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Journalism of Courage
About a month ago, a photographer friend invited me to a 30-person sit-down lunch at an upscale Mumbai restaurant where the celebrated owner-chef in collaboration with a dum pukht master would conjure up biryanis from six regions across India. “No coming late, no bringing friends, and strictly no asking for vegetarian meals,” commanded the witty, pithy no-nonsense host.
This, as they say, was an offer impossible to refuse and I arrived at the Mumbai racecourse on a wintry Sunday afternoon to tuck into what promised to be a memorable feast. The eatery has a sprawling courtyard where eight tables had been tastefully laid and guests mingled and sipped beer before lunch was served.
Our gregarious host, besides being an eminent photographer also runs a large talent management agency so it’s little wonder that his elite friends’ circle includes members from the world of film, fashion, politics, industry and sports. The recently retired master blaster was present as were three stalwarts of the Indian cricket team. Bollywood stars and starlets hobnobbed with scions of two political dynasties as captains of industry chatted with lissom models with distractingly long legs.
The owner-chef invited everyone to take a seat at their designated tables, a request that was promptly ignored as guests chose to sit with friends rather than adhere to the formal seating plan. The maestro announced that his team and he had sought to recreate biryanis from six principalities across India that included Kashmir, Kolkata, Lucknow, Hyderabad, and Chennai.
Each biryani was fluffy, fragrant, and flavourful and perfectly paired with a delicate raita. The chef exhorted guests to save space for the next course but I saw many invitees asking for seconds, unable to contain their delight at devouring such exquisite fare.
An air of bonhomie pervaded the al fresco eatery as guests gushed and then groaned as to just how much of a good thing could they possibly partake. Between each course, people took cigarette and loo breaks and some even announced that they were taking a round of the racecourse before tackling the next biryani.
In one such break, I joked with a Bollywood actor-director that we were the only two Muslims present and postulated that good food has no religion and, in fact, fine cuisine helps create bonds between diverse cultures. Several guests that afternoon, bridging political and religious divides, vociferously agreed that the half-dozen biryanis we had savoured were an integral part of the great melting pot that we term ‘Indian cuisine’.
A couple of weeks after that epic lunch, I read with great dismay that some opportunists had sought to communalise the biryani. All I will say is that a pinch of saffron is an essential ingredient in this exquisite preparation. We needn’t saffronise it further.
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