Chicken Nihari

Nihari is a traditional Muslim delicacy with its roots in the royal Mughal kitchens. Over time, different regions embraced the dish and added their own local twists, creating the rich variations we enjoy today.
The name Nihari comes from the Persian word “Nahar,” meaning early morning—and true to its name, this slow-cooked, aromatic stew was traditionally enjoyed for breakfast.

It’s a rich, hearty dish—and honestly, it makes perfect sense that it was served in the morning. With its deep spices and slow-cooked meat, Nihari can feel a bit too indulgent for any other meal. Its true flavor unfolds only with time. Traditionally, chefs would let it simmer overnight, allowing the spices and meat to meld beautifully. While that may not always be practical today, patience still makes all the difference. Cooking Nihari gently on low heat in a heavy-bottomed pan brings out its signature depth, aroma, and soul—what truly makes this dish so special.

Nihari is always finished with barista—crispy fried onions—along with julienned ginger, green chilies, fresh coriander, and a final squeeze of lemon. As a teenager, I watched my mother make Nihari at home, sometimes with mutton, sometimes with chicken. I had eaten it countless times, yet never once felt the urge to cook it myself.

In the beginning, my mom relied on store-bought Nihari masala packets from Delhi. Over time, though, she began to experiment. The packets listed the ingredients, and through rounds of trial and error, she discovered the perfect balance for each spice. Before long, she was grinding her own Nihari masala—deeper, more fragrant, and far more authentic than anything that ever 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 try my hand at Chicken Nihari. I called my mother, asked for her spice proportions and method, and finally took the plunge.

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

When I finally made it myself, I couldn’t bring myself to use only mustard oil—it’s quite strong. So I balanced it with a little olive oil and still used ghee for the tempering. The result was a version that stayed true to tradition, yet felt perfectly suited to my own taste.

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

You can skip the fried onions and julienned ginger at the end—but I’d strongly recommend adding them. The gentle sweetness of the barista beautifully balances the spices, bringing the whole dish together. Nihari carries a long and storied history, and while the preparation may seem simple, it demands patience and care. It takes time and a little effort—but with that very first spoonful, you know it’s completely worth it.

Laal Maas

Laal Maas is a traditional dish from my hometown, Jodhpur, with roots that trace back to the royal kitchens of the Rajput families. It was once considered a prized specialty, often prepared using game meat brought back from royal hunts. Bold, fiery, and deeply flavorful, the dish reflected both the adventurous spirit of the Rajput warriors and their love for rich, robust cuisine.

Over time, Laal Maas has remained immensely popular. From the royal kitchens, it gradually found its way into restaurants across Jodhpur, where chefs continue to prepare it in their own distinctive styles—introducing subtle variations while still honoring the essence of the original recipe.

This version is my personal interpretation, inspired by the many places where I have tasted Laal Maas and the flavors that stayed with me long after the meal. Interestingly, many people outside Rajasthan assume that Laal Maas is a common everyday dish in non-vegetarian households, particularly among the Muslim community. In reality, it belongs to the royal culinary heritage of Jodhpur and is more closely associated with the Rajput kitchens than with daily home cooking.

When preparing this dish, I prefer to lightly boil the mutton before starting the curry. This step helps reduce the overall cooking time and allows the meat to absorb the spices more effectively, resulting in tender, juicy pieces of mutton infused with flavor in every bite.

Traditionally, Laal Maas is cooked in generous amounts of ghee—something Rajasthani cuisine takes great pride in. The richness of ghee adds a distinctive depth and aroma that defines the dish. However, I usually combine a little oil with the ghee, as cooking entirely in pure ghee can feel quite heavy by today’s standards. Of course, if you want the most authentic experience and are not worried about the calories, feel free to prepare it entirely with ghee. And if you prefer a lighter approach, you can cook it with oil and simply finish with a teaspoon of ghee for that signature aroma.

