In the gastronomic universe, Avadhi food is perhaps no longer deemed fashionable enough. For one, it is thought of as impossibly ?heavy? by many diners, counting each calorie they tuck away. And that it is one of the more exposed cuisines in the restaurant world means it is perhaps not even considered exotic enough any more; not at par, at any rate, with foie gras-stuffed galauti kebabs, which is a shame, really. It takes just one superb meal comprising some fragrant Lucknavi biryani, seekh kebabs (more than galautis or kakoris, both galawat ke kebab, where the meat is tenderised so that there is no need to chew it any longer, it is a good seekh kebab that is such a rarity today), one of the intricate and rich qormas and perhaps a musallam (where whole chicken or fish is stuffed with a variety of ingredients and served as such) to convince you of the greatness of Avadhi Muslim cooking.

Though the erstwhile Avadh has several distinctive regions and communities whose cuisines are equally interesting?if not yet in the commercial domain?it is really the cooking of the Muslim elite of Lucknow and nearby villages that go under the term ?Avadhi? food as we recognise it today. And indeed there can be no finer cuisine than the many fabulous dishes that have been concocted by traditional cooks for various nawabs. A distinguishing feature of the cuisine is its finesse. The best of ingredients and cuts of meats were chosen and then cooked with a subtle blend of spices. Unlike the modern cooking philosophy which says that each ingredient that goes into any dish must be highlighted and its taste or texture discernable, Avadhi cooks, who really worked as master craftsmen or artistes in the kitchen often took pride in their art. The spices or other ingredients would be combined and cooked in such a way that it would be impossible to determine what went into the dish, but the result would be so wonderful as to truly wow the diner. A good example of such cooking are dishes such as lehsun ki kheer, where garlic is indeed used instead of perhaps almond slices with thickened milk and rabri to give you a wonderful dessert.

Of course, it is not really desserts but the qormas, kebabs and above all biryani that fans of the cuisine rave about. Having grown up in Lucknow, I took many of these treats for granted. Birthdays, anniversaries and meals with outstation guests were incomplete without some of these bazaar-bought dishes and none of us thought that we were having anything particularly elusive when we polished off a plate of biryani from a small shop operating out of a garage near the Gymkhana or indeed kali mirch ka murgh from one of the many shops outside the railway station. It?s been a decade and a half since I bid adieu to the city and I have not had any of those wonderful flavours again. Perhaps, they are destined to remain, as some of the best dishes no doubt are, in one?s memory.

Last week, however, as I sampled some of Mohammed Ilyas?s Avadhi cooking at Marut Sikka?s restaurant, Kainoosh, in Delhi, Lucknow came closer home than ever before. Ilyas belongs to an illustrious family of cooks and can trace back seven generations engaged in gourmet pursuits. His forefathers were butchers to the nawabs and his father, who started cooking for many of the famous families from the region, was the elder brother of India?s best-known Avadhi chef and ITC star Imtiaz Quereshi. As the cuisine has been adopted by hotels and restaurants, members of this most famous clan of cooks from Lucknow have also spread far and wide, with the Quereshi surname dominating many an Indian kitchen in hotels across board.

Having learnt how to cook from his father, Ilyas today freelances with Marut and has travelled abroad extensively presenting his fine cuisine. The meal that I sampled from his repertoire included a superb biryani, a speciality qorma (it was called the Niyasi qorma after his father and now has been dubbed the Ilyasi qorma), mahi mussalam, tar qorma (tar being the thick layer of fat on top of the curry), nalli gosht, made from the bonier bits, and other such dishes which you would not ordinarily find on posh menus at all.

Even more delicious are the morsels that Ilyas?known to talk less, cook more?feeds you about the ?old days? when whole rabbits or quails would be stuffed with pigeon eggs, a whole lot of dried fruits and chicken mince to render them into wedding or other specialities. Of how the string of tar in the qorma had to be so thick that it would not just thread its way up from the cup to the mouth as the diner dipped his bread into the curry and chewed thoughtfully but also fall back into the cup in one unbroken performance. And of how any shahi tukda would be ?royal? enough only when first fried in oil, cooked in sugar and ghee and then topped with rabdi. Obviously, no one bothered about calories in those days.

But any great cuisine has to modify?judiciously?with changing times or perish. And Ilyas has been doing just that with his Avadhi repertoire. Instead of 10 measures of ghee to go into tar qorma in the traditional recipe, he puts in just two. He lets people enjoy some fruit (pineapple) subtly put into the shahi tukda and he serves much less red meat than his forefathers would have. Amongst one of his best dishes that I sampled were the murgh ki chaap (chicken chops), a dish typically done with mutton.

But while tweaking old recipes may be necessary, it is best done by someone with a grounding in tradition. Coming from a family of butchers, Ilyas takes special care of his raw material?which parts, what cuts to choose from the tenderest animal. But above all, his understanding of spices, a must for any Indian cook, seems exemplary. When I ask him about the ?secret masalas? notoriously put into the curries and kebabs by many of the old school chefs, he scoffs. ?There are no secret masalas,? he says forcefully. The only question is how judiciously the chef blends in a m?lange of spices. If you add even a bit more of the ?meetha itr? (cooking fragrance) in the dish, you will be unable to eat it, he gives an example. And that dexterity really comes from a firm understanding of basics. This is old-school cooking adapted to a newer audience and that really is the way forward for so many of our regional and heritage cuisines.

The writer is a food critic