News from the Valley

An unplanned, short and sudden visit to the Valley was probably the best thing that happened to us in the year of 2023. To be fair, it started off on a precarious note with SpiceJet delaying our early morning flight by eight hours, reducing our number of days by almost one. When the messages from SpiceJet started coming about ‘delay due to operational reasons’ I was reminded of a similar incident on another impromptu trip to the Himalayas from AIIMS, Delhi, after our MD final exam in 2018. Of course, that was by a train called All Jatt Pooja Express which was delayed  over ten hours and we were six young bloods who had already cleared their residency and were hell bent on bunking an extra day to complete the hike. On that note, another similarity was the unbridled skepticism and ominous premonitions in my mother’s voice about our actually reaching the final destinations. However, unlike the trip five years ago, we had our hotel rooms and return flight tickets booked and there was also the urgent need to get back to our respective work places on time which, unfortunately, we could no longer bunk.

 

I do not think it is possible to describe the beauty of Kashmir in mere words. It is undoubtedly Paradise. The Mughal Gardens (Chashme Shahi, Nishat and Shalimar) were truly magnificent, and they do not build gardens like these anymore; the shikara ride on a rainy day on a lonely Dal Lake, abandoned by the tourists for a while because of the weather, was enchanting; and the surprise snowfall in Gulmarg was the ‘icing’ on the cake. But for today, I just want to focus on the food and the flora that completely and most overwhelmingly consumed us. A small note - the descriptions that follow are purely from what we learnt from the locals and may not be wholly accurate or complete. 

 

We were welcomed in our hotel by a warm cup of kahwa. In the course of the next three days we consumed innumerable cups of this traditional Kashmiri drink that warmed us to the very core. The name comes from ‘kah’ which means eleven in Kashmiri. The drink is made from eleven spices, mixed with generous dollops of sugar/honey and adorned lovingly with crushed almonds or walnuts. The flavour is enhanced by keeping it warm in a copper vessel known as a samovar with burning coal inside. It is said to be curative for all sorts of maladies. At a small but one of the oldest roadside stalls called Noor Mohammad Batt, they served us kahwawith a Kashmiri sweet bread called shirmal to dip into it. Every shop that we went to, the owners would enthusiastically offer us kahwa and most of the time, I confess, we did not refuse. On our visit to Gulmarg, while we got snowfall in phase two, we also got rains once we got back. Old Dana Pani, a very small shop at the parking area in Gulmarg, served us, possibly, the warmest kahwa and a small personal heater on our table to dry ourselves. The warmth had never been so welcoming. 

Waah Kahwa

Samovar

Crossing the Pulwama district, on our way to Pahalgam, we came across about 10-12kms of fields of saffron. The world’s best saffron are cultivated here. Did you know that saffron flowers are a beautiful colour of purple? I did not, and I was mesmerized seeing open fields of purple. These must be picked within 2-3 days or they get spoilt. From here, saffron is exported all across the globe. They say a gram of saffron of the purest quality is more expensive than a gram of pure gold.

Saffron flower

After the fields of saffron, we crossed a village where our driver told us that cricket bats were made from the willow tree. I am sure most of you would be familiar with the willow tree- the weeping willow, the Whomping Willow or just Willow Taylor’s Version. The willow tree has drooping branches with slender pale green leaves. On both sides of the roads were stacks of carved cricket bats being dried on roofs of houses and shops. They reminded me of my own cricket bats while growing up in Delhi. I had never really given a thought to who was making them or where they were being made. 

Stacks of bats made of willow

A willow tree

Kashmiri wazwan is the multicourse cuisine served in traditional Kashmiri weddings, and festivals. We decided to try as many of these dishes in the limited time that we had. It is safe to say that the wazwan is out of this world and the stuff that we get in the name of traditional Kashmiri food in restaurants in metros can only be described as the ‘Chinese’ food that you get in India. We started with Gushtaba and Roganjosh - the two most famous ones- the names that we keep hearing everywhere and we jumped right on to them the very first night. Gushtaba is lamb meat, beaten down on a stone to a paste and then rolled into balls of solid dense meat in a yoghurt based white gravy. Roganjosh is chunks of lamb meat in red gravy. The red colour is not from tomatoes but a flower called mawal. Each bite was a taste of heaven, each morsel was soaked in so much of flavour that we hardly spoke a word while eating, only breaking the silence with sighs and moans of satisfaction!