Despite its bold reputation, this recipe is relatively straightforward to prepare and approachable even for beginners—while still delivering the rich, unforgettable flavors that make Laal Maas such an iconic dish.

This recipe is relatively easy to make and can be prepared by beginners, with truly delicious flavors.

Paav Bhaaji

For me, Pav Bhaji is not just a dish — it’s a memory, a time capsule that takes me straight back to childhood.

I still remember when the Pav Bhaji trend first arrived in my town. I was in elementary school, and almost overnight it became everyone’s favorite food. The rich aroma, the buttery pav, the vibrant, spicy bhaji — it felt exciting and new, like a taste of a bigger world arriving in our quiet little city. My whole family fell in love with it instantly, especially me.

I never got to experience it the way many people did — standing at a bustling roadside stall, eating straight off a hot griddle. I always wanted to, but in the small town where I grew up, it wasn’t considered proper for women to eat at street-side vendors. It sounds like something from another era, yet it wasn’t that long ago — just a few decades. Writing about it now, I’m amazed at how much my town has changed since then. The transformation is exciting, but also a little unsettling.

Small towns have a magic of their own. Life moves slower, people are warmer, and relationships feel closer. Back then, I could walk down the street and run into dozens of familiar faces — neighbors, shopkeepers, school friends, distant relatives. Today, I might still see just as many people, but that easy sense of connection feels softer, almost faded. Progress brings many good things, but sometimes it quietly takes a few precious ones away too.

Since I couldn’t go to the stalls, my father would bring Pav Bhaji home as takeaway, and those evenings felt like celebrations. We would gather around, tearing into buttery pav, scooping up the spicy bhaji, savoring every bite. Eventually, my mother began recreating it at home using store-bought Pav Bhaji masala, and soon her version became just as beloved. Over time, she developed her own blend — simple, balanced, and deeply comforting. It’s the same masala I still use today, and every time I cook with it, it feels like bringing a piece of her kitchen into mine.

I’ve made Pav Bhaji countless times over the years, and it never loses its charm. My mother liked to add a variety of vegetables — cauliflower, carrots, peas — making it wholesome and hearty. I, however, prefer a simpler version with just potatoes and bell peppers. Somehow, that minimal approach brings me closer to the bold, buttery street-style flavor that first captured my heart.

The pav in this recipe are homemade too, and they’re surprisingly easy to make. If you follow the steps carefully, you’ll be rewarded with soft, pillowy buns that rival any bakery version. Of course, these buns are wonderful with many dishes, but paired with bhaji, they become something truly special.

For the best experience, slice the buns in half, spread a generous layer of butter, sprinkle a little Pav Bhaji masala, and toast them on a hot tava or pan until golden and fragrant. That simple step transforms them completely — crisp on the outside, soft on the inside, and infused with buttery spice.

Some foods nourish the body. Others nourish the heart. For me, Pav Bhaji does both.

Click and make your own Paav at home

Homemade Buns / Paav – Haala’s Dastarkhaan

Chicken Veggies oven special

With all the different kinds of foods that we consume, at times you just feel that your tummy needs a break. You feel you need more veggies, less oil, fewer carbs, in all just a healthy meal. But, the problem that people like me face is that we also need something that tastes scrumptious and good along with all the health benefits.

Specially, if you have children as demanding as mine, you basically fight a battle. When the demand is to make veggies look more appealing and to make their protein go leaner without them noticing. That’s when dishes like this are invented.

This Chicken is marinated with spices making it flavorful. The spices can always be switched or played around with. I added Tandoori powder and Red chili powder to make the flavors a little more spicy, but you can always reduce the quantity or omit the spices altogether. I find this a great recipe for easy lunch and dinner.

Bangalore Muslim Kheema

Kheema curry can be prepared in countless ways, each region and family giving it a personality of its own. Growing up in Rajasthan, the kheema I knew was always my mother’s — simple, comforting, and almost always reserved for picnics and long road trips. She would typically make Kheema with aaloo (potatoes) or Kheema with matar (peas). What I never saw in her kitchen was a version loaded with multiple vegetables together.

