Bread Bits and Biryani Love: My Pulao Memory

For the longest time, vegetable pulao was my biryani.

Not the dum-style, long-marinated kind — no. This one came packed in a white paper parcel, a little greasy at the corners, still warm from the tiffin center, with a soft aroma of ghee, masalas, and something unique — fried bread cubes. And this, believe it or not, was my first taste of biryani. And I loved every bite of it.

Like most of my food stories, this one too begins with my mother. She was a schoolteacher — now retired — and back then, my sister and I studied in the same school where she taught. We were quite the trio. It made life easier in many ways — school bags were shared, tiffin boxes were sneakily passed during breaks, and heading home or elsewhere after school was never a task.

But here’s the part that still pulls at my heart: Ahmad.

Ahmad wasn’t just anyone. He was our rickshaw uncle. An elderly man with kind eyes and a quiet strength, he picked us up from daycare during my toddler days and continued to drive us to and from school till I reached 7th or 8th grade. I never called him "uncle." Just "Ahmad." No clue how we found him or he found us — but he was always there. Through our family’s highs, lows, and everything in between.

I was the naughtiest of the lot — and Ahmad and I? We used to fight like siblings. Bicker, argue, pout — and then sit beside each other like nothing happened. He wasn’t just our ride — he was family. My dad even helped him financially once so he could shift from pedaling a cycle rickshaw to buying an auto. And then… just like that, one day, he was gone. Never saw him again.

But I think of him. I think of him a lot. And I hope, wherever he is, he’s happy. Safe. Loved.

One of my fondest memories with him? Saturday half-days. After school, Ahmad would take us to this simple veg hotel called Maruthi Vilas. We’d pack their special “veg biryani” — which was really more like a pulao — and head home. It became our tradition. On days when Amma had work outside, she’d pick up a parcel too — and that was lunch. Hot, comforting, perfect.

And the magic? Those fried bread cubes inside the pulao. Yes, bread. Crisp at first, but softened gently by the steam of the rice. It might sound ordinary, but it wasn’t. You couldn’t add them too early — they’d turn mushy. Too late — they wouldn’t soak up enough flavor. There was this perfect moment right after the rice was done, when you added them in, closed the lid again, and waited. That was the secret. And the taste? It still lingers on my tongue.

Years passed. The hotel stopped adding the bread. But whenever I’m home and happen to be in that area, I call Amma and tell her not to cook. I get three plates — one for her, one for Dad, and one for me. And a small portion set aside for my babai (Dad’s younger brother). It’s a ritual now.

And Amma? She makes the pulao at home too — hers is probably even yummier. It took me a while to master her version, but today, I can say with full pride — I’m a PRO. 

It’s funny how some food doesn’t just fill your stomach — it fills your life. With memories. With people. With a kind of comfort that words can’t quite explain.

Before starting this post, I never thought I'd write about Ahmad... but here I am, smiling through happy tears. And for a moment, you’re a child again, waiting in your school uniform, knowing that your pulao — your biryani — is on its way home.

Man, that man!! I was the closest to him — and he was somehow both responsible for making me go bald (yes, literally — right there on the roadside where they shave beards, my head was shaved 😶) and for helping me grow the most amazing hair later. 

Anyway... that story deserves its own post :)

Ingredients:

• 1 cup basmati rice (washed and soaked for 20 mins)

• 1 medium potato (cubed)

• 1 carrot (chopped)

• A handful of chopped beans

• ¼ cup green peas

• 1 large onion (sliced)

• 1 tbsp grated fresh ginger

• 1 tbsp grated garlic

• 2–3 green chillies (slit)

• A handful of fresh pudina (mint) leaves

• A handful of fresh coriander leaves

• 1 small stick cinnamon

• 2–3 cloves

• 2 cardamom pods

• 1 bay leaf (tej patta)

• ½ tsp shahi jeera (caraway seeds)

• ½ tsp jeera (cumin seeds)

• Salt to taste

• 1 tbsp ghee + 1 tbsp oil

• Fried bread cubes (optional, but highly recommended)

Instructions:

1. Heat ghee and oil together in a pressure cooker.

2. Add whole spices: cinnamon, cloves, cardamom, bay leaf, shahi jeera, and jeera. Let them sizzle until aromatic.

3. Add sliced onions, grated ginger, grated garlic, and slit green chillies. Sauté until onions are soft and slightly golden.

4. Add chopped pudina and coriander leaves. Sauté for a minute until fragrant.

5. Add all the vegetables — potatoes, carrots, beans, and peas. Cook for about 5 minutes, stirring occasionally.

6. Drain soaked rice and add it to the cooker. Mix gently so it doesn’t break.

7. Pour in 1.5 cups of water and add salt to taste. Mix everything well.

8. Close the lid with the whistle on. Cook on high flame for 1 whistle, then lower the flame and simmer for another 5–10 minutes.

9. Turn off the gas and let the pressure release naturally (about 15–20 mins).

10. Once opened, you can optionally mix in fried bread pieces. Cover again and let it rest for another 5–10 mins to let the flavors blend.

Srishti’s Secret Tip for the Perfect Plate:

The trick to elevating a humble veg pulao? Those fried bread pieces! But don’t just toss them in anytime — wait till your pulao is cooked, still hot, and then gently fold them in. Cover and let the pulao’s steam soften the bread just enough — so they’re tender but still hold shape. This is that nostalgic "Maruthi Vilas" magic I’ll never get over.

Srishti’s Healing Tip for the Perfect Plate:

Cooking connects you — not just to the ingredients, but to the people and places that once shaped your everyday. Next time you make this pulao, take a quiet moment to think of someone from your past who made you feel safe, seen, and silly — like my Ahmad. Gratitude can be healing too.

Why You’ll Love This:

• Easy, comforting one-pot meal

• Lightly spiced and aromatic — perfect for everyday

• Customizable with any veggies you have

• Pairs beautifully with a simple raita or pickle

• Every spoonful is a bite of home ❤️