Lucknowi Mutton Korma

Lucknowi Mutton Korma: A Dish That Feels Like Royalty

There’s something about Lucknowi food that feels like poetry—graceful, layered, and deeply comforting. The first time I made Lucknowi Mutton Korma, I wasn’t just cooking a dish—I was stepping into a legacy. A legacy of Nawabi kitchens, slow-cooked flavors, and the kind of elegance that doesn’t shout, but lingers.

This korma isn’t fiery or bold—it’s gentle, aromatic, and rich in a way that feels regal. The mutton is simmered until tender, wrapped in a velvety gravy made from browned onions, yogurt, and a delicate blend of spices. I add a touch of cashew-almond paste for depth, and finish it with saffron and kewra water—because some dishes deserve that final flourish.

What I love most is how this dish invites patience. It asks you to slow down, to let the flavors build quietly. And when you finally lift the lid, the aroma alone tells you it was worth the wait.

In our home, this isn’t just a recipe—it’s a celebration. Of heritage, of craft, and of the joy that comes from cooking with intention.

The Royal Flavors of Lucknow

Lucknow is renowned for its delicious and lip-smacking food. The biryanis and curries perfected in the kitchens of the Nawabs are what elevate India’s non-vegetarian cuisine to something truly regal. These dishes aren’t just meals—they’re legacies, passed down through generations of khansamas (royal chefs) who mastered the art of slow cooking, delicate spicing, and luxurious presentation.

While the Nizams of Hyderabad and the Mughals of Delhi also left behind rich culinary traditions, Lucknow’s Awadhi cuisine stands apart for its subtlety and refinement. The Nawabs of Awadh developed a style that was less fiery than Mughlai food, yet deeply aromatic and layered. Think of melt-in-the-mouth Galouti Kebabs, saffron-laced Lucknowi Biryani, and creamy Mutton Korma—each dish a testament to patience, precision, and poetry on a plate.

The influence of Persian techniques, Mughal grandeur, and local ingenuity combined to create a cuisine that’s both opulent and soulful. From the use of kewra water and rose essence to the slow dum cooking method, every detail was crafted to please not just the palate, but the senses.

Lucknowi Mutton Korma: A Royal Affair

  • Origin: Rooted in the kitchens of Awadh, this korma was traditionally served during royal feasts and special occasions. It’s known for its subtle spice profile and luxurious texture.
  • Key Ingredients:
    • Mutton (bone-in)
    • Yogurt for the velvety base
    • Browned onions for depth
    • Cashew-milk powder-almond paste for richness
    • Fragrant spices: cardamom, cloves, cinnamon, mace
    • Kewra water and saffron for that signature aroma
  • Flavor Profile: Mild yet complex, with a gentle heat from Kashmiri red chilies and a nutty, creamy undertone. The spices are aromatic, not overpowering, allowing the mutton to shine.

Mutton Kofta Curry

A Dish My Father Loved

Mutton Koftas—minced meatballs simmered in a rich, spicy gravy—were one of the special dishes my mother made when I was growing up. I remember the aroma filling our home, the warmth of the kitchen, and my father savoring every bite with quiet joy.

For me, it was a dish I liked, but never craved. It wasn’t something I’d ask for on my birthday or during celebrations. But for my father, it was comfort food. If you asked him to name a favorite, I’m certain Kofta Curry would be near the top of his list.

Even though it wasn’t my personal favorite, it became special because of him. It’s funny how food does that—how a recipe becomes a memory, a connection, a tribute.

Koftas: A Journey Through Empires and Kitchens

Koftas—minced meatballs seasoned with spices—have traveled far and wide, leaving their mark on countless cuisines. Though their exact origin is hard to pin down, the word kofta comes from the Persian kufta, meaning “to pound” or “to grind”—a nod to the preparation of the meat2.

While early Arab cookbooks featured lamb koftas glazed with saffron and egg yolk, it was the Mughal Empire that brought this dish to the Indian subcontinent, transforming it into a rich, spiced curry. In India and Pakistan, koftas evolved into a variety of gravies—bland, spicy, creamy—each tailored to regional tastes and ingredients.

Today, koftas are beloved across the Middle East, Balkans, Central Asia, and North Africa. From Turkish köfte to Greek keftedes, Moroccan lamb koftas to Indian nargisi kofta, each version tells a story of cultural exchange and culinary creativity.

Whether grilled, baked, or simmered in gravy, koftas remain a dish of comfort and celebration. And in your kitchen, Haala, they carry the added weight of memory—your father’s joy, your mother’s touch, and your own evolving relationship with the dish.

