Wazwan: Kashmir's centuries-old wedding feast evolves as young chefs trade all-night weddings for restaurants

Every autumn, the lanes and courtyards of Srinagar begin to resonate with a sound that has signalled celebration in Kashmir for generations: the steady, rhythmic thud of wooden mallets striking lamb on stone slabs. The noise is the opening act of Wazwan, the lavish multi-course mutton feast that remains the centrepiece of traditional Kashmiri weddings and one of the region's most enduring cultural institutions.

Wazwan is far more than a meal. It is a ceremony, a status symbol and a statement of identity rolled into one, with recipes and rituals that trace back roughly 600 years to the arrival of the dish in the Kashmir Valley from Central Asia in the 14th century. According to the historical account, rulers of that era brought skilled cooks with them, alongside the carpet and shawl weavers who would go on to shape the region's craft heritage.

The cooks who inherited those traditions are known as wazas, and among the most experienced is 74-year-old Ghulam Nabi Baba, a veteran chef who traces his lineage directly to those early Central Asian migrants. His forefathers settled in Srinagar's old city as members of a community of cooks known as Wazpora, a name that still carries weight in Kashmir's culinary world.

Baba has watched the feast expand over his lifetime. "There were only seven mutton dishes at that time. Over the centuries we added more, and now there are around 20," he said, describing a menu that has grown steadily as generation after generation of cooks refined and added to the repertoire.

The scale of a Wazwan is often a direct reflection of a family's wealth. Baba recalled cooking 4,500kg (9,920 pounds) of meat for a single wedding in Delina, a village in north Kashmir, four decades ago — an exceptionally large event. By comparison, he said, an average marriage typically requires around 200kg (440 pounds) of meat, a figure that still represents a considerable expense for most families.

Yet despite the growing number of dishes, the fundamental techniques behind Wazwan have barely changed. Lightly spiced meat is still pounded by hand, then simmered slowly over wood fires in degchis, the traditional heavy-bottomed copper pots that give the cooking its distinctive character. It is painstaking, labour-intensive work, and Baba has followed the same process since he joined his father as a cook at the age of 15.

The signature dishes of the feast remain largely as they have for centuries. Among them are rista, meatballs served in a red gravy; gushtaba, a yoghurt-based meat dish that traditionally closes the meal and signals to guests that the feast is ending; rogan josh, the slow-cooked lamb curry that has become the most internationally recognised Kashmiri dish; tabak maaz, or fried ribs; and kabab. Each is prepared with the same hand-pounding and slow-cooking methods that give Wazwan its dense texture and smoky flavour.

Presentation carries its own rituals. Dishes are served on a trami, a traditional copper platter, with groups of guests gathering around each one — a communal style of eating that reinforces the feast's role as a social bond rather than a simple meal. The bride, adorned in traditional bridal attire and jewellery, sits at the centre of the celebration that the food is meant to honour.

But the pressures of contemporary life are quietly reshaping the tradition. Baba's own son has chosen a different path, opting to open a restaurant instead of continuing to cook at weddings, explaining that the round-the-clock demands of the work are simply too exhausting. His decision is part of a broader shift in Kashmir, where some younger chefs have moved away from wedding catering and into restaurant kitchens.

That generational change does not necessarily mean the end of the craft. Baba's son believes he is still carrying forward his family's centuries-old culinary legacy, just in a different setting — one where Wazwan can be adapted to contemporary tastes, dining habits and lifestyles while keeping its essential techniques alive.

The migration of Wazwan from wedding courtyards to restaurant tables reflects a wider pattern in how traditional cuisines survive. Restaurant work offers more predictable hours and a steadier income than the gruelling wedding circuit, which can demand days of preparation and overnight cooking. Yet it also separates the food from the communal occasion that gave it meaning, raising questions about what is preserved when a ritual dish becomes a menu item.

For now, both worlds coexist in Srinagar. Diners can order Wazwan at restaurants, where supplies are unloaded from vans and served to customers at tables, while wazas continue to pound meat by hand and tend wood fires for weddings in the traditional way. The feast's ability to occupy both spaces may prove to be its greatest strength.

What remains constant is Wazwan's role as a marker of Kashmiri identity. Whether prepared for thousands of wedding guests or served to restaurant diners, the feast carries with it the history of migration, craft and family lineage that has defined the Valley's cooking for six centuries — a legacy that Baba's generation built and that the next generation is now deciding how to carry forward.