Disclaimer right off the bat, this isn’t a family recipe or something that’s been handed down to me, though a dear friend surely had a hand in it — but the junglee maas is something I mostly learnt on my own — from my travel, from my interactions, and my own epicurean experiments. And this is probably why I love it a little more (insert Cheshire cat smile). I like the idea that I brought this recipe to the table, quite literally, so my kith and kin can savour it for years to come, and people will say, Anu used to make that, she learnt it in Jaipur.Â
I’ve been lucky to make a meal of this traditional Rajasthani delicacy many times, but I’ve never wanted to learn it as much as I did after my first bite on this one particular afternoon, lounging under a gorgeous, warm winter sun in Jaipur. I was with a friend on her terrace where she treated me to the most memorable Junglee maas (with ghee-laden rotis) — a family recipe her late mother passed on, and their Bihari cook now makes impeccably.
What caught the attention of my eager taste buds was its flavour — so simple yet robust, the meat so well done. Of the few ingredients it requires, the star of course, is the mathania chilly (eponymously named after the tiny Jodhpur village it comes from) — lots of them — slightly roasted and caramelized until they become one with the ghee and lamb. While most of us are familiar with the popular laal maas today, the junglee maas was traditionally made with khada masala (whole spices) after a hunt, considering they couldn’t grind spices in the forest to enjoy the game fresh. So in went the whole spices, all in one pot, cooked on low heat for a long time to allow them to blend in with juices of the meat until one was left with a rich, aromatic dish that pleased all senses judiciously. And because I can’t help but share this Rajasthani delight with you, here goes...
In a thick pot, start by adding big dollops of ghee. Toss in the bayleaf, cinnamon, and whole pepper, and when you begin to smell those beautiful flavours, add in the lamb. Keep stirring and cooking on low heat, with a lid on. Use little splashes of warm water if it sticks to the pot.Â
Take it off the fire once you see the meat falling-off-the-bone tender. Thin, ghee-laden rotis go best, because if you ask me, one can never have too much ghee!
The compliments pour in every time I decide to feed this to a happy guest, and I surely have my aforementioned friend to thank for that. Many aren’t so forthcoming in sharing their family recipes but only a few look at it as carrying their legacy forward and spreading the joy of a fine dish forever. Needless to say, I don’t order the Junglee maas at restaurants anymore — it just doesn’t cut it for me, and I hope you never have to too.
