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.

As a child, the only cooking Ami and I did together in the kitchen was when she made eggs or French Toast. Our housekeeper, Amma Parveen used to have the weekends off and that’s when Ami and I’d get deep into the kitchen.

Well, not quite in the way you think…

Please erase that vision of Ami and I standing in the kitchen in our matching pink pinnies. Nope. I was a brat, and that’s why I was in the kitchen with her: “Ami, the edges of the omelette aren’t dark enough…” or “Ami, you didn’t put enough dhania (coriander) in the omelette.” And then there was, “Ami, you overcooked the egg yolk, now I shan’t eat it.”

What a nightmare I was. I’m sure Ami wanted to smack me and make me watch Fred Flinstone or something else mind-numbing instead of annoying her in the kitchen during breakfast time. But she didn’t.

Ami always made everything perfectly right- she knew I liked my French Toast a little bit soggy in the middle, crisp around the edges and my Masala Omelette without tomatoes and sandwiched between two pieces of bread. And she always put just the right amount of sweet chili sauce on it, too.

There I sat with Ami, in front of the telly, watching the Flintstone’s, whilst washing the masala omelette down with a tall glass of Nesquik strawberry milk. (I know, I know, but now I drink grown-up strawberry milk- here’s my friend’s recipe.)

Only a mother can tolerate such bratty behaviour, and it’s not just on Mother’s Day that I think of this…

Here is her recipe, I’ve added the pinch of haldi in it, which she wouldn’t approve of, but I know she’ll forgive me for being fiddly with it.

A similar dish is called khagina- which is a spiced scramble egg- please forgive me for the bland photos, it was my first ever post – I now cringe when I look at those earlier photos.

Serves 1; this recipe can easily be doubled.

Ingredients:
*2 medium-sized eggs
*half a small onion, minced
*¼ cup fresh coriander, chopped finely
*½ green thai bird chili minced. If you’re a chili-head like me, add one whole chili. Use shears to cut this straight into the bowl, so you don’t burn your fingertips.
*pinch haldi; turmeric powder (found in most Pakistani/Indian/Persian grocery stores)
*½ tsp cayenne pepper
*½ tsp salt
*1 tsp ghee or 1 tbsp neutral oil (sunflower or corn)

Preparation:
*Pre-heat your grill/broiler.
*Beat two eggs in a small bowl and add onion, coriander, green chili, haldi, cayenne and salt. Whisk well.
*Place a small frying pan on medium heat and add ghee/oil.
*Pour egg mixture into frying pan and keep swirling till the egg mixture is well distributed. Don’t touch the mixture with your spatula.
*After 2-3 minutes, you will see the edges begin to crisp up. At this point, you can either flip the omelette over, or if you want to be cautious, place it under the grill till golden, about 2 minutes.
*Serve with bread of your choice.

I am featured on my favourite website this morning- The Kitchn. Click here.

Zain, my husband and I never go out for brunch on weekends — because Saturday and Sunday are the two days when he gets deep into the kitchen and prepares all sorts of omelettes for us. We call them “farmers’ omelettes” because they are prepared with whatever is in our fridge that particular morning (no farm here, sadly). Some days it is caramelised shallots and roasted tomatoes with brie folded in, which softly oozes out with each bite; other days it is mushroom, thyme and Swiss cheese. And there is always a little bit of caramelized garlic in them.

One morning, in the mood for an omelette in the Italian manner — a frittata, I entered the kitchen with Zain to prepare it. He took out Roma tomatoes, Irani feta and the fresh herb of the week, tarragon. Zain peeled the roma tomatoes with a potato peeler while I whipped the eggs. After pouring a few globs of olive oil into the frying pan, I added the chopped Roma tomatoes. Over a slow flame, as we sipped our cardamom tea, the tomatoes slumped and yielded, becoming soft and jam–like. In went the eggs and as Zain swirled the pan with a flick of his wrist, I added lots of soft, creamy, crumbled Irani feta. As it began to come together along the sides, we transferred it under the broiler for ten minutes. Flipped over onto a plate was a thick circle of eggy goodness—a sort of savoury custard, garnished with strands of fragrant tarragon. And since we had just returned from Istanbul, we had to give the frittata a dusting of pul biber, the prized semi–moist, red chili flakes from Turkey. We scooped up the custard–like frittata with our favorite pumpernickel bread using our hands.

