Mogs Does the World

Hot, deep curries speak of an incandescent, smokey land and low income farmers. Green vegetable medleys talk about lush wet pastures and herbivore accompaniments. Fish head stew, a Malaysian favourite, murmurs in memory of living on the periphery of water and making use of every part of the animal.

I know of the Pakistani people.I know of their generous nature.I know of their skill to turn simple ingredients into a delectable feast.I feel religion, special occasion and guests in the nature of each dish. Behind closed eyes and with a morsel of chapati dissolving on my tongue i can see a dusky sunset overlooking the busy port of Karachi.I am welsh.I have never been to Pakistan.

I am fortunate to have a very talented pakistani aunt.Food is the biggest gift aunty talented gives us all.Her ability to prepare 3 or 4 days of food before our arrival in order to spend the least time in the kitchen and the most time with us, always amazed my mother and I.Untill i became a chef myself, i didn’t appreciate her aptitude at turning one joint of meat into 2 meals or leaving the bin hungry for scraps.

The biggest distraction on arrival, is always the stewing nihari, which would have been basking since the day before, talking is difficult with a flood of saliva in my mouth.The children would enjoy imported genuine barfi while us ladies enjoyed honey sweetened green tea, though i still look wistfully at the crunchy, salty pistachios bathed in sweetened milk.Dinner always has me in awe, least of all how the sore old legs of the table can contain the weight of the banquet.

Aunty talented is an embodiment of her country and a representation of how pakistani families care for eachother.I feel like I could walk into Pakistan and be able to have a conversation with any(english speaking) person i came across, I may know the food, know what I like, find places I could feel at home.I can even paint a(simple) mehndi.