For the real taste of kahwa

For Kashmiris scattered all over the globe, it carries the nip of a lost homeland. But for others like me who come across the real taste of it occasionally, this fragrant tea is a seed of solace.

Kahwa, also called “mogil chay”, a vino-coloured tea topped with almond parings, has helped Kashmiris beat the winter chill. Though I had it several times at my residence in the city, far from my homeland, it lacked that typical aroma that might be left in the lanes of long-lost Kashmir when made in a not-so-typical way.

My family, which is from Kashmir, first introduced me to its typical taste in the last vacations in Jammu. I relished it at the residence of my mum’s aunt. It was there that I wrapped my shawl around the piping glass, holding it traditionally as is done by the good-old ladies of Kashmir, and took a careful sip. It was there that I conned the prowess of making and serving this honeyed and zesty blend.

In gladder times, there was no home in Kashmir that did not have a samavar, a vessel made of copper or brass in which kahwa was brewed. Around the fire-container there is a space for water to boil and the tea leaves and other ingredients are mixed with water for a perfect blend. It is said a good kahwa cannot be made without samavar and can only be enjoyed in a khos (cup).

The tea is made in samavar by boiling green tea leaves with saffron strands, cinnamon bark, cardamom pods and occasionally Kashmiri roses to add a great aroma. Generally, it is served with sugar or honey, and crushed nuts, usually almonds or walnuts, but no milk is added.

Any time is considered kahwa time for a Kashmiri. Some Kashmiris have started drinking Lipton tea, though there was a time when only “mogil chay” was brewed. But given that the constricted flats of cities hardly allow for heavy and rotund accessories like samavars, kehwah is now brewed in ordinary tea pan.

My initial efforts were honed with the help of a few tips from my mom’s aunt and I am now an adept brewer in my own right. Back to my city, undeterred, I checked out with different restaurants and hotels here, but to no avail, as I could not find my favourite tea’s name on their menu cards. So, one fine day, I asked a close friend of mine, who brings spices and other condiments from Jammu to sell in the city, to bring some tea bags for me. She responded that she would include it in her list if I invite her for a hearty Kashmiri meal, including her favourite dum aloo and rogan josh. “Anything for the actual taste of kahwa,” I said.

I have fulfilled my promise and I now have bags of leaves and related spices. By the time you go through this, the samavar at my home would probably have been pulled out of its long hiding and my friends from the city will be on the verge of a new ecstasy.

(http://www.tribuneindia.com/2011/20110310/edit.htm#5) Published in the 'Middle' section of The Tribune, Chandigarh