Naved Nasir – Food for Thought
Picture this. You are somewhere in early 20th century Bombay, and your stomach is growling with hunger. The smells of sweet buns, classic berry pulao, chicken dhansak and caramel custard become as overpowering as the midday heat, so you decide to trace the aroma, which leads you to a side street Irani café. As you walk in, huge glass mirrors hang on the walls, and politicians and philosophers alike sit on wooden tables with marble tops, clinking glass jars as they noisily converse over a plate of Osmania biscuits and chai. These cafés – beacons for both solitude and socialising – were a focal part of Bombay’s civic culture for hundreds of years and on almost every street corner. Yet, they are now nearing extinction; in the 1950s, there were 350 Irani cafés. Today, a mere 25 remain.
Back in the UK, two cousins tried to figure out how they could keep the magic of these cafés alive. Shamil and Kavi Thakrar hatched a plan to create a restaurant that was a loving homage to Irani cafés. But to do so, the cousins needed a chef who would not only formally oversee the kitchen but who could also curate a menu of Bombay comfort food with first-class drinks. In 2010, their idea came to fruition, the flagship Dishoom restaurant was unveiled, and the Indian chef Naved Nasir was chosen to take the helm.
“My friend who runs a recruitment agency rang me about a new restaurant group in London,” recalls Nasir. “I asked the name and when they said it was called “Dishoom” and I started laughing! Back in those days, lots of Indian restaurants were either called “Cinnamon” or “Tamarind”, but when I heard the word “Dishoom”, I thought these guys either know what they’re doing or they are just plain crazy!” (The word “Dishoom” is onomatopoeia for a sound effect used in an old Hindu film when a hero lands a convincing punch). Despite doubts over the name, Nasir decided to give the Thakrar cousins a chance. Over a decade since, there are now eight Dishoom cafés scattered across the UK, and Nasir now presides over a cadre of 300 chefs.
Nasirs’ own story began in Meerut, northern India. Both his parents were working professionals; his mother was a teacher, and his father was a doctor. Unsurprisingly, free time was a rarity in the Nasir household, and so Naved often found himself cooking for the family, especially Khichdi, which is a traditional dish of rice and lentils cooked together. Originally, Nasir planned to follow his father’s path to become a GP, but fate would deal with him differently. “I failed him,” Nasir bluntly admits, “I didn’t do very well on my medical exams and so instead, I followed a family friend to catering college in 2001.”
Nasir would obtain his formal training at New Delhi catering school before working at ITC, one of India’s premier luxury hotel chains. He worked in the Bukhara restaurant before moving to the Dum Pukht restaurant in the hotel groups’ Bombay outpost. In 2010, he took the plunge and moved to London to join the Thakars. “When I came to the UK, I felt that the true essence of Indian cuisine was missing,” says Nasir. “I didn’t want to do five-star cuisine, I wanted to cook food from the streets, and that’s how mine and the Thakars’ vision aligned.”
In the July of 2010, the Dishoom flagship opened in Covent Garden, London. Before they knew it, praiseworthy reviews started flooding in, and queues began to swell. Even today, the hype has yet to fizzle out, and you still have to book either months in advance or wait in a long queue to get a chance to eat at one of the Dishooms in London.
Since the chain’s inception, it has been the reception from London’s Indian diaspora that Chef Nasir has appreciated most. “They found a piece of home in Dishoom, and that was great to see,” he recalls. “I remember a boy who had our chai and a bite of our vada pav (batter-coated potato fritters) and started crying because it reminded him of home. Those really are the best kind of compliments any chef can receive.”
Ask anyone who has been to Dishoom, and one dish sticks in the memory: Nasir’s 24-hr lightly-spiced and creamy black daal. “It’s my favourite dish on the menu,” Nasir confesses, “it took me a long time to master that recipe as a budding chef. Dhal is considered to be a poor man’s food out in India, so it’s a very humble dish but one that commands huge respect.”
