The preparation is a patient, deliberate process. First, the dried gucchi must be cleaned thoroughly, as they are often caked with soil from their wild origins. “You trim the ends, wash them multiple times, then soak them in hot water,” Vanika explains. This soaking water transforms into a deeply umami-rich broth, never discarded, but used as a base for cooking the rice. She remembers her mother reserving even the mushroom trimmings, using them to make broths — an example of a sustainability mindset deeply ingrained in Kashmiri households long before it became a global trend. The rice is just as significant as the mushrooms. Vanika’s grandmother often used mushk budji, a short-grain, aromatic variety that once dominated Kashmiri kitchens but the grain is rarely found today, and when it is, it’s reserved for weddings and special occasions.

As the pot heats, Vanika adds ghee, watching as it melts and shimmers. Whole spices follow — black cardamom, cinnamon, bay leaf, shahi zeera — each one toasting briefly in the hot fat, releasing its heady aroma. Then, the gucchi mushrooms go in, absorbing the flavors of the spices. “Roasting the mushrooms in ghee enhances their depth,” she explains, stirring gently. “You have to let them breathe in the spices before adding the rice.” The soaked rice joins the mix, each grain toasting slightly before the reserved mushroom broth is poured in, along with a delicate infusion of saffron steeped in warm water. The lid goes on, and the pulao simmers, absorbing the rich flavors of the broth, spices, and mushrooms.