Beef Zeera Dopiaza – Beef Cumin Curry

Forgive the cliché, but old is gold. There’s nothing like a tried and tested recipe. And I mean on all fronts. The end product is incredible, and I’ll talk about it more in a minute, but what makes this Beef Cumin Curry unsinkable (unlike the late lamented Ms. Molly Brown, I might add), is that few people are likely to muck it up. Even a novice will produce something pretty decent.

I did. It was ages ago; my first time cooking entirely on my own, in a tiny, sparsely furnished apartment that my sons had just rented, in Montreal, Canada. We’d spent two hectic days settling into the place and none of us wanted another take out meal. Ever the optimist, I offered to cook a desi saalan, a curry, and their eyes lit up. My sons were brave boys, even then. In my defence, I have to reiterate that until I came to Canada, I had never cooked solo. All things considered, it wasn’t half bad.

Of course I goofed up in one crucial way: time. This seems to be my week for clichés so I may as well say it: patience is a virtue. And good cooks soon learn the importance of that specific virtue. That day in Montreal, I hurried. We often forget that a curry has to be curried. The point I’m making is to suggest that if you let yourself enjoy the process, and let this Beef Cumin Curry or Beef Zeera Dopiaza unfold, you won’t be disappointed. There are so many reasons why it’s worth it.

A fascinating fact is that the word, dopiaza, is not originally South Asian. It’s a word in Dari, a major language of Afghanistan, and it means, literally, two-onions. Do, pronounced like the English word, though, means two; and piaz, which rhymes with jazz, is onion. Do-piaza therefore means two-types-of-onions curry. Indeed, the way it is cooked, and I imagine has been for hundreds of years, is by frying onions to make the base sauce, and as a garnish. Also, perhaps using ground onion paste, as I do in my recipe below. I must credit my sister for doing the initial research on the word and its origins in her book, Khana Peena, which is a repository of information (I’ve borrowed much from her work!).

What I found out later, and what continues to enthral me, is how the dopiaza style of cooking became quintessentially South Asian. Ancient Indian chefs did not cook with onions. Records going back to nearly eight hundred years BCE tell us that an array of spices were used for cooking and medicinal purposes in South Asia– turmeric, cardamom, black pepper, cinnamon, mustard seed and ginger –but no onions. Not one mention.

So what happened, I wonder. We know that the Afghans, many of Turkish origin, rode through the incredibly majestic, yet often terrifyingly narrow Khyber Pass (I was blown away when I first saw it as a teenager) into northern Pakistan, around a thousand years ago. They must have been surprised when they sampled the local food – great flavours, but what, no onions, they must have thought. I’m not sure how we, South Asians, learned to cook with onions, but the next thing you know, it’s the sixteenth century and the great Mughal Emperor Akbar, a descendent of Genghis Khan, is ruling India. Akbar, who never learned to read and write, surrounded himself with extraordinary personalities, including — or so the story goes — a feisty, often comical character called Mullah Dopiaza.

There are a bunch of hilarious and often bizarre anecdotes about Mullah Dopiaza sparring with, and often getting the better of another courtier, Raja Birbal, much to the emperor’s amusement. Since their respective titles denoted different points on the religious-cultural spectrum in India, each side, Muslim and Hindu, holds up these debates with equal proportions of self-righteous glee to this day. The story goes on to say (and by all accounts, it is a story, delightful though it may be) that Mullah Dopiaza got his name because one day he accidentally added a load of onions to a saalan or curry, and while initially everyone including Raja Birbal laughed at his stupidity, they soon discovered how exquisitely delicious it was and the emperor loved the dish so much, he named him Mullah Dopiaza. And dopiaza became a hallmark of Mughal cuisine. 

I am sharing my Dhaka family version of a dopiaza with you this week. It is a blend of a recipe told to me by my paternal grandmother, Farhut Shahabuddin, subsequently tweaked by my mother, and her mother’s cook, Inta, who was my mentor for several decades. It has a generous base of onions, sliced and ground, but I don’t use any to garnish because it becomes too rich and I want this curry to fill you up, but in a healthy way. I’ve also used far less oil than my grandmother would approve of, again in the interests of our arteries! The blend of South Asian spices, with an original Afghan-Mughal idea, is a winner. The dish has a thick, almost creamy sauce, with tender meat pieces that melt in your mouth. I love bone-in meat because it allows me to linger, feeling the crunch of a soft bone now and again, while lapping up the mix with rice, naan, chappati or pita.

I also include an option of what old Dhaka cooks call phet (rhymes with date), which means using a blend of two diverse oils: ghee and mustard oil. The latter has to be heated, smoked and cooled to eliminate its rather pungent odour which, of course, then proceeds to penetrate every nook and cranny of your (Canadian) kitchen so that when you leave the house the next morning, everyone knows exactly what you had for dinner the night before! Adding ghee to the tangy mustard oil gives the sauce an irresistible touch. But don’t worry if you only have regular cooking oil as it will be just fine. I used my usual Canola oil when I made it this week. 

Dopiaza, like many similar traditional curries, is perfect for serving at dinner parties because it can be made the day before. It reheats well and may be served with a vegetable bhaaji, kachumbar or salad, any kind of daal or lentils (recipes to come), and rice or flat breads.

Likely questions:

1. How long will it take? Active cooking: 1 hour. Simmer time: Depends on your cut of meat. If you use sirloin steak, like my older son in Vancouver does often, 1½ hours, or less. Regular bone-in beef, like I do: 2 hours tops. I haven’t tried it myself but in an Instant Pot it would be 20 minutes; do let me know if you try it!
2. Can you make dopiaza with other proteins? Yes, with chicken, lamb, goat and fish.
3. How much oil should I use? Tradition calls for ¾ – 1 cup oil in about 2 ½ pounds or 1 kg meat. I’ve edited the recipe for contemporary tastes, so please use your andaaz!
4. Do you have to use a mix of two oils? No. A regular cooking oil is just as good.
5. Do you have to use all the spices? Yes, preferably, except for chilies of course (see 5 below). If you don’t have cumin, my friend suggests use whole and ground coriander. I haven’t tried it yet. Let me know if it works!
6. How chili hot is this recipe? It is for a medium hot curry. For less heat: when you season the oil, break and de-seed the chilies as the seeds carry the heat; use one instead of two chilies; or none. Use paprika instead of chili powder –but paprika is needed, without it this dish won’t be the same!

Photo Credit

All Photos by: Almas Zakiuddin SOME RIGHTS RESERVED