Saffron Chicken: A Velvet Gravy, A Golden Thread

The simplest royal dish you’ll ever make (and never forget)

Apr 25, 2025

This dish may wear a humble apron, but it arrives at the table like royalty.

Saffron Chicken (Zafrani Murgh, if we’re getting poetic) is my mother’s go-to when she wants the table to fall silent, not out of awkwardness, but awe. The kind of silence where the only sounds are the clink of spoons and the occasional involuntary mmm. That’s how you know a dish is working.

Despite its royal-sounding name, Saffron Chicken isn’t complicated. It’s built on what you already know how to do: marinate, stir, wait. If you can do those three things, and trust your nose along the way, you’re already halfway there.

But First, a Word About Saffron

Let’s not pretend saffron isn’t dramatic. It’s the diva of the spice world. Temperamental, stunning, absurdly expensive, and absolutely worth it.

It takes about 75,000 saffron blossoms to make a single pound of saffron. That’s not hyperbole. That’s what makes it so special.

It’s also why you don’t need much. Just 10–12 strands can perfume your entire dish. Think of it as flavor confetti, rare, delicate, and meant to be handled with reverence, not recklessness.

So yes, this dish is rich. But it’s not about showing off. It’s about honoring the small luxuries that make everyday meals feel like a celebration.

Ingredients

Serves 2 (you and a loved one).

For the Marination:

300g chicken (bone-in or boneless)
1/3 cup yogurt
1 tbsp cream (optional, but rich)
1/4 tsp red chilli powder (adjust to taste)
1/4 tsp mace powder
A pinch of green cardamom powder
1/2 tsp salt (or to taste)
10–12 strands saffron

For the Gravy:

3 tbsp ghee or oil
1 medium onion, chopped
1½ tsp ginger-garlic paste
1/2 cup water
10 cashews
1/3 cup milk

Equipment:

Pan with a lid
Wooden spoon
Pestle & mortar or grinder

The Art (a.k.a. How Mom Does It)

In a bowl, marinate your chicken with all the ingredients under the "marination" list. Let it sit for at least an hour. Let the flavors fall in love.

Heat ghee or oil in a pan. Add chopped onions and fry until golden, not burnt, not pale, just right.
Add ginger-garlic paste.
Add water and cook on medium heat until the oil separates from the gravy (about 10 minutes). Add a splash more water if it’s sticking.
Introduce your marinated chicken. Cover and cook on low for 20–30 minutes.
While that simmers, grind the cashews with milk into a smooth paste.
Add this paste to the pan, stir, and cook for another 5 minutes until the gravy thickens and the oil rises like a little golden halo.
Serve hot with rice, naan, or whatever vehicle of carbs brings you joy.

The Lore Behind the Luxury

Saffron, or Zafran, has always been a bit extra. But this isn’t just legend, it’s legacy. The spice comes from the Crocus sativus flower, which blooms just a few days a year. Each flower offers only three fragile red threads. It takes about 150,000 of them to make a kilo. That’s not precious, it’s poetic.

The Minoans painted saffron harvests onto their palace walls. Persian royals laced it into rugs and rituals. Cleopatra is said to have bathed in it, believing it enhanced her beauty. Alexander the Great soaked in saffron baths for healing. Ayurvedic healers swore by it for mood and memory. Basically, saffron was self-care before it was cool.

And still, today, you’ll find it high on pantry shelves in South Asian homes. Stashed away in tiny jars. Waited for. Respected. Whispered about like it’s someone’s grandmother’s heirloom.

So yes, it’s a luxury. But not for show. It’s the kind that’s passed down. Measured in pinches, but remembered forever.

A Few Notes from the Kitchen

Don’t drown the dish in saffron. Use saffron like a final brushstroke, not a bucket of paint.
Watch your onions, too dark and you’ve crossed into bitterness.
Once the cashew paste goes in, stir gently and often. It likes to stick when no one’s watching.

On Cooking Like Mom: There’s no exact science here. You cook until it looks right, smells right, and feels right. That's the recipe. Everything else is just vocabulary.

Want to Learn the Craft?

Every Friday, I’ll share a new recipe straight from my mother’s kitchen. She doesn’t measure. She doesn’t brag. She just cooks with intuition, heart, and the occasional amused glance at me scrambling to write everything down.

Each recipe is scaled for two, and simplified just enough to get you started, because tradition should be shared, not gatekept.

Try this? Post your photo. Ask your questions. Leave a comment. Let’s cook up a storm, one spice at a time.

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