I do remember her mentioning that my grandmother liked adding cauliflower to kheema, though I don’t recall ever tasting it myself. And to be honest, I’ve never attempted it either — mostly because Mr. Parveez isn’t a fan of cauliflower. Some culinary traditions quietly skip a generation, especially when family preferences step in.

Then there were the unforgettable versions from our travels. In Old Delhi, near the Jama Masjid area, we would wake up early just to enjoy a hearty breakfast of kheema served with hot tandoori roti. Sometimes it would be accompanied by nahari or paaye — rich, slow-cooked dishes that could turn any ordinary morning into something special. Another favorite that captured my heart was Mumbai’s Kheema Paav, with its slightly tangy tomato base, often made with chicken, and served with buttery toasted buns. Those breakfasts are memories I still cherish, and recipes for both the kheema and the paav will be coming soon.

But the recipe I’m sharing here is completely different from all of those. This one comes from Mr. Parveez’s family — a style of kheema commonly prepared in many Bangalore Muslim homes. Passed down from his mother, we fondly call it “Ammi wala Kheema,” because it carries her unmistakable touch and warmth.

The preparation begins with finely chopped onions slowly sautéed in oil or ghee along with fragrant whole spices. Ginger-garlic paste follows, then the goat kheema, ground spices, and tomatoes. What truly sets this version apart, however, is the generous addition of vegetables — potatoes, beans, fresh fenugreek leaves, and dill leaves — all simmered together until the flavors meld beautifully. The herbs add a depth and freshness that makes this dish both hearty and uniquely aromatic.

Although it’s traditionally enjoyed as a breakfast dish, this kheema is wonderfully versatile. It tastes just as delicious for lunch or dinner, served with roti, bread, or even rice. Comforting, wholesome, and deeply rooted in family tradition, this “Ammi wala Kheema” is more than just a recipe — it’s a piece of home on a plate. 🍲✨

Kolkata Chicken Roll

Chicken rolls have always been a favorite in our home. Those of you who follow my blog know how much I love wraps of all kinds — whether it’s a classic chicken roll, a burrito, or tacos. I think this love goes back to my mom. During one of her trips to Mumbai, she tasted Mutton Tikka Boti Rolls at a Parsi eatery and later recreated them at home. They were an instant hit with the entire family, and from that point on, rolls became a regular comfort food for us.

So when I came across pictures of the famous Kolkata Chicken Roll, I knew I had to try making it. The flavors sounded irresistible — bold, layered, and packed with personality. From everything I’ve read, it’s one of Kolkata’s most iconic street foods, loved for its rich taste and satisfying simplicity. Although I’ve never visited Kolkata, there’s something about its food culture that deeply attracts me. Some places just connect with you through their cuisine, even from afar.

Recipes like this are wonderfully fuss-free and incredibly practical. For those of us living far from our home country, food becomes a powerful way to stay connected to our roots. At the same time, dishes like these are perfect for kids — easy to eat, nutritious, and ideal for busy days or meals on the go.

I grew up loving my mom’s Tikka Boti Rolls. She initially made them with mutton, but later switched to chicken as well, and I adored both versions. I’ve always appreciated recipes that travel well — perfect for road trips, long drives, or those moments when hunger strikes and stopping isn’t an option. Not every journey allows for leisurely restaurant breaks, and sometimes you’re just stuck in traffic after a game or a long day. That’s when homemade rolls like these truly shine — convenient, filling, and deeply satisfying.

For this version, I marinated boneless chicken with salt, ginger-garlic paste, lemon juice, and yogurt. The spice blend includes dried fenugreek leaves, tandoori masala, red chili powder, cumin powder, and fennel powder, creating a beautifully aromatic base. The chicken can be marinated overnight for deeper flavor, but even a quick 30–45 minute marinade works well when time is short.