This post was featured in Oliver Thring’s weekly round-up. Oliver Thring writes for the Guardian and iStarvin’.

“Always keep some whipped butter next to the sink,” Aunty Bhupinder tells me as I lament over my dry hands after my move to Toronto. “Once you’re done with cooking,” she continues, “wash your hands and smear a little bit of whipped butter all over them.” Following the advice of someone I love like a grandmother, I slather some whipped butter on my hands. But in vain. Aunty Bhupinder’s hands are soft; like cake batter before it goes into the oven. No amount of whipped butter will soften mine up like hers.

As school-going children in Nairobi, while our parents were traveling, we would stay with Aunty Bhupinder and her husband. Upon our request, every night she would make us parathas and dal, with her mother’s secret mix of garam masala. The same garam masala she still brings back from Delhi for me every year, even though her mother is no longer with us. Our cook would come every night, lovingly, to ask if we wanted him to prepare us a meat-based dish; but we only wanted Aunty Bhupinder’s vegetarian food. Just before dinner we’d peek into her prayer room and watch her kneeling next to the Guru Grant Sahib, head covered in a chiffon dupatta, wondering when she’d be down in the kitchen to spoil us and prepare the flaky parathas and dal tempered with spiced butter.

The Golden Temple, Amritsar, India- from www.wayfaring.info

It is these same hands which I have seen rolling dough for a paratha since I was a child. On each wrist she wears a thick golden bangle, with two elephant heads joining each bracelet together, and in her ears are diamond studs. Her hair is pinned back neatly in a bun, like a swiss roll sliced thin. A rust-hued lipstick, her eyes deep set and beautiful, her eyelashes glossy and long; belying her age.

As I sit on the table in her white kitchen in Washington DC, I watch Aunty Bhupinder as she rolls the dough for the paratha, forming it into a snake-like coil then folding it repeatedly to get those papery thin layers. Every few minutes she turns her head, her hands working the dough and says, “Shayma, please have some orange juice…can I get you some fruit?” I smile and walk towards the fruitbowl in the dining room.

Like a grandmother to me, I know better than to refuse her offer.

She carefully places each paratha, or ‘paronthees’ as she calls them, on a plate, the omelette clinging to it, all unctuous and golden.  Specially for me. She knows her kati rolls are among one of my favourite dishes prepared by her.

And on goes the spiced chicken, with a drizzle of jade-green mint chutney; paudinay ki chutney…

Then some fresh onions for crunch; tomatoes (her addition, not traditionally added in Kolkata); green chilies for heat; and fresh cilantro for freshness.

The ultimate street food-snack…rolled up…

Cut in half…

Ready for tucking into…

We end the meal with a cup of tea, into which she adds a pinch of ground whole cardamom powder, brought back from Delhi. I leave Washington DC, always, with a ziploc containing the pistachio green, fragrant powder.

With my maternal and paternal grandmothers long gone, I am grateful to still have one with me, Aunty Bhupinder.

Serves 4
You will need parathas or chapatis. I use store-bought parathas.
For mint chutney- in a blender, puree a bushel of mint with some water, salt and 1 green chili. Mix this with some yoghurt for paudinay ki chutney, which is what we use for the kati roll.

Ingredients:
4 chicken thighs or legs (use dark meat)
1 cup yoghurt
1 tsp salt
1 tsp garam masala
1 tsp minced garlic (or garlic paste from the jar)
1 tsp minced ginger (or ginger paste from the jar)
Small bushel of chopped, fresh coriander leaves and stems (enough for the chicken marinade, omelette and for garnishing the kati roll. Use proportions as you please.)
2+2 tiny green chilies, chopped
1/2 tsp freshly cracked black pepper
1/2 tsp tandoori masala (in powder form, not paste)
2 tbsp + 4 tsp corn oil (or any other neutral oil)
4 parathas (or chapatis)
4 eggs
1/2 tsp red chili powder
Pinch salt
1 medium onion sliced into thin rings
Mint chutney (paudinay ki chutney)
2 medium tomatoes sliced thin, into disks

