After the Fast – the Feast

Yesterday was Eid ul Fitr – the festival at the end of Ramadan and an occasion of much rejoicing. In Kashmir, India’s only majority Muslim state, feasting, dressing up and meeting up are the order of the day. It’s also one of the few times in the year when the police turn a blind eye to gambling! But for Kashmiri families like ours who are outposted in Delhi the Eid is bit subdued.

At the height of the ‘militancy’ there were lots of young single Kashmiri men in the Delhi and they used to come together for big parties at Eid. Now most are married and settled and we get just a trickle of visitors for tea and cakes. The saddest person in our house on this day is Asif, who works with us. He misses his family all the time I know, but especially today. Next year I hope he will spend the festival in his village.

But Asif’s Eid lunch was superb. Heavy fare with a light touch. Chicken with spinach, meat in yoghourt, cheese in tomato sauce, dum aloo (potato in curd) and spicy meatballs. My sole contribution a garlicky salad. After some spectacular culinary failures here, I stick to roasts, pasta, salads and English puddings. Can’t seem to master the grammar of Kashmiri spices. There are all sorts of rules, for example you must always add black cardamom to tomato to stop it tasting ‘fishy’.

Getting ready for this festival requires peculiarly flexible organisational skills. As the end of Ramadan approaches you cannot be sure exactly when the sliver of new moon will be seen and which day will be declared as the Eid. Last year we heard at 8pm that it was to be the next day. There was then a frenzy of shopping along with everyone else who’d got left behind – chickens, meat, cakes and biscuits, new clothes ­– all before the markets closed at 9.30 pm. Frantic but fun. Just imagine if that’s all the notice you got for Christmas! This year we were all prepared with a full fridge on the Friday to ensure full stomachs on Saturday, only to find the big day was Sunday!