The sweetest things in life

Published September 27, 2008

Before long Eid will be upon us. And if you've had quite enough of the samosas, pakoras and other fried, high-calorie delights during Ramazan, fear not, as the festive occasion of Eidul Fitr will give more than ample chance to those with a sweet tooth to satiate their desires till they've had their fill with even higher calorie delights.

Let's face it Eid is a sweet-lovers' festival. And if my observations aren't wholly off the mark, then the three days of Eid all but make up for all the feasting on savoury delights during Ramazan. That's not to say that sweet dishes don't feature on the Iftar/Sehr menu. They do. But during the month of fasting they are mere bit players, side attractions playing second fiddle to the fried delights, chaats and other spicy fare. On Eid, sweets are centre stage.

From the first of many bowls of sheer khurma you shall devour on Eid - after all, all your relatives, friends, in-laws, outlaws, neighbours, tribes-people, etc will insist that you try a 'little bit' - till you can no longer even look at something remotely sweet, Eid is the occasion for desert connoisseurs.

Traditionally, the aforementioned sheer khurma has dominated the Eid sweets menu. What it is, is a heavenly concoction of milk, vermicelli, dates, sugar, almonds, pistachios and dried fruit. A less elaborate avatar of sheer khurma is sivaiyyan, which can be prepared with or without milk.

Other desserts that feature on Eid spreads depend on personal taste and family traditions. But if you are visiting someone on Eid or any other festive occasion, it is always nice to bring along a box of mitthai, or traditional subcontinental sweets. And if you're in the mood for sampling mitthai from across the Indian subcontinent, Karachi does not disappoint the intrepid gastronome.

Talking to an elder, much wiser journeyman who's been around the block, and then some, the story of how Karachi's mitthai-wallahs evolved became a tad clearer to this writer. Talking to our Oracle of mitthai, it was learnt that at the time of Partition, some of the more famous mitthai-wallahs of Karachi were Abdul Hannan, Ambala, Ahmed and S. Abdul Khaliq, among others.

Abdul Hannan had outlets in Boulton Market and Saddar, while his speciality was the chewy, almost rubbery Karachi halwa. Ahmed - which has now moved into chutney and achchar territory - had branches all over the city while Ambala operated off the erstwhile Frere Road. S. Abdul Khaliq, who was originally from Delhi, specialized in halwa sohn, the circular, crunchy dessert one needs molars of steel to crack. I believe they still operate a few outlets in the city.

Today, Karachi's mitthai-wallahs have gone high-tech. One feels the focus has shifted from making delectable sweets that melt in the mouth to trying to cram as much merchandise in the display cases as possible. A popular sweet vendor in North Nazimabad - who was known for his heavenly ras malai back in the eighties - has started selling everything from chips to mini-pizzas to cakes. Oh yes, and they manage to sell a bit of mitthai as well. Pizzas at a halwai's! Surely, the ancients sitting in mitthai heaven must not be amused.

Suffice to say due to the seemingly overzealous marketing, it is clear that the quality of the mitthai has dipped across the board. The matching outfits for serving staff, mascots and plum barfi are all real cute, but what's the use if your mitthai just doesn't cut it? And by mitthai I mean the old-school, real deal stuff, not the greasy, overly sugary stuff that is bandied about at most places.

Making mitthai right is an art. The right blend of sugar, ghee and other ingredients as well as the perfect texture are of the utmost importance. Having said that, there a few places in the city where one can still find a taste of old world mitthai, the way it should be made.

Though the aforementioned joint in North Nazimabad has lost the ability to make great ras malai, they deserve kudos for their chum chum, a truly heavenly type of sweet that supposedly has its origin in Bengal. But if one wants to talk about sweets of the former Eastern Wing, a place on Gulshan Chowrangi - with a branch on Burnes Road as well - perhaps makes the most delicious Bengali sweets in town.

Sharing a name with a famous Maulana of Bengal with communist leanings, the place's cham cham are to die for. But perhaps the most intriguing thing I've tried there is the meetha dahi. A friend served it up after dinner five or six years ago. The taste has still not left my taste-buds. Kept in an earthen bowl, for the uninitiated it looks remarkably like custard. But custard it definitely isn't as with the tangy kick of yoghurt it sets itself apart, far apart. Whenever I am at this particular halwai's, I always remember to pay my respects to the bowls of meetha dahi waiting to be sold.

The descriptions of mitthai and of the few accomplished halwais that remain in Karachi can go on forever. However, one feels that the city severely lacks good karigars who can produce quality mava, or dairy-based mitthai such as qalaqand or misri mava. The stuff produced locally is either too bland or not creamy enough.

However, no column on the sweets of Karachi would be complete without mention of the rabri/kheer-wallahs of Burnes Road. Two or three joints feature on Burnes Road, manned by amply bearded gents. The rabri served here is indeed extremely rich, creamy and at times excessively sweet. One would be lucky to go beyond the first helping.

But the silken-smooth kheer served here is another story. In times of great hunger and unbridled gluttony, one feels one can down a whole cauldron of the velvety stuff, sprinkled with crunchy almonds.