As the long sweltering summer finally comes to an end, we Lahoris eagerly start anticipating a winter packed with hot and scrumptious comfort foods. It’s not that we, the incorrigible foodaholics, quit eating meaty curry, smouldering BBQ and heavy-to-digest naan during the summer, but, somehow, the weather forces us to limit the intake.
Come winter and the food scene changes to a festival. From the breezy evenings of early autumn to the foggy nights of January, an unannounced food gala continues, pushing itself on into the still, chilly nights of spring festivals.
Lahore manifests traditional Punjabi abundance and richness in its menu variety. The most consumed and enjoyed winter vegetable is sarson ka saag (mustard leaves). The dish probably dates back to the times of Aryans in Punjab, who used green leafy vegetables and dairy products in their meals. It takes a long time to prepare, but winter feasts are incomplete without it. It provides an entertaining activity to the elderly women as they sit, separating the leaves and softer stems over cosy neighbourhood gossip.
It is cooked best with basic spices over slow heat in the handi (earthen pot) and then enriched with a dollop of home-made butter (if available) and served with freshly baked makai ki roti (corn bread). For those who don’t have the time or patience or a cook, this rustic delight is available on many posh restaurants’ menus as well. I have seen it even in grocery stores as ready-to-heat-and-eat meals.
Another popular indulgence is deep fried Amritsari fish, served with imli ki chatni (tamarind chutney). As the name implies, it originated from Indian Punjab. It’s cooked mainly with Rahu — a popular river fish — dipped in a heavy coating of baisan (gram flour) and then deep fried in mustard oil till it is crispy. Nowadays, only a few people use mustard oil.An assortment of egg plant and other vegetable pakoras come as a side order with it. Until a few years back it was available mainly inside the walled city or its outskirts, however as the city expands, many ‘brands’ have also branched out in the relatively newer, suburban localities. Shallow pan-fried fish is another variety.
Other local foods — which once used to be prepared specially for celebrations around Sufi shrines, cultural festivities, monsoon or were served as side dishes with elaborate wedding meals — like halwa puri, bhature (a thick small puri served with chickpeas and pickles) and qatlama (a local, spicy variation of pizza) have become popular winter street food now, though some of them are still limited to the old city. Indeed, halwa puri has become a famous breakfast and brunch food for the city elite. For its real traditional taste one should go to the roadside dhabas. For the hygiene conscious it is dished out at most classy restaurants and tastes as any other cultural snobbery should taste.
Meat dishes quite obviously dominate the Lahori food scene under the influence of Mongol and Turk invaders, who brought with them curries cooked in hot pots. Siri paya (goat’s head and hooves) is another hot favourite in winter. Be it a family get together at home or a meal out with friends, deep platters or bowls of steaming paya soup seem to be on top of everyone’s comfort food list.
Another close competitor is nihari. Essentially a spicy beef curry, it is also available in its mutton and chicken variations now to cater to Punjabis’ preference for goat and chicken meat. To enrich it further, you may add fried brain and/or desi ghee ka tarka on the side. Now these dishes are available even along the Lahore-Islamabad motorway.
Talking of meat feasts, Lahoris literally let no part of the meat go to waste. Another winter favourite is taka tak (kata kat in Karachi). It’s a feast in itself to watch the cook slice and chop, fry and slice goat organs like kidneys, hearts or chops, etc. with two huge choppers, making a rhythmic sound. The result is a mouth watering masala curry.
Then we have the sensuous and glamorous influence of the Mughals on Lahori cuisine. They brought aromatic spices, rich gravies and tandoori cooking. What can be more enjoyable on a frosty Lahore night than sitting near an open clay oven or tanoor, breathing in the aroma of saffron kebabs, malai tikka, and almond qorma, served with freshly baked naan and/or layered parathas.
The tradition of ending a meal with dessert was also acquired from the Mughals and merged with the Punjabi sweet tooth, so one has a long list of temptations to choose from: gajar ka halwa, kaddoo ka halwa, channay ki daal ka halwa and so on. Or one can indulge in a bowl of hot ghulab jamuns dripping with sugar and rose water syrup.
Last but not least is the Kashmiri culinary boon that Lahoris have taken to as their own. No winter is complete without Kashmiri hareesa — an amalgamation of meat broth, spinach, wheat, lentil and spices cooked together till they become homogenous and of thick consistency. Very tiny seekh kababs are added to it with desi ghee ka tarka before serving. Whether one eats it for breakfast or dinner all one can think of afterwards is sleeping it off.
Finally, you have the salty/sweet, creamy pink tea to warm your very soul. The first sip greets you with a layer of cream and at the bottom of the cup chopped pistachios await you. It sounds sinful calorie-wise, but the aroma of cardamom makes the whole experience almost spiritual. It’s a wholesome breakfast with hot kulchas, bakarkhanees or pheni/khajla dipped in it, and an equally calming bedtime drink.
After all this enticement if you don’t end up being a size plus by the end of winter in Lahore, there is definitely something wrong with you.