Ami’s Palao – Caramelised / Spiced Pilaf in the Pakistani Manner

I don’t have friendships which have lasted thirty-some odd years.

I don’t have friends from kindergarten that I grew up and stayed up late at night with around the bonfire during summer camp, singeing marshmallows till they were gooey enough to be sandwiched between graham crackers with some chocolate tucked in. I don’t have a collection of yearbooks on my bookshelf which I can share with friends and laugh over that nerdy Grade Two portrait, the one in which my hair is parted in the middle and swept up on both sides with a candy-pink barrette, (thanks, Ami).Read More

Spiced/Masala Omelette in the Pakistani Manner

Masala Omelette

Blog post is in response to a request from my friend AFC- who loved his masala omelettes during his business trips to India.

I like to eat my masala omelette placed between two pieces of soft, untoasted bread and eaten like a sarnie with some sweet chili sauce. It’s a childhood thing, you know, that ‘nursery food’ texture we all remember. The masala omelette is to the Pakistani kitchen what pancakes are to an American kitchen. The only pancakes I ever had as a child were out of a box, and that too, slathered with Aunt Jemima’s Kitchen syrup.Read More

Ab Doogh Khiar- Cucumber Soup With Walnuts and Crunchy Shallots in the Persian Manner

Persian cucumber soup

Her name was Bridget but we called her Aunty Brige. Not pronounced ‘bridge’, like the one which connects two points across a river, but Brige, with a long ‘i’, as in liege. She was tall and wore lots of white, flowing dresses which looked beautiful with her crown of wavy, strawberry blonde hair. One could imagine her sitting elegantly next to a harp, with her fingers plucking at the strings. Aunty Brige had light eyes; I cannot remember if they were green or blue or hazel, and they were always hidden behind large spectacles.Read More

Aloo Tiki- Potato Cutlets in the Pakistani Manner

Aloo Tiki

Ami and Nani Ami

Ami and Nani Ami in Murree, Pakistan

It’s dreadfully difficult to find ice in Rome. It’s considered an American thing- ‘ma, tu sei Americana?‘, the server joked with my sister when she requested ice in her coca-cola. It was May, and my dear friend A and I were hosting a party on her terrace and we needed ice for making those sweet, tart mojitos. We were in a crisis- we had no idea where to get it from in Rome- and we needed lots of it.Read More