I was a little boy when I was first introduced to seekh kabab on a trip to Hyderabad, India, at a kabab shop in the popular annual fair known locally as ‘Numaish’. But even today, I have not come across seekh kababs as good as the ones made by Anees Mian. In our neighbourhood in Bangalore, Anees Mian was a folk hero. He could not afford a shop, or even a cart. Every single day, before sundown, he would bring three items to his regular street corner - a well-used barbecue station, a small table where he kept his kabab mix (minced beef mixed with his secret recipe) and charcoal, and a work stool that had a drawer below where he sat, in which he kept the cash. And work there until 11pm.
The wafting aroma would draw in both area residents and passersby. My family was one of his most regular customers. The kababs were always the same size - eight circular bits, each the size of a one dirham coin, patted individually and pushed onto a metal skewer, then patted together again to give the typical kabab shape. In 1992, the price was Rs2 each. I remember the year because I was in grade five and my father had bought me a new bicycle (a Hero Ranger, if you should know) in which I cycled up to Anees Mian at least twice a week. The usual deal was: ‘Buy 10 kababs parcel’ for our family of five, and have an extra one while standing there by my bike.
My other favourite kabab joint was the legendary Fanoos in Richmond Town, which made delicious ‘seekh rolls’ - kabab wrapped in ‘rumali roti’. Helpfully, it was a stone’s throw from my school, Baldwin Boys. And at least once weekly, sometimes twice, we would walk the distance to gorge on the rolls. Though Fanoos was good (still is) it didn’t come close to Anees Mian, in my opinion.
In our neighbourhood in Bangalore, Anees Mian was a folk hero. He could not afford a shop, or even a cart. Every single day, before sundown, he would bring three items to his regular street corner - a well-used barbecue station, a small table where he kept his kabab mix (minced beef mixed with his secret recipe) and charcoal, and a work stool that had a drawer below where he sat, in which he kept the cash. And work there until 11pm.
From that day unto now, I have been a seekh kabab addict. Those days in India, as now, barbecue culture was not big. People didn’t go barbecuing as they do in the Middle East or America; seekh kababs were usually bought from eateries.
Years have rolled on, but my love affair with this simple delicacy continues. Over the years, I have travelled to about 30 countries, and have sampled kababs in almost all of them, if memory serves. None quite had the same zing as Anees Mian, though a nondescript joint in Baku, Azerbaijan, came close.
So, what is it about seekh kababs that I like so much? I cannot put a finger on it, but I think it is the juices in the spiced meat melting over coal that give it a unique taste.
Over the past 18 years in the UAE, I've made up for lost time and become reasonably good at barbecuing. I am on my fourth barbecue set, after the first three were used until they turned the darkest black. My regular fix is the Iraqi lamb kofta mix available at a well known supermarket. The taste is unreal. But, it wouldn't hold a candle to Anees Mian.
Here are three delicious seekh kabab recipes to try at home: Seekh Kabab Roll, Mutton Seekh Kabab, Seekh Kababs (without using a tandoor)
Share your food stories with us at food@gulfnews.com
