Flavours of Punjab

You will find many of these items only in Punjabi homes where there are elderly folk who have lived in that part of Punjab which is now in Pakistan,” said Sharad Dewan. I was all ears. From kindergarten to class VI, my closest buddy was Kuldip Singh Bhabra, from a large and large-hearted Sikh family, and I was there so often that I might have got counted as one of the siblings. There were always hungry mouths to feed, mine included, and the kitchen was manned almost around the clock, and my serious weakness for Punjabi home cooking goes back to a formative and impressionable age. And it is still the same.

Simple, wholesome, nutritious, balanced and above all, delicious. Just think. Aloo paratha, aloo gobi, rajma, lassi. Or phulkas, chhole, palak aloo, lassi. Or phulkas, kali dal, baingan bharta, plain dahi. Desi ghee smeared on the phulkas — the ghee and all dairy products made from buffalo milk — homemade, of course. And the most divine pickles. I could go on and on.

I mentioned to Sharad that I had the impression that non-vegetarian fare was a once-or-twice-a-week occurrence in most Punjabi houses and he nodded in agreement. For the next couple of hours we talked and talked about the virtues of this excellent cuisine and the practices that go with it — the utensils used, the necessity of slow-fire cooking, the pounding of spices and other ingredients in the heavy iron mortar-and-pestle or hamam dasta, and of course, recipes.

“My father’s home was in Sindh and mother’s was in Lahore,” said Sharad, “the former leaning towards non-vegetarian fare and the latter predominantly vegetarian.”
A platter of Bharwan Bhindi and (top) a spread of Punjabi food. Pictures by Rashbehari Das
He went on to describe how vegetables which had a meaty texture were preferred on his father’s side. Such as green jackfruit (we Bengalis actually call it gaach pantha or “goat meat that grows on trees”) and lotus stem or bhein, which he remembers being cooked in three different ways. One, a dry preparation using only rai (the light-coloured mustard seeds) to temper the oil, and salt. Another dish with bhein was to put it in a thin gravy with onion and garlic, while a third was the elaborate business of making koftas, or balls resembling those made with minced meat, and preparing a curry.

And mukund vadi — spherical or slightly flattened pattie shaped out of mukund, a derivative of wheat gluten, having a meaty texture when shaped and cooked — delicious in a curry with potatoes, and a favourite with Punjabi families hailing from Pakistan.

And shalgam, the white turnip, a great ingredient for pickle along with cauliflower, a versatile vegetable, a good complement to meats — Mutton Shalgam being a popular dish, as also Shalgam ka Bharta, in which the vegetable is boiled and mashed, and then added to a sauce prepared by first tempering the oil with pounded coriander seeds, pounded red chillies and cumin seeds and then adding chopped garlic, onions and tomatoes. A healthy dose of chopped green coriander and green chillies is also thoroughly mixed in before serving with tandoori roti. How delectable is that!

And Bharwan Bhindi — fresh young medium-sized okra slit open and stuffed with a mixture of spices — raw mango powder (aamchoor), red chilli powder, ground black pepper, salt, cumin and freshly-pounded garam masala (consisting of as many as 10 spices). After stuffing, the okra is left to sweat for about half an hour, and then it is slowly cooked in mustard oil tempered with ajwain or cumin, in a tightly-covered iron kadhai, a must for many Punjabi dishes.

And Choori, a power-packed dessert which also serves as a meal for children because of its high food value. Lachha paratha with a healthy smearing of desi ghee combined with cumin and ajwain in between the paratha layers broken into pieces and combined with bhurra chini (unrefined sugar), more desi ghee and dry fruit.

A truly earthy, hearty and healthy cuisine, simple in approach and sublime on the taste buds. Sharad had many more delights to talk about — Pede wale Lassi famous in Lahore, Dhagewaley Karela, Kanji made with black carrots — all with a wistful and misty look in his eyes. But all good things must come to an end, as did our conversation, as did our lunch, which was at Saffron, The Park, and included some of the preparations as part of the festival featuring age-old items served along the Grand Trunk Road. Sharad is the hotel’s executive chef. On the way home, I bought myself an iron kadhai.