Pheasant Biryani

For the New Year

Happy New Year! I sit writing this as 2025 welcomes me in with strong winds and horizontal sheets of rain, so instead of going out for a walk I am inside, cosy, and spending some time thinking about all the things I have eaten over the festive period. One of the highlights was something I always try to cook on Christmas Eve. A number of years ago we changed our traditional fish with spiced lentils to something a little more exotic, and this in turn has become tradition in our house.

Biryani, plated

Biryani is a celebratory dish for special occasions - weddings, festivals and holidays - so I feel it is particularly suited to a role in the festive lineup. Christmas Eve, in my case, or perhaps New Year’s Day for you? Granted, I’m not giving you much time to run out and get a pheasant, but perhaps you have a chicken to hand instead…

Pheasant is a lovely thing to cook this time of year, and goes very well with all my favourite spices: cardamom, both black and green, saffron, black cumin, fennel, rosewater, and cinnamon. A light hand with the spicing is more alluring, I think. Try to keep the meat curry fragrant and it will marry better with the rice.

What differentiates biryani from a common-or-garden pilaf or pilau is the layering of meat and rice. In general I tend to (par)cook both meat and rice separately first and layer them together in a pot that I can bake in the oven; this is along the lines of an Awadhi style biryani popular in Lucknow in the North of India. The rice, boiled until it is softening but still has a bite, finishes cooking in the aromatic steam from the meat, and if done right this is a rice dish without rival; simply (in my humble opinion) the most delicious way to eat meat and rice together.

Topped with a tight lid and sealed with bread dough, the pot can be plonked in pride of place on the table. Crack the seal, lift the lid, and the fragrant steam will escape the pot, to the delight of your guests, I hope. I love to serve a biryani with myriad delicious sprinkles: roast almonds, drizzled in melted butter, salted and coated with icing sugar, ruby-red pomegranate seeds, fresh picked coriander, julienned ginger, dried rose petals (or if you have some unsprayed in your garden, fresh are even better), and chopped hot green chillies for those that like it with a little extra kick. Also on the side, serve the biryani with the gravy from the meat, halved boiled eggs, and joy of joys, spiced fried (or roast!) potatoes to add a little extra ballast.

Various stages of a pheasant biryani

The key to a successful biryani is the careful par-cooking of the rice. Have everything ready before you drop the rice into the water, then you can layer the rice straight onto the hot curry in the pot you’re going to finish the biryani in. An earthenware pot would be fantastic, but I usually use my Mum’s old Le Creuset and it works jolly well. Once your meat and rice have been layered in the pot, poke a few holes with the handle of a wooden spoon and drizzle in some buttery saffron milk. This will infuse your rice with deliciousness, of course, and hopefully stain a few grains of rice a golden orange hue which will fleck through the rice as you spoon it out.

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The scene is set!

Pheasant Biryani

Serves 4

If you can’t find a pheasant, or don’t like it, use chicken or lamb instead; altering the spicing to your preference. Cook the meat until it is soft before you layer it with the rice, as it will only cook for about half an hour longer in the oven. The following recipe isn’t short, but if you can take your time there’s really nothing too difficult here at all, and your reward will be worth it.