And then there were 9 handis For the surviving heirs of the 12-handi style of cooking, letting go of some traditions is sometimes the only way to save others,

And then there were 9 handis

For the surviving heirs of the 12-handi style of cooking, letting go of some traditions is sometimes the only way to save others,

As a boy, Naeem Surti was his grandfather’s pet and thus accorded a special privilege. Every evening, his grandfather, Hafiz Ismail Surti, would put on his special sherwani, take young Naeem’s hand and the two would head to the family’s restaurant, Surti 12 Handi in Mumbai’s Bohri Mohallah. There, Naeem would sit next to his dada and watch him ladle out food to the hungry crowd waiting to eat Surti 12 Handi’s special bara handi, a dish made by mixing food from 12 handis. The entire lane would be filled with the aromas of different meats bubbling in the 12 handis in front of the shop, each of which were filled with meat — pichhota (the tail of an ox is used as a cow’s tail is too small), topa (hump), bada paya (trotters of cow and ox), chhota paya (trotters of goat and sheep) and sukha (beef with gravy). “People would stand in line so that Dada could serve them bhel (the bara handi mixture),” reminisces Naeem, 39, who is continuing his grandfather’s legacy. The bhel included some of the meat and gravies taken from each of the handis and mixed together in one plate. “The combination of those differently spiced gravies and meat would have people licking their hands in delight,” says Naeem. In Hafiz Ismail’s time, the quantities prepared were so large, the gravies served with each meat would be cooked in separate handis. Two handis were reserved for dal and tari (a type of oil mixed with red chilli powder). The meat and gravy was accompanied by freshly made khamiri roti (made with wheat flour and maida), lamba pav (a triangular naan) or loaves of bread. Ramzan would see an even bigger crowd than normal and barricades would have to be put up. Decades later, Naeem’s challenges are different — decreasing customers, changing palates, the danger of redevelopment and the loss of a few handis. The number game Surti 12 Handi was one of the first to introduce the bara handi style of cooking to Mumbai. It’s a style that Naeem still follows, though he’s been forced to reduce the number of handis; three of them had to make way for the “more necessary fridge”. He makes the masalas from 22 spices (used in different variations) for each of the dishes. The 12 handis are filled with meat and gravy and cooked together in a bhatti (a box-shaped oven). The upper part of the bhatti has cylindrical holes, in which covered handis are placed to cook for 10 to 12 hours. Slow cooking brings out the flavours of the meat and allows its natural juices to combine with the spices. These days, reduced demand has forced Naeem to use only nine handis. “People do not like mixing their meats anymore and prefer ordering individual dishes,” says Naeem with a rueful smile. The handis for nalli (bone marrow), dal and tari have been discarded and these are now cooked separately. Nalli is added to all the dishes for an added layer of taste, dal is “served like ghee on top of the chhota paya” and tari is the final garnish on all the dishes. Surti 12 Handi’s food has an artery-clogging layer of ghee and fat floating on top, but the delicately-spiced meat falls off the bone and the gravy is deliciously spicy. According to Shahid Rafi, singer Mohammed Rafi’s son and a regular at Surti 12 Handi, “The best part of the meal is that although the food is heavy, it digests easily.” Surti 12 Handi still makes pichhota, bada paya, chhota paya, nalli and sukha, but in lesser quantities. During Ramzan, nalli nihari (beef bone marrow in milky gravy), which is delicious when combined with pichhota or topa, is added to the menu. Each dish is cooked in two batches in two separate handis, one for breakfast and one for dinner. Naeem says meat cooked in larger quantities had a distinctive flavour of its own, but he’s made his own modifications to the recipes. For example, his gravies are thicker than the earlier soup-like mixture. In the beginning The Surtis had two family eating joints, one in Bohri Mohallah and the other in Crawford Market but the first, Surti 12 Handi, was Naeem’s grandfather’s pride. “He was gifted the restaurant as reward for becoming a hafiz (the title bestowed on someone who has memorised the entire Quran),” says Naeem. There is a touch of pride in Naeem’s voice when he talks about his dada.” He introduced bara handi cooking to the city,” he says. Naeem’s fight to keep his grandfather’s memory intact will take a new turn later this year when he opens a new branch of the shop in Jogeshwari. “There I am going to make sure I serve all the bara handis,” Naeem promises.