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Murgh tikka masala, as the whole world knows by now, has
conquered the palate of the Brits and has displaced traditional fish ’n’ chips as the national dish in the UK. Who would have thought that the native barbecue item will one day donning of sauce-like gravy drape in its faux qorma avatar make such a glorious passage to England taking in its stride all from the plebian pubs frequented by macho football fanatics to fine dining restaurants claiming to serve fusion ethnic chic to the gourmet. Nearer home too the tikka has evolved constantly. About half a century back the word meant botis roasted in the tandoor after
marinating in a simple spice mix or pan grilled on tawa. The Punjab school popularised the clay oven version soon vanquishing the Delhi species done on the griddle. In Lucknow, the boneless cubes are culled much smaller- daintily pierced through not on huge iron skewers but on wooden spikes and are lovingly turned on open charcoal grill- sigris. These too are a threatened species.
So completely has the tandoori Malai Tikka dominated the imagination of diners that its siblings are all but forgotten.
(Ironically, the murgh malai tikka in many upmarket eateries quite westernised after a vigorous message with grated processed cheese- losing its original oriental charm). The plain jane tikka smeared all over with a horrible yellow-red colour is perhaps deservedly given the cold shoulder (Friend Kalra, the one and only Jiggs, was so worked up about the poisonous chemical laden masala tikka that he insisted on ‘shampooing’ his order with
yogurt before taking a single bite). But frankly it is beyond our ken why worthies like the Hariyali Tikka continue to be neglected. For one, the attractive emereld hue is imparted by natural ingredients and you don’t have to worry yourself sick about suspect food-grade pigments. Then, the green tint has myriad flavourful
possibilities-coriander, green chilies mint, spinach-fenugek blend or all of these playing a verdant sensual symphony. There are some ‘purists’ who feel that methi should be reserved for the macchi tikka-they know not what they are missing out on. Ironically, the same foodies have no problems tucking in methi murgh in curry form. The beauty of hariyali recipes is that they can, and to our mind should, be adjusted to suit the changing seasons. Cool refreshing mint and
coriander in summers and methi and saag in the colder climes. Green chilies
remain constant. If you don’t have the stomach for pungence you could easily discard the seeds and retain the flavour. |
