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 Kulthi Curry [Kutt ka Salan]

Chicken and Lentils: A Surprising Love Story

Some dishes sound absolutely strange at first—but then you taste them, and they completely win you over. This is one of those dishes.

When my husband, Mr. Parveez, first told me about a curry made with chicken and lentils, I was skeptical. I assumed it was one of those nostalgic favorites—something he loved simply because he grew up eating it. To me, the idea of cooking chicken with lentils felt like a waste of perfectly good chicken.

But curiosity (and love) got the better of me. I gave it a try.

And to my surprise, the flavors were beautifully balanced. The lentils added a gentle earthiness, the chicken brought richness, and together they created a dish that was hearty, comforting, and absolutely delicious.

Sometimes, the most unexpected combinations turn out to be the most memorable.

From Stable to Table: The Story Behind a Humble Chicken Curry

Let’s get to the root of this dish’s story.

The lentils used here are horse gram—a hardy, protein-rich legume known for its earthy flavor and nutritional value. I make everything from scratch, and trust me, it’s not difficult to do. But back home in Bangalore, the tradition is even more rustic.

Yes, you read that right: the horse gram is soaked and boiled at the stables. The lentils themselves are fed to the horses, while the nutrient-rich water—the liquid left behind after boiling—is brought home. That humble broth, often with a few lentils still floating in it, becomes the base for a chicken curry that’s surprisingly rich, flavorful, and deeply satisfying.

It’s a dish born from resourcefulness, shaped by tradition, and elevated by taste. And once you try it, you’ll understand why something that sounds so unusual can taste so extraordinary.

Horse Gram & Chicken: A Dish I Never Expected to Love

I had never tried this dish back in Bangalore—and to be honest, I never really looked forward to it either. It just didn’t sound tempting. Cooking chicken with lentils? It felt like a mismatch, a waste of good chicken.

But one fine day, while grocery shopping, we stumbled upon horse gram daal. Mr. Parveez lit up instantly—nostalgia in full bloom. That meant we’d be starting from scratch, with no idea how to get the daal to the right cooking stage.

Thankfully, one of my sister-in-laws came to the rescue. She suggested soaking the daal overnight and then boiling it with turmeric powder, cumin powder, salt, and red chili powder until soft. She advised using just the water with about 25% of the daal, discarding the rest.

But I couldn’t bring myself to throw away the lentils. So I kept them—and ground them into a paste.

That small decision changed everything. The paste added body, depth, and a beautiful earthiness to the curry. What started as a hesitant experiment turned into a dish I now cherish. It’s a reminder that sometimes, the best flavors come from trusting your instincts.

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.

Paav Bhaaji

I still remember when the trend of Pav Bhaji first came to my town. I was in elementary school, and I absolutely loved the flavors—and so did everyone in my family. It was funny how suddenly Pav Bhaji became everyone’s favorite dish overnight.

I never got the chance to try it at a roadside stall, though I always wanted to. Back then, in the small town I grew up in, it wasn’t considered proper for women to stand and eat at street-side eateries. Writing this now makes it sound like it was ages ago, but really, it’s just been a few decades. What amazes me most is how much my town has changed—it’s exciting, and a little scary too.

Small cities have their own kind of magic. People are friendlier, they have more time, and somehow, everyone knows everyone. Back then, I could walk a mile and meet fifty familiar faces. Today, I might still meet the same number—but that warmth, that sense of closeness, feels a little lost.

Anyway, coming back to Pav Bhaji—my father would always bring it home as a takeaway, and we would all love it to the core. Eventually, my mother started buying Pav Bhaji masala and making it at home, and that’s when homemade Pav Bhaji became a family favorite. The Pav Bhaji masala I use even today is my mother’s recipe—simple, flavorful, and full of memories.

I’ve tried my hands at Pav Bhaji multiple times and have loved every bite of it each time. While my mother always added a mix of vegetables like cauliflower and carrots to her Pav Bhaji, I prefer keeping it simple with just potatoes and bell peppers. It makes the flavors more reminiscent of the original, street-style Pav Bhaji that I first fell in love with.

The Paav are also homemade. They are pretty easy as well. If you follow the recipe properly, you will be able to make these pillow soft amazing buns at home. You can serve the buns with anything, but as Paav with Bhaaji, they just seem to taste super amazing. To make them taste more delicious, split the buns, spread some butter and sprinkle some Paav Bhaaji masala on them and toast them on the Tava/ Pan.

