Spice of Life (clip)

The most expensive spice
in the world is saffron,

and honestly, for good reason.

It takes a thousand flowers
to produce just one ounce,

but now, if you can believe it,

harvesting the magical stuff
is getting even more complicated.

SPICE OF LIFE

(Mohammad) We sow these seeds
that we take from the old stock.

4 or 5-year old seeds.

We take seeds when they have thickened.

Then we distribute and sow them in rows.

Then, by the second year,
it starts producing in good numbers.

Flower by flower,
this is the world's most expensive spice.

And Mohammad Yusuf has picked these
saffron buds since he was 10 years old

on a one-acre farm
that's been his family for generations.

This is the season of flowers,
and we're now collecting them.

Whatever we harvest is in our fate.

Saffron is harvested
in a two-week window each fall.

It only grows at a specific altitude,
which in India means Kashmir,

a territory at the foothills
of the Himalayas,

where about 32,000 people
cultivate the spice.

See, this is a flower.

When we reach home,
we will open and separate it like this.

Those red strings, once dried,
sell for up to $4,000 a kilogram,

and a few of those
will pay the bills for the year.

We work until late night.

Yes.

There is no disturbances at night.

Days are full disturbances.

Kashmir's saffron
is wildly popular across India

for its use in basic cuisines,

Ayurvedic medicine,

and as a dye,

which is used for Hindu religious garments

and the Indian flag.

Saffron is also the color of
the Hindu nationalist movement

that's pledged its undying support
to Prime Minister Narendra Modi,

who has long sought
more control over Kashmir,

a majority Muslim area

that's dealt with the Pakistani-backed
separatist movement for decades.

In August 2019,
Modi changed the Constitution

to take away Kashmir's Special Autonomy.

One nation, one constitution.

He imposed a lockdown

and cut off phone
and internet services for months

to prevent a mass uprising.

The political lockdown has since
been replaced by a COVID-19 one,

but Kashmiris still haven't gotten
their internet freedom back,

which has stunted the saffron trade
and hit growers hard.

And on top of all that,

farmers are facing an additional threat.

Climate change.

Since global warming,

we've been facing a great loss.

Before, we had rain
during our times of need.

But since that rain disappeared,
we've been badly affected.

Close to a third of Kashmir saffron fields
have disappeared since 1997,

a crisis which prompted the government
to invest 54 million dollars in 2010

into reviving the industry.

They dug wells, placed pipes, et cetera,

by they failed to deliver the water.

Whatever they show,
it is far from reality.

After nine years, only about 15%
of the sprinkler systems

meant to help farmers have been built.

Though the government has been slow

to set up the infrastructure
meant to boost production,

it has come up with a plan
to sell future harvests at a better price.

Our saffron qualitatively
is the best in the world.

In terms of aroma, taste, and flavor.

We decided that we'd campaign
before the authorities

that we must get to the GI tag.

GI stands for "Geographical Indication,"

a status the World Trade Organization
gave to Kashmiri saffron in July 2020

to certify its superior traits.

Farmers can now get their harvest GI tag

at a brand-new government
processing facility.

The adulteration which
otherwise used to be done

or repacking the saffron
from the other countries

on the name of
the Kashmiri saffron will stop,

and it will generate huge revenues

and a premium price for the farmers.

Compared to Iranian saffron,
which makes up 90% of the world supply,

the Kashmiri variant
has almost 30% more crosin,

a compound that gives the spice
its rich redness,

pain relieving properties,

and a taste so unique

that Kashmiri chefs won't stand
for using anything else.

There is a certain elegance
in our Kashmiri saffron.

There is saffron from Iran,

but it only gives [food] color,
just like turmeric.

But our saffron reflects Kashmiri culture.

You can tell the two apart
from their taste.

Bilal Ahmed oversees
the preparation of wazwan,

a traditional feast made for weddings,
family gatherings, even funerals.

Saffron is a key ingredient
in several main dishes of the meal

that can stretch for dozens of courses.

We bring saffron,
then dry it on a copper plate.

Then we crush it with a mortar and pestle.

Next, we add some water
to make a paste out of it.

A proper wazwan typically requires
two to three dozen chefs,

one ton of meat,

and about 50 grams
or $200 worth of saffron.

But wazwan have been smaller than usual
for more than a year now,

as the political and pandemic lockdowns
have limited the size of gatherings.

For example, we were supposed to cook

12 to 13 quintals of meat
[2,600 lbs.-2,900 lbs.]

for this function,

but now it is only two and a half
to three quintals [550 lbs.- 660 lbs.].

That's the difference.

It's made a lot of difference.

Our business is being affected,
and it will change our culture.

Life in Kashmir isn't just changing
because of the pandemic,

a political crisis,

or global warming.

The kids who grew up here
are now making different choices,

looking for opportunities
outside the saffron fields

and the kitchens of their homeland.

For chef Ahmed,

that means working harder
to keep his culture thriving.

Our children aren't keen to do this work
because it's very laborious.

They say, "We will do some
other business, but not all this."

This will go on because
I can't find comfort

in doing anything else.