Bheja Fry Mumbai

[Elisabetta Buendia]

Jacob Jan Boerma used to lick pans while working as a dishwasher at a one-starred Michelin restaurant in the Netherlands. "I was 16 and just fascinated with the idea of how different flavours come together," laughs Boerma. "That was, in a way, my introduction to how wholesome food can be."

Today, at the age of 52, the Dutch chef leads The White Room in Amsterdam and Fine Fleur in Antwerp, both of which earned Michelin stars within months of opening. His first restaurant, De Leest, in Vaassen, earned three Michelin stars.

Boerma was in India last week as part of the latest edition of "Rendezvous by The Chambers: The Culinary Chronicles", a food pop-up initiative by the Taj hotel. At Taj Mahal Palace, Mumbai, and Taj Mahal, New Delhi, he offered a set vegetarian and non-vegetarian menu to patrons that combined European and Indian flavours, including Crispy Shrimp (Indian spiced couscous, marinated watermelon, sakura and dill jus), Stuffed Zucchini Flower (stuffed with sweet potato, lentils, spices, saffron jus and a fresh salad of red & yellow peppers), Lamb Loin Miso (cumin, yam, Indian lamb jus and smoked oyster mushroom), and Lemon and Yuzu Curd (raspberries, papaya, Greek yoghurt sorbet, mint, and crispy meringue).

We get a lot of Indian spices in Europe but the hotness, the taste is so different because of the temperature. This is my first time in India so it's all very new to me in many ways. Like our European utensils are so different; the same company makes a different oven in my country and a different one here. In our restaurants, some 70% food is non-vegetarian; we have menus of 24 courses. Here, it's nothing like that, so I had to work very differently and learn from the chefs in the kitchen. For example, in Europe we use carrots a lot, but here I instead used yams. I have never used yams in the kitchen before.

I had bheja fry, masala lassi and roti (in Mumbai). It was incredible; and raw onions! I couldn't believe that such flavours could come together so beautifully. It's really inspired me to try something new in my European kitchen.

When I was young, my parents asked me start working to learn what hard work is. So, at 16, I was a dishwasher in a kitchen. When the pans came, I used to lick them. That's when I realised that I should be a chef. Plus, growing up, my parents used to eat at several famous restaurants, so that was another early exposure. One day, I came home and told them that I want to be a chef. They laughed and called me stupid. 'You won't earn anything,' they said. But they forgot one thing: this incredible business brings people each other. No matter which part of the world you are in, your first date, wedding--all the big events of life include food.

People u go to office and do almost the same thing for years. It's almost the same in cooking, but the work is always different, because of nature. In winters, for example, we don't have strawberries in Europe, so we change our menu completely. In summers, we don't get winter vegetables, so we again change. It's the same work, but it's never the same.

There is half a chance that everyone who lives in Mumbai would have visited this place in the heart of Colaba, South Mumbai, at least once with friends, and devoured a mutton fry masala or a bheja fry with naan . After all, not too many restaurants in the city are 100 years old.

Syed Mohammed Merab, an Irani businessman, started Olympia in 1918 and sold 50% of his stakes to his then employees, Abdul Rahim Suleiman, Abdul Rahim Choudhary and Wali Mohammed in 1954, when he decided to go back to Iran. The trio continued to run the place till their sons, Idris Choudhary and Ilyas Saji, entered the business in the late 80s and 90s.

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Remember Vinay Pathak and Rajat Kapoor's movie Bheja Fry released in 2007? Bheja Fry is a common slang used in parts of Mumbai and Andhra Pradesh, often to describe a person or a situation who is so irritating or perplexing that he /it almost fries your brains, hence the term 'bheja (brains) fry'. Many of you may have used the phrase in your day to day conversations too. But did you know the phrase is derived from a popular dish which actually uses brains of goat, sheep or lamb cooked in a spicy masala? A famous street food in Hyderabad and Mumbai, the dish is quite literally mind blowing.

While it is a popular dish in several households across the sub-continent, the credit of Bheja Fry goes to the Muslim inhabitants of medieval India. According to A Historical Dictionary of Indian Food by Food Historian K.T. Acharya, "Islam enjoins that no food be wasted, even left overs being saved and eaten", which basically means that every part of the animal is worthy of consuming, be it the tender leg cut, or its brain.