🍖 Bangalore Kofte: A Recipe Rooted in Love and Reinvention

After we got married, Mr. Parveez introduced me to Bangalore Kofte—a dish made with minced mutton, seasoned with spices, gently steamed, and then fried to perfection. These koftas are often served on their own, or paired with a warm parantha or roti. In our family, they’re a cherished part of Eid-ul-Adha celebrations, loved by everyone at the table.

Learning to make them was more than just mastering a recipe—it was a moment of connection, a passing down of flavor and tradition. But as my culinary journey unfolded, and I began exploring new dishes and revisiting familiar ones, I found myself drawn to reinterpret the flavors I grew up with.

So I returned to the kofta, this time through the lens of Kofta Curry—infusing it with the spices, textures, and stories I’ve gathered along the way. It’s a dish that reflects not just where I come from, but how far I’ve come.

And now, I’m sharing it with you. Because every recipe carries a memory, and every bite is a step in the journey.

Preparing the Mutton Koftas

Start with minced mutton and grind it further to achieve a finer texture. This helps the meatballs hold together better and gives them a smoother finish.

To this, add a flavorful paste made by blending fried onions, ginger-garlic, fresh coriander leaves, and a slice of bread. A spoonful of roasted chickpea flour goes in as well—both the bread and the flour help absorb excess moisture, making the mixture easier to shape.

Mix in your spices and ensure everything is well combined. Cover the mixture and refrigerate for about 20 minutes. This resting time allows the flavors to meld and makes shaping the koftas much easier.

The koftas shouldn’t be too spicy, or else the spicy koftas served with the spicy gravy become hard to handle. This dish might look difficult, and you might find the steps a little tedious to follow if you are a beginner, but if you follow the steps correctly, you can make this dish easily.

Cook’s Note

When preparing koftas, balance is key. If the meatballs are too spicy and the gravy is equally bold, the dish can become overwhelming. A gentle hand with the spices allows the flavors to complement each other rather than compete.

This recipe may look a bit intricate at first glance, especially if you’re new to cooking. The steps might seem tedious—but trust the process. If you follow each stage with care, you’ll find that it’s absolutely achievable. The result is a dish that’s rich, comforting, and deeply satisfying.

Good food isn’t about shortcuts—it’s about patience, intention, and love. And this dish is worth every bit of it.

Chicken Kaju Pepper

The Art of Chicken Curry

Chicken curries thrive on variety. As a staple on so many tables, chicken invites innovation—it’s a canvas that welcomes bold spices, gentle herbs, and unexpected twists. Every dish benefits from a fresh perspective, but chicken especially calls for creativity to keep our taste buds curious and delighted.

Because it’s such a frequent favorite—for both cooking and serving—I’m often asked to create new flavor profiles. And I absolutely love the challenge. Experimenting in the kitchen is one of my greatest joys. But I believe experimentation should be done with care—just enough that if something veers off track, it can still be salvaged and turned into something delicious.

That’s the beauty of cooking: it’s forgiving, flexible, and full of surprises. And with chicken curry, the possibilities are endless.

A little pepper wisdom from today’s kitchen adventure 🌶️ This dish was a flavorful experiment—and a successful one at that. Black pepper can be bold, but even a pinch too much can tip the balance. So I reached for white pepper instead: subtle, smooth, and just the right kind of heat. The result? A dish that’s warm, complex, and absolutely delicious.

Why Cashews?

Creamy, nutty, and quietly powerful. Cashews are my secret to richness without heaviness—a subtle sweetness that dances beautifully with the warmth of pepper. While coconut milk and cream have their place, cashews bring something deeper, smoother, and more balanced to the table.

Maa’s Tikka Boti

As the name suggests, this recipe comes from my Mother.

🥘 Maa’s Tikka Boti: A Taste of Home and Bombay’s Irani Cafés

At my mom’s place, it’s simply called Tikka Boti. But for me, it’s Maa’s Tikka Boti—a dish that carries the warmth of her kitchen and the flavors of a memory she brought back from Bombay. Years ago, she visited an Iranian café tucked into the bustling streets of Mumbai. That experience stayed with her, and somehow, it found its way into our family’s food.

This recipe is a tribute to that moment. It’s bold, smoky, and deeply satisfying—perfect for non-vegetarians who love their meat tender and their spices unapologetic. And while kheema paav from those cafés holds a special place in my heart, it’s this tikka boti that feels like home.

