When the Maulvi announced the arrival of Eid, I jumped up and down in glee. Some of the best Biryani’s are made during Eid time. It’s usually the case of the aunties competing with each other to make the best Biryani that year. As for me? I prefer to be the judge on that day; it’s one of the most rewarding and satisfying experiences. Anyway, followed by the traditional kofta, roti and chai breakfast,I wolfed down a couple of those delicious Gulab Jamoons my mom sent across. The breakfast is usually ‘light’; we believe in keeping some room for the lunch!

 

Armed with a pack of Eno and some Moov I gingerly stepped outside. Why the ‘Moov’? Ahem… ‘Eid Mubarak!’ my neighbor aunty yelled from across the balcony. This was eventually followed by her hugging me thrice, followed by her daughters-in-law, her grandchildren, and her mother…phew! Hence the ‘Moov’.  A visit to some friends… more Sheer Khurma, Jamoon and the ritualistic hugging… and then? More ‘Moov’. One has to do so much for some Biryani! But I strongly believe that it’s totally worth it.

 

In all my life, I have had the best Biryani only twice. Yes, twice and at two places that couldn’t be more different from each other. For the first one, I paid Rs.45. Unbelievable isn’t it? Try as much, I cannot recollect the name of that little, non-descript place in Chikmaglur. I still remember the fine, non-sticky, perfectly spiced rice, with large chunky pieces of chicken. How I relished it. The waiter at the restaurant was amazed at how quickly I has polished it off, and that I actually managed to leave the plate clean enough to be reused (I sure hope they didn’t do that!). The only other place that cushioned the impact of the bill that followed was Samarkhand. A little heavy on the pocket yes…but for those who have tried the Dum Gosht ki Biryani they swear by it. Even before the Biryani was served, the wafting aroma announced its arrival. As the impeccably dressed waiter sliced open the flour covering, I rubbed by hands in anticipation. Long, aromatic grains of Basmati rice, loaded with rich, lean and marinated pieces of mutton. Now I am not a big fan of mutton, but those heavenly, melt-in-the-mouth pieces totally numbed by senses. If I was to write my will that day, I would have happily given everything away. Not an ounce of fat, not an annoying little bone. It was chunky, delicious mutton and rice all the way.

 

That’s reminiscing enough. Let’s get back to the Eid Biryani shall we? I am yet to find the third best Biryani ever, and I hoped this was it. The Biryani was served, along with that was the usual fare of Jamoons, Sheer Khurma, Salad and other sweets that were sure to harden the arteries. The rice and the mutton ratio looked good. ‘Let’s taste’, I thought, heaping some on to my plate. ‘Hmmmm… nice… good masala, decent mutton pieces as well’. After three generous helpings, a couple of Jamoons and other desserts later, I decided that nice as it was, it can be the fifth or fourth best Biryani I have ever had…maybe, not the third. I did not dare say this aloud though, especially not after three generous helpings of everything I could lay my eyes on. This would have ensured a boot meeting my backside, without doubt. All said and done, greed, with a good reason, is a sin in the eyes of every religion. The limitless gorging finally caught up with me that evening. I reached for the Eno and Rantac, just praying for my stomach to stop its summersaults! I promised myself, I would never ever be critical of the Biryanis I eat here on…this was my punishment. And dinner that evening? The humble curd and rice. Speaking of which, I would rate this curd rice a three out of…Ouch Ouch… Okay okay.. no more rating my food. Groan!