Some of the travel tales of Moroccan traveller Ibn Battuta, who visited Delhi in the 14th century, find relevance even today. For instance, the rose water sherbet served before meals during that time is today known as the ‘Mohabbat ka Sharbat’, a rose syrup cold watermelon milk, on the streets of old Delhi. Pounded millets made into porridge with buffalo milk, consumed by Indians then, are being popularised today as the future of food, at a time when the nation celebrates the ‘International Year of Millets’.
As they say, our past is the window to the future. Delhi has rightly been known to imbibe a diversity of cultural influences from the past to find its very own cuisine: the Dehlnavi. The word ‘Dehlnavi’ or ‘Dehlvi’, which means one from Delhi, is a melting pot of the rich culinary fares across the world. The cuisine comes from the fascinating culinary history of one of the important political centres of India and also the capital of several empires.
Each culture has contributed and left an indelible impression in shaping the Dehlnavi cuisine. From Emperor Akbar getting hundreds of cooks from Persia to the khichdi going through changes in his royal kitchen, a cluster of migrations including Marwari traders in the 19th and 20th centuries, or the post-1947 refugee Punjabi resettlement bringing butter chicken and kunni dal (dal cooked in a big earthen pot called a kunni), the vibrant food trail of Shahjahanabad, now called Purani Dilli, has a confluence of flavours and ingredients from the Kayastha, Baniya, Muslim and Jain communities living in the ‘walled city’.
“There were many recorded evidences and memoirs of poet Hazrat Amir Khusrau and Ibn Battuta about Dilli and its cuisine from homes, but the Mughals bought some refinement in their spread with its Persian nuances tempered with Indian flavours,” shared the late author and storyteller, Sadia Dehlvi, when she hosted the ‘Delhi Tablespread’ of the city’s authentic cuisines at Sheraton New Delhi, Saket, in 2017. Dehlvi’s family was the earliest settlers of Delhi, and she spent considerable time in old Delhi and at her family’s ancestral home, Shama Kothi, in central Delhi.
Red chillies find a purposeful mention in Dehlnavi cuisine. It is believed that the Portuguese brought red chillies to India, who began its cultivation in Goa in the 16th century. Two hundred years later, red chillies made their way to Delhi. During the 18th century, many people had fallen sick due to the polluted canal and the food prepared with that water. The hakims, who lived in the old city, advised using chillies in preparing chaats: paani ke bataashe, papri, chaat pakodi, qalmi badey, samosa and kachori, which were made with all the spices and chillies that would boost digestion and immunity without compromising on taste, wrote Dehlvi in her book Jasmine & Jinns—Memories and Recipes of my Delhi, a treatise on Indian cuisine.
Dehlnavi cuisine has been in a constant state of flux and is as diverse as what we see in many households today. But filmmaker, writer, and heritage buff Sohail Hashmi, who organises heritage walks in Delhi, says that there was no mention of garlic and turmeric in the Mughal cuisine.
“Food was cooked in slow flame, using firewood in brass vessels. Luckily, slow food cooking is making a comeback now. There was no paneer and mushroom until 1947 and these came with the arrival of Punjabis, Multanis and Sindhis. Native Aseel (Indian breed of game chicken) was cooked as chicken and not the white leg horn or the table bird which was more of a delicacy in Europe and England and became popular in Delhi post independence. Portuguese never ate chillies but decorated it as a plant because of its colourful fruit,” says Hashmi.
But Delhi gave garam masala to the world, says Manisha Bhasin, corporate executive chef, ITC Hotels, who has been at the helm of researching the concept of community cuisine, especially Dehlnavi, now for a decade, before bringing the dishes on to the plates of food connoisseurs.
“Spices such as cardamoms, cloves, cinnamon and peppercorns have garam taseer (a warming effect) and here people are particular about taseer, the effect of food on the body. In Dehlnavi cuisine, you will find a ubiquitous use of spices. It’s a no-fuss cuisine, more rustic, robust in flavour. While researching I gathered interest in local ingredients and the value they add to the cuisine, and that’s how my journey to explore our home cuisines and production began,” shares Bhasin, who introduced Dehlnavi cuisine under an umbrella concept first in 2005 in a food festival in New Delhi, and is back with a multi-city festival in ITC Hotels starting from May till September this year.
“We have brought the communities under a larger umbrella and not just in spurts. All the migrated communities who came and made Delhi their home have a culinary heritage and the city is a mix of all those royal recipes from the shahi kitchens, and the street food or the family recipes. All these are clubbed together to preserve the Dehlnavi which offers the Muslim, Kayastha, Vaish, Baniya and Punjabi food,” says Bhasin.
Over 200 dishes in this year’s festival offer a host of Dehlnavi interpretations. There is UP-style mirchi nimona pulao (basmati rice preparation enriched with whole gentle green chillies stuffed with a peas paste); meha bharwan (stuffed Indian round gourd cooked in light tomato and asafoetida gravy), inspired from Kayasthas’ gol kata tinda; dal dehlnavi (a combination of moth and split yellow lentils cooked on low heat garnished with pickled ginger julienne, green chilli and roasted cumin, served with crisp biscotti roti); bhe ke kebab (small cakes of lotus stem and potatoes flavoured with garam masala and pan-grilled to perfection); butter chicken and nehari (prime cuts of lamb cooked in brown onion and saffron gravy), and in desserts, baraf ki handi (reduced milk scented with crushed almonds and cardamom, served with frozen motiya zarda), khurchan (scrapings of milk made by heating milk in shallow pan and scraped off with sugar and rose water).
So, is Dehlnavi more about survival rather than sophistication? It’s a combination of both, says Bhasin. There is much refinement in the cuisine and its rediscovery has only upped the presentation. For a silbatte ka shammi (hand pounded meat kebab pan seared on a griddle, flavoured with Indian spices) Bhasin uses raan ka keema (leg of goat/lamb) to make it finer and mild.
However, Dilli’s historical cuisine has been reduced to kebabs, rogan josh or biryani unfortunately and Hashmi feels there is a need to revive dishes that have fallen off the map. “Do you think the Mughals ate korma every day? No. Today, kormas, stews find equal importance in the homes of Dilliwallahs and communities of the old city as gravies or seasonal salans cooked with vegetables (tinda, karela, lauki, kaddu, torai), and these are very much part of a traditional, non-vegetarian fare,” says Hashmi.
Talking about how there will always be a place for traditions, Bhasin feels the new generation is widely accepting the traditional past, is more aware and wants to stick to their roots. “Such cuisines offer a vintage trend with a twist. These recipes are time-tested and have survived over 100 years. People are rediscovering their roots and the younger generation is at the forefront,” she says.
