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A regular, busy evening at
Shabrati Nahari.
(Photo: IANS) |
New Delhi:
It was originally a morning meal for the poor. Rich in texture and
weighty on the stomach, the meaty Mughal era broth called nahari
used to suppress fresh bouts of hunger till twilight.
Some say it was the winter preserve of a determined few who did
the bidding of their taste buds even on bitterly cold mornings. It
was also considered a nourishing preparation that magically rid
people of flu.
But the new-age nahari fan doesn't eat it to kill hunger, nor does
he savour it only in winter. He may also be blissfully oblivious
to its medicinal properties. Thanks to economics and what foodies
call its unforgettable taste, the dish made of buffalo bone marrow
has turned into a fascinating all-weather delicacy.
At Gaffar Nahari Wala - a 90-year-old shop near Jama Masjid in old
Delhi - Abdul Gaffar, grey-haired and shrivelled, says nahari is a
12-month business now.
"Some two decades ago, we started selling nahari in evenings as
well. There were people who wanted to eat, but could not make it
in the mornings. We couldn't turn a blind eye to business. Now we
sell more in the evenings," Gaffar, over 80, told IANS.
At the counter, the cook sits next to a pot emitting
mouth-watering clouds of steam. Armed with a huge table spoon, he
pokes the tender meat, weighs 200 grams with his eyes and takes it
out on a steel plate, some meat chunks accompanying the broth.
The waiter-cum-deputy chef pours some insane quantity of butter
over it, showers ginger flakes and chopped green chilli, and hands
over the vivid presentation to Iqbal Khan, who's busy wiping his
first plate of the last trace of curry with chapatti.
A Mughlai delicacy eaten with tandoori roti, it takes eight hours
of slow flame and an array of spices to produce the thick,
smooth-textured nahari.
"You won't believe it, but people send nahari to their relatives
in the Middle East from India. They freeze it for one-two days.
The ghee in it freezes completely, so it does not get detected at
airports," Iqbal says smilingly, defying the geometry on his face
that gives him a permanent smirk.
A few lanes away, Naim is tearing into his nahari with the
ferocity of a man who won't see food again. Sitting with two
suitcases and a curious appetite, the Rajasthan resident dropped
in straight at Shabrati Nahari from the railway station - even
before checking in at a hotel.
"Most of our clients are from outside Delhi. People from Jaipur,
Ajmer, Agra, Haryana and Mumbai make it a point to eat nahari when
they come here for work," Mohammad Shuaib Illyas, owner of the
shop, told IANS.
The 29-year-old says it's one of the three oldest nahari shops in
the capital and was started by his late grandfather, Haji Shabraji.
There's an elaborate secret recipe, which he inherited along with
his last name.
Even the cook does not know some of the spices he puts in the
dish. All he knows is that it takes eight long hours for the meat
to tenderise. Some 20 kg is consumed in the morning and roughly 30
in the evening. A plate costs Rs.30, a quantity enough to satiate
one's hunger but not always the taste buds.
Legend has it that nahari came into being during the Mughal period
following a flu outbreak in Delhi.
"The hakims (traditional medical practitioners) recommended to
people to drink a mixture of hot water and pepper. That used to
taste bitter, so people started putting vegetables in it. Slowly,
they started experimenting with meat and it evolved into nahari,"
Shuaib says.
"Later, it became a dish of the labourers as it used to be very
heavy and would keep you filled till evening."
At his 67-year-old shop in Chitli Kabar, the four-odd benches are
always occupied but never does the place get crowded. People eat
and move, as if performing a ritual.
Men get it packed to enjoy it with their families, schoolchildren
sneak in discreetly, morning-walkers stop by guiltily-sometimes
sharing seats with random strangers and sometimes even plates.
In Delhi, there's no single undisputed nahari king. But each area
has its own favourite-typically a dilapidated shop with no board
for identification but a hundred eager fans to give directions.
Gastronomic delights tucked away in little-known streets, often
dingy looking places, mostly in old Delhi, selling food at
incredibly low prices.
There's Hari Noora in the Bara Hindu Rao area, Zafar ki Nahari in
Seelampur, Kallu Ustad in Old Delhi...each with its own cult, its
own enviable following.
(Mohita Nagpal
can be contacted at mohita.n@ians.in)
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