One of the highlights of working around the North Bridge Road area just outside the CBD zone is obvious- no ERP (for drivers) and for the majority, serious and diligent Muslim chow. Try to tout stuff that’s too unfamiliar to the crowds that throng the nearby Sultan Mosque, especially on a Friday, with stuff they can’t pronounce or some mumbo jumbo kitchen experiment smoothened with mayonnaise, and they’ll vote you out of their lives. Which is why some of the best nasi padang maestros toil there alongside a few fiercely competitive nasi briyani masters there. Which is also why I am so happy going to work around there everyday.

Abak’s version can be considered as a
“less unhealthy” version of nasi briyani

But nasi briyani, unfortunately is one of the threats your good intentioned doctor will shout into your conscience if you are a “habitual repeat offender” of that makan, like an alkaline battery bunny consistently knocking a plate of nasi briyani into its mouth. Frankly, I dare devour that golden brown, red and white nasi perhaps only once every two months. And one of those moments was about a month ago. An associate, James Sundram, was once shouting and touting the glory of “this damn solid dum briyani, deh.” , to me some time ago. Yeah right, I get these words of wisdom from many folks all the time- some with kind intent and others with a kind of intent, especially to food commentators like me. Since it is within earshot of my office, I moseyed over there one fine lunch-time day, to this little stall, basically a hole with four walls that has limited plastic blue tables and chairs. It was already entertaining a full house on a weekday, and James (whose office is just above this stall), was busy stuffing his face with the mutton briyani at the back of the shop. Yes, suspicion was brewing in my head- “is he related to the owner”, “is he their publicist” (and he works as a publicist, by the way), and the paranoia began to set in.

But on my first mouthful of the briyani, which even food bloggers that I follow are talking about on our Makansutra online forum, I realize why James was all agog with this traditional middle-eastern rice dish - every grain of the curvy pilaf came soft, fluffy, loose, not lumpy and executed without excuses like nuts, dried fruits or laden with cloves or cinnamon. And the most remarkable part- it was NOT OILY. I thought “what, how can”, as briyani that is not presented as a proper sin doused with a healthy dose of ghee are for wimps. Besides, I also noted that the overall taste of the pilaf was just under-flavoured. I wondered why, until I had a bite of the almost wobbly soft mutton (they use a leaner cut). It came so well simmered in the spice paste and intensely flavoured. Have both the pilaf and the meat swirling in the palate together and you’ll realize why many food writers so often and lazily use the term “balance”. The dhal came thick and nutty, not the diluted and looking like it was replenish with water yesterday type. To me, this was the balanced diet of nasi briyani.

“I sellout everyday so come early at 11am if you don’t want to see these empty pots” says boss Mohamed Noor.

“I started hanging around the Onan Road mosque as a kid with the boys who were helping out the machik (aunties) cook briyani on Fridays” chef and boss Mohamed Noor recalls. About thirty years later, and with a failed stint earlier as a caterer and a part time taxi driver under his belt, he set up Abak Briyani Dam in 2006, combining what he learnt, with the recipe his father gave him. All I could extract from him for the recipe was a “ I use very little good grade ghee”. Hand at heart, I have a lot of respect for cooks who are proud of their skills and overly protective of the recipes, but I had hoped he would realize that this skill will not be very useful if he brought it to the “other side” when the time came. And in a hushed whisper “only my wife and my teenage son know the recipe”, he revealed. Okay, great if junior can carry on daddy’s heritage and legacy when he’s not busy updating his facebook account.

A peep into the kitchen set up and you can tell he cooks for regulars and his catering business. 75% of his revenue comes from phone-in and massive orders for functions and events. His record, he recounts, was a 4000 order to go, in one day. And it is at times like these that he will close for the day unannounced (although his card says it opens everyday). And it also says they sell from “11am till sold out” (which could mean 1pm on some days). And at five bucks fifty cents for this Abak Briyani, I say go early, deh.