🌍 Thanksgiving week and my American neighbours finally tasted my wife's biryani

We have lived in the same Houston cul-de-sac for six years and never invited anyone over until this November. My wife made a full biryani on Wednesday night, the kind that takes four hours and a heavy pot. Our neighbour Greg walked by on Thursday morning and said the whole street smelled like a restaurant. I did what any Hyderabadi would do and told him to come in for a plate before he left. He came back with his wife and two kids, all of them staring at the steel lunch box. I had to explain that the rice and the meat cook together in one pot, which blew his mind. His daughter asked why there was no fork on the table, and I did not have a good answer. So we handed out forks and spoons, and most of them were eating with their fingers within five minutes anyway. The yogurt side confused them, since they kept calling it a dip and scooping it up with chips. Greg went back for thirds and asked my wife how many hours the marinade had sat in the fridge. She told him overnight at minimum, and he wrote it on his phone like it was a job interview. The kids ignored the meat and ate only the fried onions off the top, which is fair. Around seven o'clock the light started going and nobody had moved from the table, which almost never happens here. Greg poured homemade apple cider for everyone and I brought out the vermicelli dessert we had left over. Nobody in my family drinks cider, but my father in law on the video call approved of the whole idea. It was the first time in six years that our street felt like somewhere people knew each other. Greg stopped me at the mailbox on Saturday and asked whether we do this every year. I told him it was just a regular Thursday, and he looked properly disappointed about that. Now there is a plan for a street potluck before Christmas, and I am in charge of the rice. My wife says we are making two pots this time, one with less spice for the kids.

Six years on the same cul-de-sac and it took a biryani smell to get Greg through the door, classic. The kids only eating the fried onions off the top is exactly what my nephews do back home too. Did your wife give him the full recipe or just the overnight marinade part?