This recipe may not be an exact replica of the rolls you’d find on the streets of Kolkata, but after many trials and countless variations, this is the version I keep coming back to. One element I borrowed from my mom’s technique is spreading a thin layer of beaten egg onto the roti and cooking it before adding the filling. I’m not entirely sure how this differs from traditional Kolkata egg rolls, but I do know that it adds richness, texture, and a wonderful depth of flavor.

Ultimately, this recipe is a blend of influences — my mother’s cooking, flavors I’ve loved over the years, and my own experiments in the kitchen. The result is a chicken roll that feels both familiar and new, comforting yet exciting.

I hope you try it, enjoy it, and share it with your loved ones — just as my family and I do. 🌯✨

Pyaaz Ke Samose

I’m from Rajasthan, and I grew up eating samosas as a regular part of life. The classic potato samosa — aaloo ke samose — was everywhere, and every shop seemed to have its own signature flavor. Some were absolutely delicious, others not so much, but one thing I always loved was the crisp, flaky outer crust. In fact, for a long time, that was my favorite part. The only filling I truly adored back then was the kheema samosa my mom used to make at home.

I never enjoyed bland fillings, so whenever the spice level was low, I would lose interest quickly. Over time, as I tasted more varieties, I realized that it was the spicy, punchy samosas that won my heart every single time.

After I got married, I discovered a completely new favorite. During one Ramadan in Bangalore, we tried the famous Ramadan special onion samosas — Pyaaz ke Samose — and instantly fell in love with them. Crisp, aromatic, slightly sweet from the onions, and perfectly spiced, they were unlike any samosa I had eaten before.

There’s a common misconception that Ramadan food for Muslims is mostly non-vegetarian, but that couldn’t be further from the truth. Our iftar tables are filled with a beautiful mix of vegetarian and non-vegetarian dishes, each with its own tradition and story. These onion samosas are a perfect example — simple ingredients transformed into something truly special.

They are most commonly made during Ramadan, though a few Muslim shops prepare them year-round. Still, there’s something about foods made in that month — perhaps the anticipation, the hunger, the togetherness — that makes them taste extra special. It’s a flavor that’s hard to recreate outside that atmosphere.

Since we don’t get these samosas where we live now, I decided to try making them at home. After several rounds of trial and error, I finally arrived at a version that tastes just the way we remember — crispy on the outside, flavorful on the inside, and utterly addictive.

If you enjoy onion samosas and want to recreate that Ramadan magic in your own kitchen, I highly recommend giving these a try. I hope you love them as much as we do. 🥟✨

Lobster Curry

My love for Lobster Curry began in 2012, during our first visit to Kerala. We stayed on a houseboat in Alleppey, surrounded by the serene backwaters and blessed with the most perfect weather. It was around Christmas time — truly the best season to visit Kerala. During our stay, our hosts served an array of traditional Kerala dishes, especially seafood prepared in rich, aromatic coconut gravies. That’s where I tasted Lobster Curry for the very first time which I loved — and it was pure magic.

I had tried Lobsters before at several seafood restaurants, but they were always mildly cooked and flavored with nothing more than garlic and salt. The Lobster Curry in Kerala, however, was beyond my expectations — rich, flavorful, and absolutely unforgettable. The houseboat had three men who managed everything — from cooking to cleaning and maintenance — and they did it all with such warmth and care. Our time there remains one of the best vacations we’ve ever had. The weather, the calm of the backwaters, the walks surrounded by lush greenery, and the incredible hospitality made every moment truly memorable.

After tasting that unforgettable Lobster Curry, I just had to ask for the recipe — and our gracious host gladly shared it with me. Though the recipe was more of a rough guide than exact measurements, it was enough for me to understand the essence and recreate this wonderfully delicious dish back home.

The original recipe was cooked in coconut oil, but I made mine using olive oil since I don’t usually cook with coconut oil. I honestly don’t think it changes the flavor too much — it just makes the dish a little less “coconuty.” Since I still add coconut milk, the curry retains that perfect balance and richness that complements the rest of the ingredients beautifully. I did make a few other changes too, so I can’t really call this an authentic Kerala dish anymore — it’s more of my inspired version of it.

