Customers enjoying their briyani at a restaurant in Karachi:
KARACHI: Eyeing each other across a stream of traffic, rival Pakistani briyani joints vie for customers, serving a fiery medley of meat, rice and spice that unites and divides South Asian appetites.
Both sell a niche version of the dish, steeped in the same vats, with matching prices and trophies commending their quality.
In Karachi, where a briyani craze boomed after the creation of Pakistan, it is the subtle differences that inspire devotion.
“Our briyani is not only different from theirs but unique in the world,” says restaurateur Muhammad Saqib, who layers his “bone marrow biryani” with herbs.
“When a person bites into it, he drowns in a world of flavours,” the 36-year-old says.
Across the road, Muhammad Zain sees it differently.
“We were the ones who started the briyani business here first,” the 27-year-old claims, as staff scoop out sharing platters with a gut-punch of masala.
Staff of an eatery preparing packets of briyani for the poor in Karachi. — AFP
It’s our own personal and secret recipe.”
Both agree on one thing.
“You can’t find briyani like Pakistan’s anywhere in the world,” says Saqib.
“Whether it’s a celebration or any other occasion, briyani always comes first,” according to Zain.
British colonial rule in South Asia ended in 1947 with a violent rupture of the region along religious lines.
Hindus and Sikhs in newly-created Pakistan fled to India while Muslim “Mohajirs” – refugees – went the other way.
India and Pakistan have been arch-rivals since, fighting wars and locked in endless diplomatic strife. Trade and travel have been largely choked off.
Many Mohajirs settled in Karachi, home to just 400,000 people in 1947 but one of the world’s largest cities today with a population of 20 million.
For Indian food historian Pushpesh Pant, briyani served in South Asia’s melting-pot cities such as Karachi is a reminder of shared heritage.
A staff member serving plates of briyani at a restaurant in Karachi. — AFP
“Hindus ate differently, Nanakpanthis (Sikhs) ate differently, and Muslims ate differently, but it was not as if their food did not influence each other,” he said from the city of Gurugram outside Delhi.
“In certain parts of Pakistan and certain parts of India, the differences in flavours and foods are not as great as man-made borders would make us think.”
Every Karachi neighbourhood has its own canteens fronted by vendors clanking a spatula against the inside of biryani pots.
The recipe has endless variations. The one with beef is a favourite in Muslim Pakistan, while vegetarian variants are more popular in largely Hindu India.
Chicken is universal. Along coastlines, seafood is in the mix.
Purists also debate if adding potatoes is heresy.
“Other than that, there is Pulao Briyani which is purely from Delhi,” says 27-year-old pharmacist Muhammad Al Aaqib, describing a broth-stewed variation.
“My roots lead back to Delhi too so it’s like the mother of biryanis for us.”
“Perhaps every person has a different way of cooking it, and their way is better,” says 36-year-old landlord Mehran Khoso.
The origins of briyani are hotly contested. However, it is generally accepted the word has Persian roots and it is argued the dish was popularised in the elite kitchens of the Mughal Empire, which spanned South Asia between the 16th and 19th centuries.
Asad cooking briyani for her family members at her house in Karachi. — AFP
In spite of that pedigree, its defining quality is permutation.
Quratul Ain Asad, 40, spends Sunday morning cooking for her husband and son, Mohajir descendants of a family that arrived in Karachi from the Indian town of Tonk in 1948.
But at the dinner table, they feast not on an heirloom recipe but a TV chef’s version with a cooling yoghurt sauce and a simple shredded salad.
Asad insists on Karachi’s briyani supremacy.
“You will not like briyani from anywhere else once you’ve tasted Karachi’s biryani,” she says.
“There is no secret ingredient. I just cook with a lot of passion and joy. Perhaps that’s why the taste comes out good.”
Customers enjoying their briyani at a restaurant in Karachi: (inset above) A plate of briyani is kept for customers at a restaurant in Karachi accompanied by yoghurt. — AFP
Cooked in bulk, biryani is also a staple of charity donations.
At Ghazi Foods, 28-year-old Ali Nawaz paddles out dozens of portions of biryani into plastic pouches, which are delivered to poor neighbourhoods on motorbikes.
A minute after one of those bikes stops, the briyani is gone, seized by children and young adults.
“People pray for us when they eat it,” says Nawaz. “It feels good that our biryani reaches the people.” — AFP