Click and make your own Paav at home

Homemade Buns / Paav – Haala’s Dastarkhaan

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.

Pyaaz Ke Samose

I am from Rajasthan and I grew up eating Samosa. I always loved the potato samosa or Aaloo ke samose. Different samosa shops had completely different flavors, loved some, hated some but the outer crust was always enjoyed. In fact, for a very long time I only enjoyed the outer crust of the samosas and only loved the Kheema samosas made by my mom. I just never enjoyed any samosa filling when the filling did not have much spice or if it tasted bland. Later while trying different Samosas, I realized that the spicy ones were always what I loved.

After I got married, during one Ramadan in Bangalore, we tried the Ramadan special Onion Samosa or Pyaaz ke Samose and just loved them. The funny thing is that people feel that Ramadan for Muslims is only about Non vegetarian food which isn’t true. We have a mix of vegetarian and Non vegetarian foods during Ramadan and we enjoy it all. These samosas are only made during Ramadan, thought there are a few Muslim shops who make them besides Ramadan too, but trust me the flavor that the month of Ramadan has in special foods is not something we get during other times.

Now since we don’t get these samosas here, I decided to make them at home and a few trials and errors and they came out just the way we like them. If you like onions samosa and like to make them at home, Please do try these out. Hope you enjoy them just like we do.

Mutton Ghee Roast

With the wide variety of Kebabs that we make, we love kebabs made from meat the most. I love the way meat Kebabs are always so juicy and tender and absorb all the flavors so naturally. The texture of meat and the spices blend in so well together. I am sure if you look into details of cooking that when it comes to Kebabs, meat Kebabs definitely make to the top of the list. I have heard a lot of people liking Beef too, but since I have never cooked or consumed beef, I don’t really have an idea. But I do think that since Beef has a lot of fat, cooking with its own fat must be adding more flavor to it.

Coming back to Ghee Roast. I came across some cuisine where they mentioned the dish and showed how the meat is boiled till it’s cooked. after roasting the whole masalas, they are ground to a powder, and then the meat is cooked in ghee with spice powder, onions, curry leaves, and green chilies. This dish is pretty easy to make and makes it to my top ten list of easy and flavorful kebabs.

The best thing about these kebabs is that they can be partly premade a few days in advance as well. You can boil the mutton a few days in advance and refrigerate or freeze it, depending on how many days you want to use it. Similarly, you can always dry roast the whole masala and grind them and store them in a dry and airtight container. These kebabs are juicy, moist, flavorful, and go really well as a side dish or by itself. If you are a fan of meat kebabs, you will love the scrumptious chunks of flavorful meat. Enjoy!!!

Bharwaan Bhindi

Some recipes are simple, yet I never get amazed when people still ask me ways to cook them. Its just that simplest things sometimes look complicated. Starting with the story for this dish, its funny, hilarious and true. I don’t like Bhindi.

Out of all the vegetables that could ever be grown, Bhindi has been my least favorite. Actually, its on my “Hit list”. I always felt the seeds looked like raw teeth. Yeah please do not ask me the concept of Raw teeth. I am sure its an outcome of my over intelligent brain. So, seeds looked like teeth, then it was too green and I never liked that shade of green. I mean come one, I need to come up with a better excuse, but that is the expression of a 5 year old. And the last one was, that I felt it was too gluey and chewy. Altogether, I convinced my mother enough for her to understand that consuming this vegetable would either kill me after the first bite, or definitely give me food poisoning.

The funnier part is that when I started venturing out in the kitchen, and cooked varieties, Bhindi was one of the best veggies I cooked and it was loved immensely and I was asked to cook it more often. I would always happily oblige despite the fact that I would never dare to taste what I made and was loved so much. Think of it as a coincidence or perfect soulmates, Mr. Parveez doesn’t like Bhindi either, so I never felt the need to cook it. Until recently, we just decided on eating more greens and we both thought that Bhindi/Okra was worth another try. And, we did end up trying a few different recipes and I am sharing the ones that we enjoyed the most.

So this recipe, of course requires Okra, along with that we need Onions, green chilies, cumin seeds, Dry red chilies and a few dry spices. I usually wash and pat dry my Okra. After mixing in the dry spices, I slit the Okra and add the spice mix to them. After adding oil to the pan, add cumin seeds, onions and green chilies and further add the Okra with the spice mix. You can also use baby onions and slit and add masala to them too. This curry is dry and goes really well with Phulka/Roti or as a side curry with Daal – Chawal.