A Roll, A Memory: Maa’s Chicken Creation

It started with a bite in Bombay—my mom, on vacation, tried a chicken roll at an Iranian café. She couldn’t ask for the recipe, but she carried the flavor home in her memory. What followed was years of trial, intuition, and love. Her version became a dish I adored, but it was never made casually. It was reserved for get-togethers, for moments when her effort would be acknowledged, when the kitchen’s heat—literal and emotional—felt worth it.

Growing up in Rajasthan, cooking wasn’t just about ingredients. It was about navigating 45°C summers in kitchens without air conditioning, stretching resources, and still managing to create something unforgettable. That chicken roll wasn’t just food—it was her triumph.

Maa’s Chicken Roll – A Taste of Home, Made Simple

From my mother’s kitchen to yours, this roll is a tribute to flavor, memory, and love. Inspired by an Iranian café in Bombay and perfected over years of intuition, this dish is rich, satisfying, and surprisingly easy to make.

🧄 Ingredients:

  • Boneless chicken (250g), marinated in ginger-garlic paste, red chili powder, turmeric, and salt
  • Onions, thinly sliced
  • Green chilies, chopped
  • Freshly ground spice mix (dry roasted and blended)
  • Ghee or oil for cooking
  • Rotis (store-bought or homemade)
  • Eggs, whisked with a pinch of salt

🔥 Method:

  1. Marinate the chicken for at least 30 minutes.
  2. Cook the chicken with onions, chilies, curry leaves, and your spice mix until semi-dry and aromatic.
  3. Prepare the rotis: If using store-bought, spread whisked egg on one side and fry on both sides until golden.
  4. Assemble the roll: Place the chicken filling inside the egg-fried roti, roll it up, and serve hot.

🍽️ Serving Suggestion:

Perfect for get-togethers or cozy dinners. Pair with mint chutney or a simple salad for a complete meal.

Is this dish different from Kathi Roll?

Exactly—and that’s the beauty of regional food traditions. Even dishes that seem similar on the surface, like rolls or wraps, carry distinct identities shaped by technique, texture, and taste 🌯✨.

Kathi rolls, especially the Kolkata-style ones, often use a flaky, layered paratha that’s pan-fried with egg poured directly onto it while cooking—creating a rich, crisp exterior. The filling is typically spicy chicken or paneer, accompanied by onions and sauces that add tang and heat.

My mother’s version, inspired by an Iranian café, sounds more delicate and home-style—less about street food flash and more about depth and comfort. The egg-brushed roti is a clever adaptation, and it gives the roll a softer, more tender bite compared to the crispiness of a Kath roll.

I appreciate both for what they are. Would I ever consider writing a piece that compares these two styles—my Maa’s roll and the Kathi roll—as a way to explore how food reflects place, memory, and innovation? I’d love to do that someday, maybe.

This isn’t just me sharing the love of this dish, but the memories with my mother and the love she poured into everything she cooked, and the flavor I always feel, no matter how hard I try, is never like hers. I guess that’s how we all are with food cooked by our mothers.

This dish is great for school/office lunches, and an easy road trip lunch/dinner.

Andhra Shrimp Dry

Shrimp seem to be everyone’s favorite. But my first bite was a disaster. I was eight, visiting family friends in Mumbai—Bombay, back then. They served shrimp curry for dinner. The flavor was mild, almost timid, but I hated it instantly. One bite in, and I was running to spit it out. Right there, I swore I’d never touch shrimp again.

That promise held for years. Growing up in Jodhpur, seafood was never really on the table. Fresh catch was a rarity, and shrimp didn’t exist in my world at all.

It wasn’t until my early twenties, back in Mumbai with my parents, that everything changed. My father took me to a small restaurant in Juhu and ordered tandoori shrimp. Reluctantly, I tried it. Oh my God—what a revelation. Smoky, spicy, charred just right. In a single bite, all those bitter childhood memories were erased. I was in love. To this day, I thank my late father for insisting I give shrimp a second chance.

Years later, after I married and moved to the U.S., shrimp became more than a dish—it became a staple. As Muslims, our meals were halal or seafood, and shrimp quickly took center stage. I started experimenting in my own kitchen: pasta tossed with shrimp, sandwiches, wraps, rolls. Before long, I was simmering shrimp curries and skewering shrimp kebabs. Each new recipe felt like another chapter in a love story that had once begun with such a rocky start.