Preparation:
Step 1: Prepare the pulled-chicken:
*In a large bowl, add yoghurt, garam masala, garlic&ginger paste, fresh coriander, 2 chopped green chilies, salt, cracked black pepper and tandoori masala powder with chicken thighs.
*Marinate 3-5 hours or preferably, overnight.
*Place a pan over medium-high heat with 2 tbsp oil. Add chicken plus the marinade.
*Allow to cook, uncovered, for 20 minutes. When the chicken has absorbed all the juices and is almost dry, take off the flame.
*Remove meat from bones, shred by hand and set aside.

Step 2: Prepare the paratha and omelette:
*Beat 4 eggs with red chili powder, pinch salt (to taste) and chopped cilantro.
*Bear in mind that you will be making 4 omelettes, respectively, for each kati roll.
*Place a non-stick frying pan on medium heat. The diameter of the pan should be the same as your paratha or chapati.
*Add 1 tsp of oil per omelette, to the pan.
*Slowly pour in 1/4 of the egg mix and swirl, to cover the pan. As soon as you see that the bottom of the omelette is set and the top is still soft and custard-like, place the the paratha on top, it will cling to the omelette.
*Gently insert a spatula underneath the omelette and flip it over. Let the paratha bronzen a bit, then remove from flame. The omelette will be clinging to the paratha now.

Step 3: Assemble kati roll:
*In a plate, place the paratha with the omelette side up.
*Add pulled-chicken, then dot with some mint chutney.
*Add onions, tomatoes, coriander and chopped green chillies. Drizzle some more mint chutney on top.
*Roll and eat warm.

If you are preparing these for a crowd, you can prepare the paratha and omelette and serve this to your guests. Place all the accoutrements in a dish for your guests to assemble themselves at the table.

Breakfast in a Pakistani Home

“Halwa puri!,” Baba and Kaka (father’s elder brother in Dari) would holler from the bottom of the stairwell in our family home in Lahore. The two brothers had made it a weekend ritual to go together to Ghalib Market to bring their six daughters halwa puri for breakfast after their morning run in Race Course Park.

A year and a half apart in age, here they are, sweet and as thick as thieves and honey.

(Mader really hoped for a girl before my father was born- perhaps the reason why my poor father had to suffer wearing a girl’s “bouffant” of sorts, till he was old enough to say “no more!”).

Groggy and still in our beds, the words ‘halwa puri‘ would lead us down the long vertical staircase. Into the breakfast room we would go in our pjs with plush shawls wrapped around us on that cold Lahore morning. We would excitedly unwrap the newspaper encasing the puris and place one on each plate.

Tearing off a piece of the puffed up golden bread with our fingers, we would scoop up the sweet halwa. Made with semolina, the halwa was all soft and buttery with white flecks of almond, dotted with black cardamom seeds.

The adults would drink a strong milky tea with it and we’d settle for glasses of lukewarm milk, you know, the kind all kids hate.

The conversation would fluctuate between Punjabi, English and Dari and us kids would walk out of the breakfast room with greasy fingers towards the washroom.

Then back to our beds.

Here in Toronto, I wake up some mornings thinking of Baba and Kaka and the little things they did for the six of us. The halwa puri runs, the midnight drives to Barqat, the paan wallah in Main Market for a Pineapple Crush pop on the side; the family walks from our home in Gulberg to Mini Market to buy 20 sweeties for 5 rupees. Mitchell’s raspberry bon bons were my favourite.

To this day I love it when Barqat sees me in Main Market and says, “Where are Sarosh Bibi and Owaise Sahab, why haven’t they come for a paan?”

So very far from home, here is what we have in our home on Saturday mornings:

Chunks of tomato spiced with turmeric, a bit of chili, paprika and some fragrant caramelised onions…

Topped with fresh, cracked eggs…

Baked till soft, with yolks as pudgy as a baby’s belly…

A scattering of fresh coriander leaves, a verdant flavour which always reminds me of Pakistan…

Eaten with roghani naan…

Here are three other lovely versions of baked eggs which I love, by some of my fave bloggers: Glutton for Life, Taste of Beirut and Tamarind and Thyme.

