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ShareMumbai: Sitting in the shadow of the Minara Masjid, you cannot refuse to eat a chicken farcha," says Rizwan, who is part-hustler, part-waiter and full-time manager of one of the roadside stalls serving the large crowds pouring through the area at 10 pm on a weekday night.
Ramzan may be a month when devout Muslims fast and attempt to purify themselves. But it also is a time for overeating, much as the purists may frown. The lanes in the shadow of Minara Masjid become open-air eateries where the smells of cooking mingle with the hustle of people, the constant chatter of conversation and the comings and goings of a busy Indian street.
But we are here to eat. Chicken anything would not be my first choice but Rizwan will have none of that. Two years ago, eating here was a sorely disappointing experience -- the food was tired, tasteless and listless. Would I be pleasantly surprised or even more put off?
My companion was all excited and not very fastidious either. (When I told him I had brought a hand sanitiser along, he raised an eyebrow and said, "Why? You're hardly likely to put your hand inyour mouth after you've finished eating.")
I immediately summoned Rizwan and ordered a "kapura". The idea of eating anyone's testicles, even a goat's, usually shuts men up for a while. Rizwan also writes on his list liver (kaleji), kidney (gurda) and brain (bheja). There is no shermal here but he promises good home-made rotis.
The liver and kidney arrive first, hot and steaming. The roti takes a little time, but we cannot wait to dig in. The gravy for both is chopped tomato-onion but the masala is not heavy and complements the meat quite well. The kidney and liver are delicious -- soft, succulent and not a hint of chewiness or fibrous bits. The brain comes next. The gravy here carries a hint of ginger, is subtler to complement the delicate flavour of the brain. It looks a bit like scrambled eggs. The kapura looks like mushrooms and tastes like a combination of mushrooms and boiled egg yolk. It is, indeed, quite delicious. The chicken arrives and we nibble before we move on.
Biryani beckons as we wander down and look at the other delicacies on offer. I cannot resist a baida roti -- a paratha cooked with egg and mince. It is crisp on the outside, soft egg within and a kick from the mince.
The mutton biryani was much improved by the atmosphere and by the fact that it was hot. Otherwise a typical Mumbai biryani, lacking the subtlety of Lucknow and the kick of Hyderabad.
The malpua -- that evil, fried, delicious egg-filled, syrup-doused delicacy -- seems to have grown in size, each one looking bigger than a dinner plate. We ran out of courage and steam and settled for a phirni instead. Rice flour and thickened milk set in a little mud dish and eaten cold can be quite soothing after all the excitement. Of course, in an age where modaks are cranberry flavoured, phirni obviously comes in blackcurrant and strawberry flavours. We stick to plain old and do not regret it. Or anything else, actually.
A night of eating, well spent.
