Fragrant basmati rice layered with spiced prawns, herbs, caramelised onions, and a smoky homemade prawn-shell stock. Layers of fragrant rice, smoky stock, and tender prawns come together in one dish that surprised me more than I ever imagined. #PrawnBiryani
Earlier this month, I travelled to Bengaluru, India, for work and ended up staying there for three weekends. If you noticed my absence from replying to comments and visiting blog friends during that time, I apologise, it was a busy stretch. But if there’s one silver lining to that trip, it was discovering a dish that has now firmly taken a place in my food memory: prawn biryani.
It wasn’t something I had gone out seeking. One afternoon, one of my staff members kindly brought a box of prawn biryani for me to try. To be honest, I didn’t expect much. In my mind, biryani was always tied to lamb, mutton, or chicken. Prawns? That was new territory. But the first spoonful immediately rewired everything I thought I knew about this classic dish. It was sublime, the prawns were meaty and generous, the rice was delicately spiced, and the overall flavour was balanced yet full of depth. Nothing felt too heavy or overpowering. It was subtle, mellow, and yet still packed a punch. Simply put, it was the best biryani I had ever tasted.
From that moment, I knew I had to recreate it back home.
What Is Prawn Biryani?
Prawn biryani, also known as shrimp biryani, is a layered rice dish from the Indian subcontinent. Fragrant basmati rice is par-cooked with spices, then layered with prawns marinated in a blend of turmeric, yoghurt, ginger, garlic, and aromatic masalas. Onions are caramelised until sweet and golden, fresh herbs like mint and coriander are added, and everything is sealed together under dum, the slow cooking method that allows the flavours to steam and meld.
It is, in every sense, a celebratory dish. But thanks to regional adaptations, it has also become a comforting home-style recipe in many coastal Indian households.
Tracing Its Origins
The story of biryani is one of movement and adaptation. The word itself likely comes from the Persian birinj (rice) or biryan (to fry or roast). As Persian traders and conquerors travelled through the subcontinent, they brought rice-based dishes that intermingled with local traditions.
It was in the Mughal courts between the 16th and 19th centuries that layered biryani truly took shape, blending Persian techniques with Indian spices. From there, the dish spread and evolved into countless regional forms.
In coastal areas, particularly in Bengal, Odisha, Kerala, and Goa, seafood became the natural choice of protein. Abundant prawns, with their briny sweetness, gave rise to variations like the Hyderabadi prawn biryani with saffron, Kolkata-style versions with potatoes and eggs, and Kerala’s coconut-scented Malabar meen biryani. Each is a reflection of local produce and flavour traditions, yet they all remain tied to the original layering method.
My Take on It
Back home, I couldn’t wait to give it a try. While I knew my version might not perfectly match the one, I had in Bengaluru, I wanted to capture as much prawn flavour as possible. To do that, I took an extra step: roasting the prawn shells and heads in the oven until smoky and fragrant, then blending and straining them into a stock, a tried and tested approach for me as I had used this on my Shrimp Ramen and Lelot Paro. This rich, briny liquid became the base for cooking my rice, and it gave every grain an umami depth that reminded me of the sea.
The final dish came close, very close, to what I tasted in India. Perhaps I still missed a spice here or there, but the essence was undeniably there: tender prawns, fragrant rice, the slight sweetness of fried onions, and the harmony of herbs and spices. It may not have been the exact same biryani my colleague shared with me, but it held its own proudly.
If you’ve only ever associated biryani with red meats or chicken, give prawns a chance. They bring a lighter, more delicate character while still standing tall against even the most robust versions. Trust me, this one is worth trying.
generous pinch saffron, soaked in 2 tbsp warm water
2 tbsp ghee
Instructions
Mix the yogurt, spices, aromatics, fried onions, oil, lemon juice, and salt in a bowl. Add the prawns, stir to coat evenly, cover, and refrigerate for 30 minutes.
Preheat the oven to 200 °C. Spread the reserved prawn heads and shells on a baking sheet, season with a pinch of salt, and roast for 15–20 minutes until golden and fragrant. Let cool slightly, then transfer to a blender with 500 ml water. Pulse gently, strain through a fine mesh, and set the prawn stock aside.
Heat 3 tbsp oil in a heavy-bottomed pot over low heat. Fry the sliced onion until golden.
Add the tomato and bay leaf, cooking on medium–high for 1 minute.
Stir in the marinated prawns, cooking on high for 1 minute, then reduce to low and cook 1 more minute.
Mix in the coriander and mint leaves, then remove the pot from the heat.
In a separate large pot, bring the prawn-shell stock to a boil with 2 tbsp ghee, lemon juice, shajeera, and salt.
Add the drained basmati rice and cook for 6–7 minutes, until grains are about 70% tender. Drain the rice in a colander.
Return the pot with the prawns to the stove. Spread half of the par-cooked rice over the prawn layer. Sprinkle ¼ cup fried onions (birista), top with the remaining rice. Drizzle the saffron-infused water and 2 tbsp ghee evenly. Finish with the remaining fried onions.
Seal the pot tightly with its lid (or dough) and place over high heat for 5 minutes.
Reduce to the lowest flame and cook for 12 minutes.
Turn off the heat and let the biryani rest, covered, for 10 minutes. Gently fluff with a fork, then serve hot with raita and lemon wedges.
Have had many. many biriyanis – don’t think any have looked quite as appetizing as yours here. Have to check your marinade with mine > yours may have one or two more ingredients . . . have to check your timings also . . . thank you . . .
Oh my, this sounds unbelievable! We love prawns, and have a great source for them here in Tucson. Also, don’t you think that Kashmiri chile powder makes everything so much better? I’m definitely trying this soon, Raymund.
Using prawns in this dish is certainly a twist on the usual…but I love it! This looks so comforting and delicious. Well done on the recreation of this one!
Have had many. many biriyanis – don’t think any have looked quite as appetizing as yours here. Have to check your marinade with mine > yours may have one or two more ingredients . . . have to check your timings also . . . thank you . . .
I love biriyanis! But this one takes the cake. I like the marinade.
You will need to try this
Oh my, this sounds unbelievable! We love prawns, and have a great source for them here in Tucson. Also, don’t you think that Kashmiri chile powder makes everything so much better? I’m definitely trying this soon, Raymund.
Such a beautiful dish! The prawn biryani looks rich, fragrant, and packed with flavour – absolutely tempting.
This sounds and looks so fluffy and incredibly delicious with those succulent prawns!
ooh yum Raymund. I love prawns, and i love your idea of cooking up your own stock. Delish I bet!
cheers
sherry
Yes they were, all the effort paid!
Using prawns in this dish is certainly a twist on the usual…but I love it! This looks so comforting and delicious. Well done on the recreation of this one!
Glad you liked the Biryani. We can have more when you’re back here :)