i’m by myself at kanz biryani after a day of hard work (i work hard dammit). and dear god, does it smell SPICY in here! it’s the place that’s taken over ‘the space’ on roashanee magu. they don’t seem to care about the decor too much now, which may in fact be a good omen.

anyhow, i order the beef because i want to save their dum biriyani for later, to eat with fellow biriyani fanatic @shaari_.
the first impressions are extremely favourable. the biriyani arrives in minutes and is accompanied by the usual suspects (raita, rasam) plus kheer, that sweet indian dish with vermicelli and almonds and sweet milk, well, you know what i’m talking about.

but the real winner is the rasam. i’ve never had anything like it, it’s exploding with flavour, of a medley of spices and sourness, a full-flavoured experience. i mix it with my biriyani, which is fragrant and deliciously spiced with fennel and cumin and cinnamon. and together with the rasam, it’s a killer combo. i eat like a dog, then down my rasam in a few shots. my god. this is stellar stuff. i must have shaari’s thoughts.

so, on the saturday before election saturday, we find ourselves in the kanz again.

‘you want us to try their dumB biriyani huh?’ says shaari, grinning.

‘yes,’ i reply. man’s a real hoot.

‘why’s it called dum biriyani though?’ he asks.

‘let’s ask someone,’ i say. so they explain it to us: it’s basically a biriyani that’s been baked over a wood fire in a clay pot.

‘huh,’ says shaari. ‘i’m really ready for this. it should mean something that they named themselves kanz biriyani.’

‘oh,’ i say. ‘as opposed to…?’

‘kanz kahanbu?’ grins my lunch companion.

oh dear.

and soon, shaari too is taken with the swiftness of service. he arranges everything for the pic (first photo of this post). then, he inhales the rice.

‘mmm,’ he says. ‘it’s smelling goooood.’

i nod my agreement and we begin.

‘ah,’ says shaari. ‘this chicken is so tender.’

‘isn’t it just,’ i say. ‘it’s fucking phenomenal, man.’

‘yeah,’ says shaari, chewing thoughtfully. ‘you know, i think you might disagree but this is as good as maagiri.’

‘you think?’ i ask.

‘at the very LEAST.’

‘try it with the rasam, man.’ i tell him.

he pours over the little container into his rice and takes a bite. his eyes light up.

‘this is definitely next level,’ he says.

we polish off our meals, and ask the server for gulaab jaamun to close this excellent outing but it is not to be had.

‘well,’ sighs shaari. ‘let’s pay up.’

the bill is 190MVR for everything. it’s incredible and we would’ve parted with double that gladly. well. in theory anyway.

‘screw maagiri,’ says shaari. ‘THIS is where it’s at.’

so fellas, if you’re craving great biriyani next…