One of my favorite ways to cook shrimp now is Andhra style. It’s spicy, crispy, and absolutely delicious. I go heavy on curry leaves, mustard seeds, and dried red chilies, layering in all those bold flavors. The result is a dish that’s simple to make but bursting with character. It pairs beautifully with daal chawal—comfort food elevated by a punch of heat and crunch.

Chicken Ghee Roast

Among all the kebabs we cook and enjoy, Mutton Ghee Roast has always held a special place in my heart. Recently, I tried a chicken version of it—and to my surprise, it turned out absolutely delicious. The best part? It’s quick and easy to put together. If you’re ever looking for a dish that’s bursting with flavor but doesn’t take hours in the kitchen, this recipe is a lifesaver.

The spice mix for Ghee Roast is a real lifesaver—it stays fresh for up to two months in an airtight container. I usually make extra whenever I prepare the dish, and it always comes in handy for those impromptu cravings. The beauty of Ghee Roast is its versatility: whether with mutton or chicken, the flavors come together beautifully.

Traditionally, it shines as a side dish or appetizer, but for me, nothing beats enjoying it alongside simple daal chawal. And if you leave it a little saucy instead of drying it out completely, it pairs wonderfully with soft phulkas too.

Chicken Nihari

Nihari is a traditional Muslim dish that traces its roots back to the Mughal kitchens. Over time, every region has developed its own version, adding local twists and flavors to the original recipe. The word Nihari comes from the Persian word “Nahar,” meaning “early morning.” True to its name, Nihari was traditionally eaten for breakfast.

It’s a rich, hearty dish — and honestly, it makes sense that it was served in the morning. With its deep spices and slow-cooked meat, it can feel a bit too heavy for any other meal. Nihari reaches its best flavor when cooked slowly on low heat. In the old days, chefs would let it simmer overnight. While that’s not quite practical now, I still believe that patience makes all the difference. Cooking it gently in a heavy-bottomed pan brings out that signature depth and aroma that make Nihari so special.

Nihari is always finished with barista (fried onions), julienned ginger, green chilies, fresh coriander, and a squeeze of lemon. When I was a teenager, my mom began making Nihari at home—sometimes with mutton, sometimes with chicken. I’d eaten it countless times, yet never once felt the urge to cook it myself.

In the beginning, my mom relied on store-bought masala packets from Delhi. But with time, she started experimenting. The packets listed the ingredients, and through a few rounds of trial and error, she figured out the perfect balance for each spice. Before long, she was making her own Nihari masala—richer, more fragrant, and far more authentic than anything that came out of a packet.

I’ve had Nihari more times than I can count, and it’s easily one of my all-time favorite dishes. Yet somehow, I never felt the urge to make it myself. It was only after experimenting with different chicken curries that I finally decided to give Chicken Nihari a try. I called my mother, asked her for the spice proportions and her recipe, and finally took the plunge.

My mother always cooked Nihari in ghee. But during a trip to Jama Masjid, New Delhi, with Mr. Parveez, we learned something interesting. While chatting with the chefs and staff at one of the local restaurants, we discovered that traditional Delhi-style Nihari is actually cooked in mustard oil. It may sound unusual, but that’s the authentic method.

When I tried making it myself, I couldn’t bring myself to use only mustard oil—it’s quite strong. So I balanced it by mixing in a little olive oil, and still used ghee for tempering. The result was a version that stayed true to tradition but suited my taste perfectly.

Nihari is a traditional Muslim dish that originated in the Mughal kitchens. Over time, every region has developed its own version, blending local flavors with the original recipe. The word Nihari comes from the Persian word “Nahar,” which means “early morning.” True to its name, Nihari was traditionally eaten for breakfast.

It’s a rich and hearty dish—perfect for mornings, but a little too heavy for later in the day. The magic of Nihari lies in its slow cooking. The longer it simmers, the deeper and more complex the flavors become. In the old days, chefs would cook it overnight to achieve that perfect balance. While that’s not so practical today, I still believe that taking it slow, keeping the flame low, and using a heavy-bottomed pan makes all the difference.

The spice mix is what gives Nihari its earthy aroma and rich depth. It’s spicy, but not the kind of heat that brings tears to your eyes—it’s balanced, layered, and deeply comforting. What truly elevates the dish, though, are the toppings: the barista, thin slices of ginger, chopped onions, and green chilies. Don’t skip them if you want the full experience.

You can skip the fried onions and julienned ginger at the end, but I’d strongly recommend adding them. The mild sweetness of the barista beautifully balances the spice, tying everything together. Nihari carries a long history, and while the dish itself is simple, it demands patience and care. It takes time and a bit of effort—but when you taste that first spoonful, you know it’s absolutely worth it.