Goshtaba and Roganjosh

We have all seen pictures of white Kashmir during winters and colourful beds of flowers in summers and spring. The Nehru Garden houses the world’s largest bed of tulips which flowers for a short period of fifteen days in April. But Kashmir during autumn is a different world. In local language, they call the season of autumn ‘harud’. There is a natural filter of light fog sieved by rays of a much mellowed, young, winter Sun. The poplar trees that line the roads look like paint brushes, tall and bare, with a few yellow leaves remaining at their tips. They almost give a moorish, mystical appearance making it very difficult to take one’s eyes off them. Those that still have some of their leaves look as if  they have been dipped in different shades of yellow paint. Poplar trees are used to make plywood here. We visited the Betaab valley, not for seeing the cottage that was filmed in the movie Betaab which also gave this valley its name, but for the yellow trees, embracing the valley in a haunting golden garb before the winter strips them to  their cold, naked and skeletal basics. 

Betaab valley

Poplar trees

It was all Yellow

On our second night, we ordered (read devoured) Tabakmaaz and Rista. Tabakmaaz is tender lamb ribs roasted in ghee and served as an appetizer. You take a bite of the crispy coating of fat+skin and then get completely lost in the juicy soft meat that melts in your mouth. Coming to Rista, I might just have labelled that as my favourite had it not been for the fact that every dish here was equally delicious. It is in the most layman sense, gushtaba in red gravy. We also learnt that the wazwan dishes are best enjoyed with rice. The gravy is light and liquid and the flavours come out best when consumed with rice rather than roti/naan. Despite the rich exterior, none of these dishes are hot or spicy. In this trip we were lucky to meet two people named Fayaz, one our driver and one a staff at our hotel restaurant. They were both soft spoken, extremely knowledgeable, feeding us with both geographic and culinary information. Rice is the staple food of the locals and as our driver spoke with utmost sincerity, ‘We may consume ten rotis, but we are never done till we get bhaat’. 

Tabakmaaz

Yeh Rista kya kehlata hai?

As we reached the higher altitude on our way to Gulmarg, the flora changed. Now we were surrounded by dense lush forests of the majestic deodars and pines. Deodar is used to build the shikaras, so iconic of Kashmir. Pine wood is typically used by the upper strata for window and door frames. The foliage was still green, and the sun shone brightly through the sharp needle-like leaves, making them almost shimmer. We also witnessed these through the glass panes of our cable car at Gulmarg. For those of you who are yet to visit, Gulmarg has a cable car that takes you to two phases. In winters, phase one has enough snow for those who do not wish to travel higher. We went up to phase two to the Apharwat peak of the Kongdoori mountain that is approximately 14000 feet high up into the clouds. Interestingly, this cable car in India is called the Gulmarg Gondola and built by the French! The ride is romantic like in a Venetian gondola if you edit out the portions where it stops without a warning and remains suspended in mid-air swinging like a pendulum! On our way down of course we could not see any of the trees because we were surrounded on all sides by fluffy clouds, mist and snow fall. 

Deodar and pine

Gulmarg Gondola

Gulmarg

One night we went to a very nice restaurant on Dal Lake, not a touristy but mainly filled with the locals with their families. Here we had the Waza Sheekh, a million times better version of what we call the sheekh kabab, and Daniwal korma. Made with youghurt, spices, dhaniya and butter, Daniwal korma is obnoxiously delightful. We let go of all our table manners and furiously lapped it up with our fingers. 

