Parsi cuisine: Pakistan
This is a collection of articles archived for the excellence of their content. Readers will be able to edit existing articles and post new articles directly |
Lahore: Parsi cusine
Savouring Parsi cusine By Saima Shakil Hussain
Who ever heard of wanting to visit Lahore for a taste of Parsi food? Lahore Museum: yes. Badshahi Masjid: yes. Even Liberty Market and Anarkali Bazaar: check and check. A leisurely trip – or two, or many more – to the city’s ‘food’ streets is, of course, a given. But authentic Parsi cuisine on The Mall? You better believe it.
Tucked away on the upper level of the Croweaters’ Gallery, near the old Tollinton Market on the historical, picturesque The Mall, is the city’s best-kept secret: a café offering a variety of Parsi fare. While the usual café items – sandwiches, muffins, etcetera – were also available, it was the set menu, with dhansaag and brown rice as the star feature, which immediately fascinated the starved tourist out on the trail without lunch till 4pm. The price seemed a little steep at first (Rs550) but this opinion would be revised before the meal had even ended.
It should have been a little awkward. A single woman in a strange city seating herself at a table and demanding a full-blown lunch at 4pm. But food comes in Lahore as readily as a riot in Karachi, 24/7.
The only other occupants of the space at that hour were a not-so-young couple whispering to each other across the table and a Caucasian woman catching up with acquaintances on her mobile phone. But awkward hath no business when a woman’s starved; soon enough the first course arrived, or rather, as it turned out, the first appetiser.
Accourri on toast turned out to be a very moist and well-seasoned mixture of scrambled eggs with onions, served with wedges of crispy bread. It was the perfect comfort food so, not surprisingly, the dish was returned wiped clean. Delivered next was a large plate neatly arranged with vegetables and pieces of chicken. Convinced that there had been a mistake, I beckoned a member of the serving staff to inquire about the promised dhansaag and brown rice. ‘That is next item, madam’. Talk about value for your money. Bapsi Sidhwa’s croweaters are going to stuff us till we can’t walk out.
The chicken and vegetables turned out to be two types of salad. One featured bell peppers, carrots and mushrooms sautéed with chunks of pineapple. It was interesting: sweet and savoury at the same time. The other was a somewhat exotic combination of shredded chicken, slivers of almonds, raisins and toasted coconut. Definitely worth lingering over, but I was getting impatient: where’s the dhansaag?
At last the star arrived. In individual bowls came dhansaag and sweet and sour eggplant, accompanied by a serving of steaming hot brown rice. The haleem-like concoction made with chicken and a variety of lentils, dhansaag, I was sorry to note, had clearly come in the prime of its freshness. I had had much better dhansaag at a Parsi ghumbar in Karachi. The one at the Croweaters smelt and tasted stale and lacked any of its famed tangy, spicy goodness.
The serving of eggplant was much more up to par, and went very well with the brown rice. The sheer quantity of food to that point made one realise that the price tag was in fact more than fair. The set menu could well satiate two hungry tourists; the one very hungry person could not – try as she did – make much of a dent in it.
And then came dessert and the very notion of sharing was quickly forgotten. Warm chocolate cake swimming in a small sea of chocolate fudge sauce and topped with cream, it was just the right size for one very happy customer. Accompanied by a mug of strong filtered coffee, it was decidedly an un-Parsi conclusion to the meal but still a very welcome one.
A perfect meal in a quiet, air-conditioned café, while sitting next to a window overlooking the old Tollinton Market and Anarkali Bazaar, is one of the many reasons to be thankful for Lahore.
