When I arrived in Pakistan this past May, one of the things I wanted to do most was immerse myself in the country’s food culture, particularly in Lahore. Lahore, one of the oldest cities in the Indian Subcontinent, is well known for its street food, and I was not immune to its charms. With its amalgamation of cultures and traditions that come with over a millennium of history, the walled city is overflowing with the type of culinary scene that makes adventurous food lovers and food historians like me salivate at the thought of it.
For Lahories and tourists - few as they may be - alike, eating out is necessity, entertainment and sport. The food experience in the old city is as much about the visual spectacle as it is about the food itself. Entrails, testicles, kidneys, hearts, mutton, and sundry meats greet you at stalls outfitted with large round griddles called tavas. Cooks, nay, performance artists, prepare the feast in front of your eyes while putting on a show. Dishes like takatak, named after the sound the paddle knives make against the tava as they cut the offal, become a vibrant mixture of meat doused in sauce. Payee, a slow-cooked stew of goat or mutton hoofs, sits heavy in cauldrons, waiting for roti or naan to soak it right up.
The visual theater continues with stalls showcasing colorful mixtures of foods unknown to my foreign eyes, including multiple types of halwa. The cooking techniques, too, are theatrical, as when a cross-legged seated man shapes hawal puri dough into a disc and throws it into hot frying oil with the grace of an interpretive dancer. Meanwhile, his partner delicately spoons out the cooked puri without interrupting the flow. It’s a choreography worthy of admiration.
But the street food scene also embodies a slightly less savory aspect of Pakistani society for many foreigners. Look around. This is a male world. I was traveling with five other women and we were often the only women around, especially at night. Even in a city that is much less conservative than other areas we visited. Unlike restaurants where women do frequent, even if they sit in a different dining space, the street food world in Lahore is almost universally male. From the cooks to the customers. To someone from a completely different culture, this is jarring. We did see some women one night, but they were eating their food in their car, along with their family. But this isn’t my world, and although as an obviously foreign woman I enjoyed a degree of privilege local women mostly don’t get, it is not my place to judge.
Lahore is an attack on the senses in all sorts of ways. The excess and richness of the food and the setting is almost suffocating, especially after having spent two weeks in the mountains, where food is simpler and less theatrical. I was enthralled. My only regret is that I only had two days in Lahore and could not see more. Experience more. Photograph more. Learn more. Eat more.
There is always next time.
What I’ve been Reading
This article by
, about food and authenticity. It’s pretty great, and a response to some Twitter (or is it X now?) “discourse” about butter chicken and garlic naan.I recently finished The Secret Life of Groceries: The Dark Miracle of the American Supermarket, by Benjamin Lorr. It’s a really engaging and well-researched story about how food gets on your shelves but centering the human aspect. It was great, I highly recommend it.
Miscellaneous
I have not been able to get a sourdough starter going despite many tries. A friend of mine finally gave me some and I’m happy to say I have been merrily baking sourdough bread. Let’s see how long I can keep the starter alive!
Thanks to Eat Your Books, I am (painfully) aware that my cookbook collection has surpassed 500 cookbooks. It says 508 currently, but the truth is it’s probably more like 530, counting books not in their database and my historical cookbooks. I DON’T HAVE A PROBLEM. I DON’T HAVE A PROBLEM. I DON’T HAVE A PROBLEM.
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Just love the photos in this one!