipe, the old man would not even serve us the repeat orders. A curt, "Khatam ho gaya... kaam ka waqt hai miyan" left no scope for further conversation. His loyal, local patrons, we were told, were enough to keep him busy and happy. We were left in no doubt that nosey outsiders like us deserved to be rudely brushed off. Bund gosht bewitched us and we could not get it out of our system for a long time. Mystery started with the name — why bund (closed)? A self-proclaimed foodie insisted that the name came from cabbage that was used secretly to thicken the gravy. Another gourmand who gorged almost daily on the bund gosht insisted that it was cooked covered – that was all. Tantalising questions persisted. Does any dahi enter the picture? Is it really fennel that makes it redolent? Imagine our delight when during a recent visit we were offered the dish and the recipe on a platter — most unexpectedly. Raju Bhai aka Abid Miyan, the owner of the Bismillah Hotel in Aminabad, treated us to a stunning bund gosht at a ‘working lunch’ during a photo shoot in his restaurant. He candidly admitted that it was the poor man’s dum pukht. The meat is cooked in its own juices in sealed pots — not just covered — without water. Yes, dahi is used (and I told you so) the alluring aroma is contributed by good old fennel. The art to be mastered is handling haldi. A slight error of judgment can ruin both the colour and taste. The quality of turmeric is crucially important and the quantity used must be adjusted accordingly. Try this beauty out it is worth this little trouble. |