Other staple dishes you can find on Dishoom’s all-day menu include, okra fries, an Irani café classic of keema pau (spiced minced lamb and peas with a toasted homemade bun), gunpowder potatoes, paneer tikka, masala prawns and jackfruit biryani. Sweeter options include basmati kheer (silky caramelised basmati rice with vanilla-infused coconut milk, cardamom and cashews with layered blueberry compote) and a bowl of ice cream with cinnamon or Kashmiri chilli.
“We try and make every dish as if it was being made on the streets on Bombay,” Nasir says. “For example, with our chilli ice cream, we use the red chilli from Kashmir, which is fragrant but not that hot. Similarly, we do an Indian version of a traditional Eton mess where I add gulkand (rose petal jam) and strawberry. That’s how we change a regular dish into a Dishoom dish.”
For Nasir’s last ever supper, he picks “tandoori chicken” as a starter, followed by his “black daal with roti” for his main course. For dessert, he picks a “gulab jamun”, a milk-solid-based sweet. To drink, “a chai.”
When asking Nasir about whether Dishoom has plans to expand or whether he is tempted to co-author another bestselling cookbook, he instead opts to speak frankly about the struggles of lockdown. “It has been a hard 18 months,” he says, “this year is going to be all about rebuilding. I couldn’t look into the eyes of my team when the pandemic struck; they all had families, kids and mortgages – how could I tell them they didn’t have a job?”
“My focal mission as Executive Chef was to make sure we didn’t lose anyone,” he says, “so we found a way around that and started doing our meal kits and cooking meals for the NHS. By the end, we took on 60 more people, which was great. Innovation helped us survive and keep everyone afloat, but for now, we are just trying to bounce back.”
And bounce back, they no doubt will.
Naved Nasir’s recipe for Prawn Moilee
This is Naved’s special dish at Dishoom Covent Garden. It’s a light, fragrant and utterly delicious south-Indian-style curry, packed with juicy prawns and tempered with coconut milk. Although it looks impressive, it is actually very easy to make, so you can serve it either as a week-night supper or as an indulgent dinner. We serve it with “idiyappam”, the white, lacy noodle pancakes, also known as string hoppers. If you can’t get these, it goes just as well with steamed rice.
Ingredients
4 Servings
6 green chillies
55ml (about ¼ cup) vegetable oil
2 tsp. mustard seeds
30 fresh curry leaves
300g (2 cups) Spanish white onions, sliced (a little chunky is good)
15g (1 Tbsp.) garlic paste
15g (1 Tbsp.) ginger paste
2 tsp. fine sea salt
1 tsp. freshly ground black pepper
1¼ tsp. ground turmeric
25g (¼ cup) fresh root ginger, cut into matchsticks
400ml (about 2 cups) coconut milk
250ml (about 1 cup) coconut cream
24 large prawns
300g (about 1 ½ cups) medium tomatoes, cut into small bite-sized wedges
Lemon wedges, to serve
Method
Remove and discard the stalks from the chillies, then slice each one into 3 or 4 long strips. Set to one side.
Place a large saucepan over medium heat. Add 40ml of the oil, let it warm for a few seconds, then add the mustard seeds and 20 curry leaves. Let them crackle for a few seconds.
Add the onions and sauté lightly for 12–14 minutes, until soft but not coloured.
Add the garlic and ginger pastes, salt, black pepper and turmeric and sauté for 3 minutes, stirring regularly. Add the sliced chillies and ginger matchsticks and cook for 3 minutes.
Pour in the coconut milk and cream and simmer for 20 minutes, stirring occasionally.
While the curry is simmering, place a small frying pan over a medium-high heat and add the remaining 1 tbsp oil. Toss in the rest of the curry leaves and fry for 1 minute, until crisp. Drain on kitchen paper and set aside.
Add the prawns and tomatoes to the sauce and simmer gently for a further 5–6 minutes, until the prawns are cooked; do not overcook or they will be tough.
Serve scattered with the fried curry leaves, with lemon wedges on the side