I once had an interesting book called Forbidden Fruits and Forgotten Vegetables. I am pretty sure if I devote enough time I can write a book on Forbidden Foods! Take the case of Nau Lakha, a dish that was very popular in the 50’s as my mom tells me. It was forbidden, but people still cooked it. I remember stories that my mom told me about the legendary tempers my dad displayed whenever he learnt Nau Lakha had been prepared.

There was a time when my mom with two of my aunts were having Nau Lakha as a late breakfast when my dad walked into the house unannounced. Before he could come into the dining room that was barely 15 meters from the main door, the three plates had been cleaned and the contents had been put in the serving bowl which was quickly slid under the bed that used to lie at the end of the dining room.  The overpowering smell however, overrode the smell of anesthesia (he had just come out of the surgery) and ensured he was able to trace the offending dish and then, my mom says, all hell broke loose!

Nau Lakha is a dish made from the previous days leftovers – not just yesterday but the last nine days. At that time most homes did not have a refrigerator so everything was kept in the open, in an airy place and most of it would ferment in the warm heat. Nau Lakha comprised small servings of leftover meat, assorted vegetables, lentils etc. These would then be put in a vessel with heated oil tempered with Garam masala, ginger and dried red chilies. To enhance the sour taste, a few tablespoons of yogurt would be added. According to my mother it had a unique taste and I guess it was a bit heady too what with the fermentation!

Try this at your own peril. This is a sure shot to Gastroenteritus!

A forgotten dish that I still would not mind trying is Shakshuka. It certainly is a unique name and sounds Persian to me. I still remember having Shakshuka for breakfast with my grandmothers (my grandfather married twice), with my younger grandmother sitting on her Irani carpet. The carpet still exists with one of my maternal uncles (don’t know which one though). This one was reddish with beautiful depictions of Egyptian lotus, bordered with gold threads. My earliest memories include my younger grandmother sitting on a Chowki on which the carpet was placed. She would do almost everything on it including saying her prayers!

Shakshuka was a celebration and a togetherness dish made from minced meat and tomatoes with a generous sprinkling of raw garam masala in a tomato gravy. First the dinner would be kebab with different kinds of roti. Roghini, sheermal, roomali washed down with a spicy yoghurt duly flavored with red chili and roasted cumin powder. Once everyone had their fill it was time for the Shakshuka!   This was cooked on a flat tray (Seni) made of copper which was turned up at the edges. Every month or so when the silver color faded and the copper became visible, the Kalai Wala would come and silverplate it again. The Shakshuka was cooked on dying embers of coal usually on the most bitter winter nights in the inner courtyard so that the womenfolk could also participate in this ritual. The preparation would start with Salim, our Khansaama (cook) who would come in wearing a long grey tunic much like what the Kashmiris wear. Once the ingredients were put together and cooked, (water was not used, and the tomato would shed enough water for the meat to cook in), the Khansama would take the pieces of charcoal fire and lay it down in a circle on the ground. Four half pieces of brick were then put one at each radial and the Seni was put on it. This would slowly cook the meat. At about midnight, the seni would be put away. The next morning before day break the Khansama would again light the fire and put the dish back. He would then add pure ghee and stir the mince well for about 30 minutes. In the meantime everyone would lazily come back warming their hands with the coal fire. The finale was when raw eggs were broken on top of the dish. Because the ghee would be piping hot you could almost hear the hiss as the egg fell on top of the tomato infused mince. The Khansama with a long handled spoon would scoop out some ghee and put it on the eggs. The end result would be a polka dotted tomato red infused mince which would look like a huge pizza. Each serving would have at least one egg. It would be spicy, hot, and delicious! The process was quite long, which is why I guess it has been forgotten. But I do wish someone would do it again. The old house with its courtyard was raided to build three multi storied buildings and while some of my uncles live there, most have moved and taken away the magic with them.

Both my gradmothers died – the younger one in 1979, but I still remember her sitting on the Irani carpert with her silver Paandaan (an engraved silver box that contined her betel leaves) and her diamond nose stud twinkling in the candlelight.

Naheed