Review of Degh To Dastarkhwan — Qissas And Recipes From Rampur: Comfort from qorma

A collection of essays links history and memories, with food as the starting point

Tarana Husain Khan’s absorbing new book,  Degh to Dastarkhwan: Qissas and Recipes from Rampur, is more than just a cookbook or a memoir. The collection of essays braids history and memories, stories of compelling people, migration, with food as the fulcrum driving the narratives. In the Author’s Note, Khan writes, “Each chapter represents an emotion, an observance, or a celebration... the quotidian Rampuri dastarkhwan becomes the arena to express love, loss, forgiveness and spirituality. Thus, qorma celebrates weddings, pulao comforts the mourners, kebabs invite forgiveness and andarsas welcome monsoons.”

Historical details form the backbone of almost all the essays putting in focus the food of Rampur, a princely state established by Rohilla Pathans in 1774 under British rule. Each chapter in the book contains recipes, some from old cookbook manuscripts, and also newer versions adapted to changing traditions, ingredients, and cooking methods. While mentioning the Taar Roti, the star dish served during marriage reception banquets, Khan mentions that the Taar curry of her childhood used to be thin and golden hued while the curry made today is a vermillion hued, thick gravy. The change in texture was brought about to easily scoop up the curry along with a piece of meat with a morsel of roti. What emerges then is an understanding of how foods change subtly according to changing traditions and to accommodate the resources and conveniences of people.

The author’s foray into the culinary heritage of Rampur started when she came across a 150-year-old cookbook manuscript in Persian at the famed Raza library in Rampur while researching for her novel. Khan, who learnt basic Persian in order to decode the manuscripts in the library, became a food detective as she set upon translating the measurements and weights besides the instructions which had a familiarity lost in time, like this one: “When it becomes thick, add meat and some proper masala and keep watching...”

On a quest to understand the recipe for Pulao Shahjahani, the instruction to temper the meat with yakni water and evaporate half the shorba stopped her short because she could not discern the fine difference between yakhni and shorba. Two recipe books on Mughal cuisine came to her rescue and helped decode the recipe for the fragrant pulao.

Along with members of the royal family of Rampur, Khan also introduces readers to special people who made her memories richer by their presence. We read about Mehrun who eloped taking with her a delectable rice and milk sweet dish stored in the fridge to be served as dessert after dinner, sending the family into a tizzy over the elopement of the girl as also the loss of a prized treat. Then there is Kallu Kababi, a rickshawpuller too frail to pull rickshaws who was trained by Khan’s mother-in-law in the fine art of making shammi kababs. Kallu Kababi took to his new role with aplomb bequeathing his skills to his son who took over the trade and also the name after the father ‘retired’.

The details about food and history interspersed with anecdotes and titbits about the royal family of Rampur make this book a compelling read. A word of advice though, make sure you have food on the table before sitting down to read, pulao maybe, or a kabab or kheer, you’ll need it!

Along with family dynamics and historical information seeping through in each of the essays, you get to see the fine and careful focus given to preparing various dishes — how golden strands of sugar syrup can elevate the sewain and the effort involved to get it just right, how even a small variation in the use of ingredients can alter the taste of a much loved sweet.