Harissa — Kashmir’s Winter Staple
A worker grinds rice — one of many laborious steps involved in making harissa.
When the harsh winters approach Kashmir, with temperatures falling sharply, most people prefer to stay indoors. It is only the craving for harissa that could compel anyone to get out of their cosy homes.
Harissa is an authentic winter delicacy of Kashmir. This traditional mutton curry is usually eaten with a Kashmiri bread called tchot. Slow cooked over hours, the main ingredient of this textural dish is sheep or goat meat, cooked with short-grained rice and flavoured with spices such as fennel seeds, cinnamon and cardamom.
After being cooked overnight, until the meat is tender enough to fall off the bone, the stew-like curry is further mashed. It is finally garnished with mutton kebabs and methi maaz (or lamb intestines chopped and cooked with dried fenugreek), with smoking mustard oil poured over. It is a rich and flavourful dish, which is particularly apt for the weather.
A plate of caramel-hued harissa and Kashmiri tchot.
The delicacy traces its origin in Central Asia. It is believed to have been first introduced to Kashmir during the 14th century with the arrival of the Sufi saint, Mir Syed Ali Hamdani, from Persia (present-day Iran).
According to Zareef Ahmad Zareef, a renowned Kashmiri poet and historian, harissa was formally introduced to Kashmiris during the Afghan rule. At that time, the economic condition of Kashmir was bad. During these early times, harissa was used to appease someone or to offer as a gift, as it was not just beloved but also time-consuming and expensive to prepare.
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Showket Ahmed sprinkles hot mustard oil over a pot of harissa.
The oldest harissa shops are found at Aali Kadal, Fateh Kadal and Rajouri Kadal in downtown Srinagar, with a few famous shops in Maisuma and Sarai Bal in uptown Srinagar. These shops have been continuing the legacy of making harissa for many decades.
Showket Ahmad,a 41-year-old harissa maker whose shop is located in Sarai Bal, says that he has been in the business for the last 30 years.
“I have learnt this art from my father and used to help him at the shop during my school days,” said Ahmad. “But after my father passed, I was left with no choice but to leave my studies and take over the reins of the shop started by my father back in the 1990s, when the insurgency was at its peak in Kashmir.”
Preparing harissa is not an easy job as it demands a lot of time and manpower. The process of making the dish starts in the afternoon, when short-grain Kashmiri rice is cooked and ground into a thick paste in a big earthen pot over an underground, wood-fired oven. This takes about three to four hours. Fresh lamb meat is added to the pot along with various spices like garlic, shallots, cardamom, fennel seeds and cloves, and this mixture is left to simmer for another seven or eight hours (and even overnight).
In the wee hours, before the fajr prayers, the bones are separated from the meat and the sumptuous paste is given a good mix. Removing the bones is considered one of the most difficult tasks while making harissa. But it is also crucial, because even a single, small piece of bone left behind could ruin the whole dish. Then, after the fajr prayers, the harissa is ready to be served to customers waiting in the freezing cold.
Generally, four earthen pots are used to make harissa. One is used to cook the dish, while another is used for the methi maaz and two others are used to boil water. The earthen pots are changed at least 3-4 times every season, and each new pot costs approximately Rs 4000 ($50).
Nowadays, harissa is made in some restaurants in the city as well. To make the laborious job somewhat easier, it is prepared in pressure cookers. But purists believe that short-cuts don’t do justice to the dish.
Fayaz Ahmad, a chef who makes harissa the traditional way, says that modern ways of cooking it have ruined its original taste.
“Nowadays, it is prepared in steel utensils, instead of earthen pots,” he says. According to him, cooking in a clay pot imbues the dish with some trace nutrients. Besides, clay pots also retain fat and moisture better, which makes the finished dish tender and juicy.
“When left to simmer for about 12 hours, the earthen pot holds the flavour of all the spices together and makes the finished product more pleasant and aromatic,“ he says.
While Ahmad may have a point about the flavour of the dish, the pressures of rising costs and the lack of time or manpower means that shortcuts may be inevitable.
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The earthen pot is sealed and allowed to cook overnight for up to 12 hours.
At sunrise, people leave their homes and start walking towards the harissa shops. Even older people are inspired to make the trip. One can only have harissa in the morning hours, as the shops close at 9 AM, to restart the cycle of making the dish for the next day.
“I still remember my childhood days when I used to save my pocket money for weeks, and wait for the day when I would have saved [enough] to get a plate of harissa,” said Firdous Ahmad, a resident of Srinagar. “The craving for harissa did not let me sleep the whole night, as I was [only] a few hours away from having a plate.”
“[Even though] I am getting older, my habit of getting harissa in the winter is not going to fade away, as the craving is still the same. I inherited the habit from my father, who used to buy harissa for us when we were young.”
Ahmad recalls that there used to be community feasts that revolved around the dish.
“I recall the old memories when there used to be a harissa saal (or feasts organised for close acquaintances and neighbours during the winters.) But nowadays, we hardly see it anywhere. I wish the same old-time practices would come back and I could have harissa in a harissa saal again.” In recent years, this Kashmiri tradition has also found popularity in other parts of the country.
“The craving for Kashmiri harissa is not only limited to the geographical boundaries of Kashmir but is also widely loved across the country,” said Showket Ahmed, who specialises in making harissa. “It’s flown to several parts of the country in the morning and parts of various Gulf countries.” He also adds that they receive orders from tourists visiting Kashmir. Hotels offer their customers harissa as a breakfast meal.
Muqeet Shah, 21, a college-going student, says that he prefers harissa over the other, less nutritious options available widely.
“Harissa is among my favourite dishes,” he said. “Nowadays, most youngsters prefer junk food at restaurants. Harissa is highly nutritious and beneficial for health. I never miss having it in the winters. I feel tired the whole day if I don’t have a breakfast of harissa soon after the fajr prayers during the season. Nowadays, it’s easy to get it at home as many online grocery shopping sites have started delivering the dish in the morning. But going to a harissa shop on cold mornings is a part of the tradition, and most people prefer to have it at their [favourite spots]. I often argue with my father about why he rushes to the shops when it can be easily delivered to our doorstep. But he argues that harissa is not harissa [unless you have it] at the shop.”
Harissa prices have been continuously fluctuating over time, but the quality has largely remained the same. The price of the dish is directly proportional to the price of the mutton. Nowadays, a kilogram of harissa costs between Rs 1000 to Rs 1100. Considered a delicacy, it is also served to guests in the winter season.
Despite the nostalgia and demand for the dish, the younger generation is hesitant to take over the reins of this demanding business. The harissa-making tradition is now left in the hands of a few chefs.
Showket Ahmed says that the last few years have been particularly challenging because of Covid-19 lockdowns. Unlike in earlier years, many customers preferred to stay indoors.
Even as he welcomes the easing of restrictions and the slow return of tourists to the Kashmir Valley, Ahmed is also pensive about the future of the tradition in Kashmir.
“When I was of my son’s age, I had learnt some skills of making harrisa from my father, but my son has never been to the shop,” he says. “He wants to do something else. I’ll continue to do this task until my last breath. But I fear the day is not too far when this tradition will die a silent death.”