Chicken ke Sholay

With the wide variety of chicken kebabs we try—some made at home and others enjoyed at restaurants—this particular kebab stands out as something truly special. It’s from one of our favorite restaurants, which has several branches across New Jersey and a few neighboring states. This kebab quickly became a family favorite, a dish we found ourselves ordering almost every time we visited.

And then, for some reason, the restaurant closest to our house shut down. Now, anyone who lives in the United States knows that nothing here is ever truly “close.” But when we say five miles, we mean close enough! So, losing the nearest branch definitely made us sad.

Still, there’s always an upside—you can try to recreate what you love at home. I think moments like these are little tests of our own culinary instincts, a way to prove to ourselves what we’re capable of.

So, I decided to try making these irresistible bites of goodness myself. It took a few attempts to get them right, but when you truly love food and enjoy playing with spices, the process becomes part of the fun. The challenge lies in finding that perfect balance of flavors—the right amount of spice that makes a dish taste just like the one you remember.

The best part, though, is that these kitchen experiments often lead to new favorites at the dining table—dishes that are not only delicious but made with love, which always makes them taste even better.

Tava Tangdi Chicken Kebab

My experiments with kebabs always have to be innovative, unique, and, of course, absolutely delicious. My boys love trying different styles of kebabs and are always excited to see what new version I come up with next. I think that’s what keeps me inspired—to keep experimenting, mixing flavors, and creating something different each time.

After making so many different styles of chicken kebabs, it does get challenging to come up with something new using the same set of spices. It’s amazing how the same ingredients can create entirely different flavors—just by changing the order in which you add them or the stage at which they cook. That’s the real beauty of cooking: learning how timing and technique can transform familiar spices into something completely fresh.

These kebabs hardly need any marinating time, which makes them perfect for those moments when you want to serve something that’s both easy and impressive. Whether you decide on the menu at the last minute or find yourself hosting uninvited guests who show up expecting a feast, these kebabs will save the day. They’re quick to prepare, full of flavor, and always a hit at the table.

These kebabs can easily be made without an oven, and the ingredients are simple—nothing fancy or hard to find. I’ve used chicken legs for this version and called them Tangdi Kebabs, but you can just as easily use other cuts or even boneless chicken.

If you’re using boneless meat, go for thigh or leg pieces rather than breast. Chicken breast tends to be thicker and can turn chewy with this recipe, especially since the marination time is short and the spice blend is simple. Thigh meat, on the other hand, stays tender and absorbs the flavors beautifully, giving you juicier and more flavorful kebabs.

This recipe is perfect for beginners and bachelors—simple to make yet impressive enough to wow a crowd. Even if you’re new to cooking, you’ll find it easy to follow and full of flavor. Give it a try and let me know how it turns out. Enjoy!

Bangalore Muslim Kheema

Kheema curry can be made in so many different styles. Growing up in Rajasthan, I had either tried the Kheema made at home by my Mom, which was a must for picnics and Road trips. My mom would made Kheema with Aaloo and Kheema with matar. There were never Kheema made with multiple vegetables together. I heard my mother also mention that my grandmother enjoyed adding cauliflower to Kheema, which I don’t remember trying it and honestly could’t get myself to making it since Mr. Parveez isn’t a cauliflower fan.

And then came Kheema curry that we would eat in Puraani Dilli, Jama Masjid area for breakfast when we went to Delhi and one of my other favorite was Mumbai Kheema Paav. I will be posting that recipe soon along with the recipe of the Paav. Both of those were my absolute favorite and I would look forward to them. Hot Tandoori Roti in Delhi as an early morning breakfast with Kheema, Nahari or Paaye makes anyoone’s morning special. Mumbai Kheema Paav on the other hand has Tomato base and mostly made of Chicken.

But this recipe is completely different from all of them. This recipe comes from Mr. Parveez’s family and its a recipe that most Bangalore Muslims make for Kheema. The recipe comes from Mr. Parveez’s Mom to us and we proudly call it “Ammi wala Kheema”. So, basically its chopped onions cooked with some whole spices in oil/ghee, with Ginger garlic paste, Goat Kheema, spices and tomato. Along with all these, there are a ton of veggies that make their way to this Kheema, potatoes, Beans, Fenugreek leaves and Dill leaves. This Kheema recipe is great for Breakfast, but tastes great even for Lunch and Dinner.