On Navroze, food always takes centrestage

Restaurateur Kainaz Contractor’s memories of celebrating Parsi New Year have always revolved around time spent with family and her regular patrons

For the first time in eight years, I won’t be at Rustom’s, our Parsi restaurant in New Delhi, that recently shuttered. I will, instead, be celebrating with my family. I moved to the capital city close to a decade ago. In my previous avatar, I used to be a Food Editor with the BBC Good Food magazine, prior to which I worked with the Taj Group of Hotels as a restaurant manager. My background, both academically and professionally, has been mixed: I've dabbled in advertising after studying for my degree in commerce but my core interest always lied in food.

I am a very planned person, and I had a set idea of what I wanted to do once I touched 30. Post 30, the aim was to always open my own restaurant. But before that, I wanted to get a more holistic and well-rounded approach on the different aspects of hospitality. Which is why I did the stint with the Taj, and I learned a bit about the anthropology and the history of food through journalism as well as interacting with different chefs from varied backgrounds. My experience with food journalism gave me a good mix of cooking in our test kitchens and as well as writing about food and interviewing people in the space. I've always dabbled in different aspects related to food and it was meant to come together at a later stage.

While I have spent a lot of time in Mumbai, I have grown up all over India because my father was in the Navy. So while my upbringing was across different cities, Mumbai was where I spent most of my time. We travelled a lot because of these postings, and I was exposed to different cuisines at a very young age. That's how my interest in food also grew. My dad is a huge foodie, so a lot of my love for food comes from him as well. And, you know, in a Parsi family, the conversation always revolves around, “What’s for breakfast, what’s for lunch, what’s for dinner?” When you are eating breakfast, you're thinking about lunch. When you have lunch, you're thinking about dinner!

Feeding bhonu to North Indians

When we opened Rustom’s in New Delhi eight years ago, it was with a lot of trepidation. Would folks in New Delhi understand Parsi food? We opened with the intent to pay homage to home-cooked Parsi food. Not the food you found in Irani cafes or restaurants, but actual home-cooked Parsi food, which you otherwise would not find unless you were invited to someone’s house for a meal, or if you happen to go for a Parsi wedding, if you were lucky enough to be invited to one.

Even in Mumbai, despite the presence of so many Parsi eateries, it’s actually hard to find home-cooked Parsi fare. We wanted to move beyond the Bollywood stereotype of ‘all Parsis are mad,’ to actually represent the nuanced culture that we have. Parsis have a great appreciation for fine music, great architecture and design. We also wanted to promote all the finer things that are associated with Parsis through Rustom’s. It was an uphill task because it's not something that has been done in Mumbai either.

Interestingly enough, the first few years of Rustom’s was all about educating people about who the Parsis are. What is the food that we eat? What has influenced Parsi food, which is really a mix of Irani, Maharashtrian and Gujarati with a little bit of Goan thrown in. It's an amalgamation of different cultures and cuisines that had created us. The initial years were more about introducing people to the basics. Thereafter, we gained a wider appreciation and loyal following, which we only really understood after announcing the closure of Rustom’s. It’s as if we had become an institution of sorts, as well as more Delhiites started patronising us.

Unfortunately, we had to shutter Rustom’s when it was at its peak; we had managed to survive the COVID-19 lockdowns too. But in a way, it’s okay because we had a very good run. When we shut the restaurant, people were actually crying in the restaurant! I was also very taken aback by the response because we didn't realise how much Rustom’s had become a part of people's lives, whether it was, celebrating personal and professional milestones. It was also very heartwarming for us to witness this. In retrospect, we ought to have announced the closure a month before instead of just seven days prior to the closing.

Food and family traditions

The food we served at Rustom’s were 100 per cent heirloom recipes from my mother, aunt and grandmother. Before I started Rustom’s, I learned how to cook from my paternal aunt in Nagpur, who was taught by my grandmother. I learnt how to make masalas, how to choose the right cut of meat and the entire gamut of the basics of Parsi cuisine. While my food training is French, I needed to understand my native food, and how to get that balance right. There is this misconception that Parsi food is mostly non-vegetarian, but that isn’t true. There’s a strong Gujarati influence in our food. There are dishes that we prepare that are vegetarian–the long lost, forgotten dishes that I really wanted to learn. My aunt is a home cook with a flourishing business and in Nagpur, she has a great reputation. But I am the first person in my family to open a restaurant.

Celebrating Navroze

Whenever we were in Mumbai for Navroze, the entire jingbang used to gather together. It’s one of those festivals that I’ve always loved. All we would do is eat through the day. In the morning, we would set up the Navroze table with all the traditional elements. The table is a wonderful mix of elements like fresh fruit, sweet dahi, rice, sprouts, fresh wheatgrass and more. Afterwards, a visit to the fire temple was followed by an elaborate breakfast which included raavo or mithoo dahi and sev, eggs and if we were lucky, some delicious bheja too. Dry fruits, nuts would also make an appearance. The house would be full of fresh flowers, especially at the entrance, which is decorated with chalk [rangoli].

Lunch was a more intimate affair at home. At times, it was shared with the immediate family–a simpler meal of dhan dal and patiyo with fried fish, or a mutton pulao and dal. But it was in the evening when the entire clan got together. Ideally it would be spent at home or going to see a Parsi natak, replete with slapstick humour. At other times, we would have a family potluck or even a full-blown, sit-down catered Parsi meal. Every year, while we kind of changed it up, Navroze is really all about just getting together with your families, celebrating, eating and drinking. As a navy family, we were often away from cities that actually had a fire temple. At such times, we would pray at home, conducting the rituals and celebrating with our friends.

Changing responsibilities, new traditions

As a restaurateur I was bound to serve our patrons for Parsi New Year. For me, this will be the first year in a decade that I will not be in the kitchen or the floor. For the past decade or so, I’ve spent every Parsi New Year at Rustom’s and my memories are entangled and synonymous with that experience. Our New Year meals had become landmark biannual affairs [one in March and one in August], and we would serve a lavish spread, an unlimited feast on a banana leaf. We’ve had regular patrons who would have the meal twice a year. Rustom’s was also a great place for Parsis in New Delhi to get together. Now I plan to restart the meals but at Bhawan, our new restaurant at Gurgaon. After we opened Rustom’s, my world expanded to include the guests who patronised us. It also became about sharing my food with more people, so it’s heartbreaking to realise that we won’t be doing that today.

As told to Gauri Vij

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