“In many royal Indian homes,” says chef Naved Nasir, of Dubai-based restaurant Khadak, “the daughters weren’t allowed into the kitchens. Only daughters-in-law were handed down precious recipes generation after generation.” This was so the women could not divulge the secrets of their maternal home in their married one.

Rani Kulsum Begum, the niece of Salar Jung III of Hyderabad, changed that tradition. While she did not learn the alchemical secrets of spice mixtures that wafted in her mum’s kitchens, when she married Kunwar Raja of Mehmoodabad, in Uttar Pradesh, and began to learn how to cook, she found it difficult to digest that the flavours of well-loved dishes were so different from the ones she had tasted back home. Distressed, she wrote to her grandmother, telling her of her homesickness for the food she had grown up with. And like most doting grandmothers, hers sent back letters with basic recipes. Media reports say it took her about six months to master the staples, but once she did, she found her purpose — to be the repository of decades-old formulas and to share the outcome of her cooking experiments.

This mission has taken her across collaborations and pop-ups where she has shared her love of food — and her mastery of flavours — with others. In Dubai, it has resulted in her week-long collab with Khadak and chef Naved Nasir. During this partnership, which is on until Sep 21, she has curated a seven-course meal (priced at Dh185) brimming with all the subtlety that comes from knowing the measure of an ingredient by the weight of it in your hand; the moment of perfect charring from seeing something sizzling atop a stove, and the sweetness of a dish from nothing but a sniff.

The outcome is a familiar bouquet of taste and texture honed by skill and served with expertise. Khadak, which opened its doors to the public in November last year, has a menu of deliciousness that spans little-known but extremely loved Hyderabadi heirlooms like patthar ka gosht, marinated and slow-cooked mutton, and moong daal gosht, mutton made with green moong lentils. It serves Indian heritage recipes — using some as inspiration, and others as models for replication. The concept echoes Rani Kulsum Begum’s own designs, making it the perfect spot to serve a feast with these flavours. Available in vegetarian and non-vegetarian iterations, the limited-edition meal begins with a gentle soup, crafted to tickle your appetite. For the omnivores, there’s gosht ka marag with chaar koni roti — a rich mutton broth with spices and nuts. Or tamatar ka shorba with namak pare (tomato soup with parmesan crisps).

The second thing that is served is the kebab course.  Drawing from a long list of possibilities — think shami kebab, tunday kebab, galawati kebab— the chefs settled on mutton shikampur kebab, made with hung yoghurt and served over small puffs of bread known as roomali, or like a handkerchief (because of how thin it is). The consistency is almost like pâté, melting on your tongue with each bite. For the vegetarians there’s anari doodia, or pan-fried paneer parcels with a potato filling.

Next, one can choose between murgh harees with sheermal, an interplay of sweetness and spice on a bed of lentil-rich cooked-until-mashed chicken. For vegetarians, the katal (jackfruit) is cooked into a haleem dish.

In an unusual move, the chefs have introduced a palate cleanser to the menu — a kala khatta gola — an Indian summer special, versions of which are available across street corners through the country. As some grapple  with a satisfied appetite and hungry eyes, the next course will be brought out — with four options: dum ka murgh (with tender, cheese-stuffed chicken); shabghir,  or stew with goat tongue and shank cooked overnight; tala gosht, fried and tempered small chunks of goat meat; or shabnami kofte, veggie dumplings with black grapes, served in tomato sauce. This spread comes with khatti dal (a tangy dish of yellow lentil), palak maziyat (spinach with raisins), and flatbread (taftaan, a fluffy naan-like bread with fennel and nigella  seeds, or roomali).

To suggest a Hyderabadi meal without an exploration of biryani is impossible. And for Rani Kulsum Begum, this meant cooking up a kachchi ghost ki biryani, where the meat and rice are spiced and steamed together in a pot. There was also kumbh ki tehri on the cards – a mushroom concoction.

The meal ends with a combination sweet on a bed of dry ice — fried bread pudding with a dollop of rabri froth infused with saffron and cardamom.Eating in certain circles — those with real know-how — will teach you the intricacies of cut, colour, flavour profiles, and how the method of crafting a spice mix alters the taste of a certain dish. Did you know, for example, the way you chop an onion alters its profile? If it’s a longer cut, for instance, fewer cells will be ruptured — and the taste will be sweeter and milder. If it’s sliced across its equator, it will be more pungent.

To really appreciate a place, you must know its language of food. Each bite is an introduction to a unique culture.  And this is the perfect chance for you to start with an introduction to the tables — and lives — of the nawabs (royals).

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