When I order lobsters for home delivery—which is, of course, the preferred option these days—I clean them myself. But if you’re picking fresh ones at a fish market, you can always ask them to crack the claws and cut the lobsters in half for you. I usually parboil the lobsters with a little turmeric powder and salt; it helps get rid of any musky smell.

To make the curry, I start by heating oil and adding black seeds (kalonji) and curry leaves, followed by finely chopped onions. Once the onions turn soft and transparent, I add ginger-garlic paste along with all the spices and some fennel powder. I find fennel powder brings a lovely freshness, especially to seafood dishes. Next, I pour in the coconut milk—or coconut purée—and tomato purée, stirring until everything blends together beautifully. Finally, I add the lobsters and let them simmer gently for about 10–12 minutes, until the curry thickens and the flavors come together perfectly.

The Lobster Curry might look complicated, but honestly, it takes less time to prepare than a regular chicken curry—and it looks absolutely stunning on the dining table. The best part is that this same recipe works wonderfully with crab too; just substitute the lobster for crab, and you’re good to go. I truly hope you enjoy cooking this dish and love it as much as my family and I do!

Chicken Quesadilla

These delicious wraps are filled with spicy pan-fried chicken and gooey cheese, coming together in just 30–40 minutes. It’s the kind of dish that’ll have your kids asking for seconds — and maybe even thirds! They’re easy to make, can be prepped partly ahead of time, and make for the perfect quick meal or snack. These little scrumptious bites are guaranteed to win hearts at the table.

For the chicken, you can use rotisserie chicken, leftover grilled chicken, or even kebabs — anything that’s already cooked works perfectly. I made mine in a Tex-Mex style. I sautéed some onions and green chilies, then added paprika, cumin powder, chili flakes, garlic powder, onion powder, and a touch of dried parsley. To spike it up, I mixed in a little apple cider vinegar and hot sauce. Cook everything together until the chicken dries up slightly and the sauce coats it completely — that’s when you know it’s ready for your wraps.

You can always make these quesadillas using store-bought tortillas, but I prefer making mine at home with a mix of all-purpose flour and corn flour. They’re actually quite easy to prepare — especially if you have a tortilla maker. Once your tortillas are ready, spoon some of the cooked chicken onto one half, sprinkle plenty of cheese, and fold them over. Bake in a preheated oven for about 10 minutes, just until the cheese melts and the tortillas turn lightly crisp.

For serving, you can cut the quesadillas in half — it makes them look neater and easier to eat. These quesadillas are deliciously filling, easy to make, and packed with flavor. Perfect for a quick lunch, dinner, or even a fun family snack.

Murgh Hyderabadi Biryani

Hyderabad has numerous varieties especially when it comes to Biryanis. I have tried making a wide range of different styles of Hyderabadi Biryanis. Each one has its own distinct flavor and ingredients. I always love how beautifully the heritage of Nizams is displayed in Hyderabadi food.

The dishes are not just rich in ingredients but also the recipes show how rich the food culture has been with the Nizams. We always hear stories of how generous the Nizams were when it came to entertaining and welcoming their guests. How lavish their Dastarkhaan or tables were. The curries, Haleem, so many varieties of sweet dishes that are served with oodles of dry fruits and cooked in clarified Butter are evidence of how much effort the Nizams made their Khansamas/chefs put into food.

The Nizams were very influential. The history showcases the rich taste not just in Gems and Jewelry, but also in food. The use of Milk solids, Ghee, Dry fruits of different kinds is pretty common in most dishes. This dish has a paste of poppy seeds, cashews and coconut. Though the spice level isn’t too high, the Biryani uses a paste of green chilies and you can always increase the green chilies if you wish to make it spicier. Using Kewra with food color makes the Biryani smell rich and inviting as well. Besides that the Biryani is pretty easy to make. This dish is great for Beginners too. Enjoy!!!