Photos of halwa puri: from Kar_jony, Karachi Metblogs.

Photos of Race Course Park: from www.Pashtohomes.com.

Serves 5

Pre-heat your oven to 350F / 180C

Ingredients:

*2 tbsp corn (or other neutral) oil
*4 medium-sized tomatoes (approximately 600g / 1lb), blanched, skins peeled, and diced
*1/4 of a small onion, finely chopped
*1/4 tsp salt
*1/8 tsp (pinch) turmeric; haldi powder
*1/4 tsp red chili pepper
*1/4 tsp hot paprika
*5 eggs
*Fresh coriander leaves chopped, for garnish
*Salted butter for smearing on baking dish. I use an 11 1/2 inch quiche dish.

Preparation:
*Place 8-inch frying pan on medium heat.
*Add 2 tbsp oil and chopped onions, saute till translucent and slightly golden.
*Add chopped tomatoes.
*Add salt, haldi, red chili pepper and paprika.
*Stir for 7-10 minutes over a medium-high heat. The tomatoes should keep their shape somewhat.
*Smear butter all over the bottom and sides of the quiche dish.
*Transfer the chopped tomato sauce to the dish.
*Gently crack open the eggs one by one on to the tomato base.
*Place in oven for 15-20 minutes for a soft yolk and 20-25 for a more cooked yolk.
*Sprinkle with chopped coriander leaves.

The French have their pillowy, like-a-curdled-creme, soufflé-like version of scrambled eggs. The Latin Americans have their huevos revueltos; the Colombians serve theirs with pillowy arepas. Us Pakistanis & Afghans have our own version of scrambled eggs, called Khagina.

To prepare Khagina one needs just a few simple, fresh ingredients: eggs, tomatoes, onions, green chilies and fresh coriander/cilantro. Add cumin and the dish is lifted with an aromatic spice. It is comfort food, a dish which evokes fragrant memories of childhood in Lahore. The eggs are mopped up with chapati; a Pakistani whole-wheat flat bread or cushioned on crusty bread, sliced thick. Khagina is a much-loved dish which can be eaten for breakfast and just as easily served as an entrée for lunch or dinner. It is the layering of flavours; nutty, chili and herbal, which make this a rather special dish. I’ve always managed to find these ingredients in my fridge; a perfect dish to whip up not only for brekkers, but also on that night when you get in very late from work.

Making Khagina requires an indulgent amount of butter, but if you want to employ healthy cooking techniques, use 2-3 tbsps of olive oil. You will need a 7-8 inch non-stick frying pan.

Serves 4
Prep time: 15 minutes
Active time: 15 minutes

Ingredients:
* 6 eggs, (preferably free-range)
* 1/2 teaspoon salt
* 3 tablespoons butter (or olive oil)
* 1 small white onion, finely chopped
* 2 teaspoons cumin seed (zeera)
* 1 medium tomato, finely chopped
* 2-3 tablespoons fresh cilantro/coriander, (both leaves&stems)
* 2-3 thai bird chillies, sliced straight into the mixture in the pan with kitchen shears.

Preparation:
*Break the eggs into a bowl, add salt and whisk lightly together, just enough so that the yolks combine with the whites;

* Place pan over a fairly medium heat, add the butter (or olive oil) and tilt the pan from side to side so the pan is coated evenly. As soon as the butter stops foaming and begins to turn a nutty brown, add the onions and stir for 5-7 minutes till soft and golden;

*Add the cumin seeds and fry for 2 minutes till aromatic;

*To this, add the tomatoes and stir till warmed over and slightly soft. Turn the heat to low;

*Add cilantro, the egg mixture and chilies;

*Continue to stir the eggs swiftly, for another 5-7 minutes, until they are at the point of setting and resemble a soft custard. Make sure to keep scraping the bottom and sides of the pan. Serve immediately; while warm and creamy.