Waza sheekh and daniwal korma

Walnut, the brainy superfood is again something that we have all received as gifts from anybody who has visited Kashmir. Walnut wood carved jewellery boxes, shikara show pieces, chessboards, and furnitures are sold in shops in all the tourist attractions. We visited some of these stores and it takes every ounce of effort to give into temptation especially when the shopkeepers are delicately persuasive. In one of the shops, there were several carved wooden animals, some small, some very big but all made with utmost finesse and skill. The shopkeeper informed us that earlier there were many people doing the carvings on walnut wood, but now his uncle was the only one carving animal figures and furnitures from walnut wood in his village. “Yeh shikara aur boxes toh aapko har jagah mil jayenge, par yeh carvings aur kahin nahi milegi.” At the end of our trip, once we had visited multiple shops, we realized he was right. I am glad for the magic, walnut jewellery box I picked up there had a very interesting and secret locking system. Though back home, much to my chagrin, my father managed to open it at one go thereby proving the old Hindi adage ‘rishtey mein toh hum tumhare baap lagte hain’ to be true!’

Walnut wood carved box

Tujj is the traditional kabab here. With FOMO of the unchecked wazwan looming large, on our last day, we managed to sneak in some tujj. Our driver took us to a very traditional place in Srinagar. “The roads get chock-a-blocked at night with so many people coming here,” he said. We selected lamb tujj, zafrani chicken and malai chicken tikka while the young chef took the skewers and set up the charcoal barbeque. Soon we were sitting inside a tiny eating joint on stools scooping out chunks of soft juicy kababs straight off the skewer with paper thin roti and six different types of dips! *Yummy with a satiated sigh*

Kabab-e-Kashmir

The Art and the Artist

In October the apple orchards are at their liveliest, but they remain till mid-November and we were fortunate to visit these orchards. Bright red orbs dangled teasingly from the branches as we walked through the orchard with leaves crunching under our trespassing soles. The fresh apple juice there was crisp and refreshing, much like the autumn air. They also make apple pickles, golden apple, and apple and walnut jams and I dare you to not end up with at least one of those jars after tasting them!

Newton-ish feels

Continuing with our wazwan quest, we finished our trip with the last dinner of Waza Kokur and Bhuna Gosht. The waza kokur was a chicken gravy that was probably the least fancy of the dishes we tried but turned out to be an 11/10 in taste. Bhuna Gosht lived up to its fame. The gravy is thicker with more onions and cinnamon than the rest of the dishes. I have decided, on principle, not to try any Kashmiri cuisine outside of Kashmir and will therefore have to return to the Valley to complete the remaining dishes of the wazwan.

Waza Kokur and Bhuna Gosht

What do you think I left for the last? Chinar, chinar, chinar. The majestic, the magical and the magnificent. You have heard about it in songs, confused it with maple, read about it in stories but nothing comes close to actually seeing a Chinar in Harud. Chinar was brought to India from Persia by the Mughals. Its name has its origin in Persian which literally translates to ‘what a fire’ and that is what the Chinar is in all its glory in the season of autumn. The ornate leaves are anywhere between glimmering gold, alarming amber to burning red. They line the roads, crown the Mughal Gardens, and illuminate the Dal Lake. The Char Chinar was planted by Jahangir to ensure that at any time of the day or any day of the year, there was always shade under the four chinar trees. It takes hundreds of years for the chinars to reach their full height. At Nishat Bagh we saw the sky on fire as the rows of chinars lifted their mighty arms and heads proudly above all the other flowers and trees there. Chinar trees provide shade during the summers but during winters, the leaves that have fallen on the ground are collected and burnt in kangris to provide warmth. No matter how many photographs I took, with iPhone or with DSLR, normal, portrait, increased exposure, reduced ISO, videos, panorama, wide lens, zoom lens, ‘Instagram hacks you did not know about’, I still could not capture its beauty  to take back with me. I picked up a large leaf that had fallen and lay peacefully in the rain at Chashme Shahi but when I was packing my bags, I realized that there was no way that I could carry it back preserved like how I had found it. It already looked old, sad and crumpled, like its time had come. But that was not how I had found it, even though it had fallen off a branch, it was red with blotches of yellow and orange, alive, marching towards death with a straight back and chin up. 

But that is Kashmir, beautiful and at peace with itself. 

On fire

Chinar ka patta

Harud

Chinar trees in Nishat Bagh

MS