Bheja fry is also known as Maghaz or Magaj, which also means brain. The offal dish is a significant part of Indian Muslim, Bangladeshi and Pakistani cuisine(where it is called Maghaz Bhuna). The brain of a goat or sheep is fried, and cooked in a gravy. Next time when you are in Hyderabad, do try and explore beyond the heavenly Hyderabadi Biryani, Saalan and Haleem, and try their signature Maghaz Masala, a deep-fried goat brain dish sauted in hot spices. To make the gravy richer, almonds and pistachios are often added in the preparation. The 'fried brains' are slightly spongy in texture, which is well complemented by the hot spices.

Celebrity Chef Akshay Nayyar, Co-Owner of Kopper Kadai, Delhi and Bangalore says, "Bheja Fry typically translates into pan-fried brain cooked with Indian spices. It is primarily a famous street food originating from Hyderabad where it is also eaten with Khameeri Roti or a pao. It is a star dish on the streets of Mumbai where a more spicy Konkani version is served. If you travel up north then a more earthy-style Tawa Maghaz recipe is available where they use more of coriander, chilli paste and garam masala, cooked with grated egg. I have also heard locals say that apart from being a delicious treat, it is good for your nervous system, eyes and brain function."

In Hyderabad, India, brain fry isn't just the resulting sensation from surrounding commotion and summer heat. Hole-in-the-wall eateries and street vendors fry goat, sheep, or cow brain, then smother it in spicy sauce and onions. Patrons scoop up the fiery gravy and rich, slightly spongy brain with a helping of bread, often opting for naan or tandoori roti.

Other regions are also home to versions of this heavy, savory dish, which goes by bheja fry or maghaz. Mumbai is known for an extra-spicy rendition, and parts of northern India add grated egg and coriander seeds to a medley of chili paste and spices. Some cooks sell the brain deep-fried and dry-spiced, while others opt to serve it pan-fried and drowning in curry.

On a recent trip to visit family in India, we flew through Mumbai. We extended our layover there so we'd have a chance to see a little bit of the city, and so we could eat at Bademiya. Bademiya is a legendary kebab stand behind the Taj Hotel, near the Gateway of India. What began as a young man selling kebabs from a cart in 1946 has grown into one of the most recognizable names in Mumbai's vast and varied culinary scene.

"Bademiya" translates to something like "elder brother," a name that customers bestowed on Mohammad Yaseen when he began selling his kebabs in a nearly desolate alley over 70 years ago (see the history of the restaurant here). At that location now, we found one meat stand, one vegetarian stand, a seating area, and a maze of bustling customers and food runners.

And Bademiya is definitely hoppin', even relatively early in the evening. It's so well-known that one can merely tell the cab driver "bademiya," and he will nod with understanding (and probably a little jealousy). The restaurant is generally considered a late-night go-to, but even at around 8:00 PM, we had to bring our patience with us, along with an appetite. As we left, we saw folks eating dinner on the hoods of their cars in the alley. They had spread out paper and gathered around their food for a Mumbai-style picnic.

We had to wait about ten to fifteen minutes for a table across the street. Simple metal tables and plastic chairs have been set up in an otherwise empty building, and a runner took our order and retrieved our food for us. We shared our table with another couple, with whom we shared nothing else but smiles over our food.

The food is the star here, so there are literally no other frills. At all. And they aren't missed a bit. The tables have two sauces and some well-worn menus. There will be no flatware, so get ready to use the rumali roti -- soft, thin, warm bread -- to scoop some culinary gold directly into your food hole. Dhrubo ordered a Thums Up, the Indian answer to Coke, and was instantly at one with the universe.

That dough cloud below is the roti. It is delicately settled on the plate like a little carb cloud of happiness. We tore off small amounts and used it to pick up mutton bheja fry, chicken kebab, and mutton bhuna (in order from the roti to the foreground). The mutton bheja fry is goat brain, which was gamey with iron undertones. The chicken had a beautiful heavy smokiness to it, and was covered in a delicious and cooling green chutney. The mutton bhuna, a curry prepared in such a way as to create a very thick sauce, was my favorite. It was not greasy, and it simply exploded with flavor. It also had that most lovely effect of spices: the accumulating heat that taunts and punishes at the same time. More roti was ordered and victory was mine.

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