Monday, January 6, 2014

Qazi Sahib – Javed Chaudhry

Enemies of joy

Ghazi Salahuddin

Again and again, there is this evidence that we are not able or allowed to live like normal, civilised individuals. Our rights as citizens of a free and democratic nation are usurped on a daily basis. But the spectacle that is staged by the authorities on New Year’s Eve in Karachi is diabolical in its manifestation of a certain mindset that borders on mental sickness.

One simply wonders: who are these people who design such vile stratagems, ostensibly in the name of law and order, to deny people an opportunity to have some entertainment and fun on an occasion that is universally celebrated? In fact, the idea seems to be to inflict pain and discomfort on a large scale. Do they see New Year as some kind of a social and cultural bereavement?

Now, it is true that what happened at the advent of 2014 in Karachi has become an annual affair. The citizens have learnt to live with this bothersome incongruity. All the measures that were taken were like an action replay. The drill has become a ritual. So, why should one be so angry about it? After all, the national sense of direction, marked by increasing intolerance and obscurantism, also serves as an incentive for such restrictions.

However, I feel that the absence of a serious debate on the state of our society is increasingly subverting the ability of the administration to deal with its challenges in a larger context. The focus on politics – and that too in a perfunctory and trivial manner –has prevented our decision makers from a proper understanding of how a modern society must function and how social capital should be generated to support intellectual and moral development.

Perhaps we do not have sufficient intellectual resources to deal effectively with the present crisis of Pakistan. Our institutes of higher education are woefully deficient in the sphere of social sciences and humanities. The intelligentsia that we have is small and peripheral in its impact on our collective thinking and social behaviour. In this environment, we are left to be amused by the wisdom of the likes of Shaikh Rashid and the other usual suspects who chew the cud on our news channels.

This is not to belittle the importance of major issues that relate to our national security and foreign policy. On the first day of 2014, we were reminded of the peril of sectarian terrorism. There are implications in how the case of treason against a former military ruler would proceed. We had this exciting twist in the tale when Pervez Musharraf left his farmhouse for the court and arrived at a military hospital.

As an aside, just consider the monumental problems that the state must confront to bring Pervez Musharraf from his residence to the court, in spite of the massive security apparatus that is at its disposal. Also imagine the cost that such arrangements entail. This is another parable for the loss of authority of the rulers of a nuclear country that also has one of the largest standing armies of the world. A social scientist, if the rulers would want to listen to one, may be able to explain the meaning of simultaneous increase in violent disorder as well as the presence of uniformed men on the streets.

Similarly, the scenes that were enacted in the vicinity of Seaview in Karachi on the last evening of the departing year could figure in a Powerpoint presentation on the quixotic plan that was devised by the security officials of the city. It would appear that they had unlimited resources in terms of men and material to control the movement of a section of the populace. It would not matter if people were not able to reach their homes or deal with emergency situations. Ah, this may even be an intentional tactic to punish a large number of them for wanting to have some fun and happiness at a time when the whole world was in a playful and joyous mood.

In some ways, the security arrangements violated the right of the people to live their lives. Even those who did not have any intention to join a party or the awami hullabaloo on the beach had to suffer. In a paradoxical sense, the officials succeeded in making New Year memorable for so many people. There must have been many stories to tell about that evening. Those who had an opportunity to watch the new year being celebrated in different countries, with fireworks and jubilant crowds in numerous freezing climes, could think that we live in a country in which having fun is a crime.

Of course, security concerns were said to be at the heart of these arrangements. On the face of it, this is a valid reason. But the protectors of law and order, who themselves live in a security bubble, did not perhaps have the wisdom or the imagination to be able to create safe spaces in which ordinary people could have a communal experience of a celebration. That many can be rowdy or riotous on such occasions is also because they have not been properly socialised and provided the right means to express their feelings.

It is easier to block main roads, close down eating places and stop people from gathering at one place than to improve the security situation through innovative means. We may also refer to the ongoing operation in Karachi. Was it not the failure of our security agencies to arrest the decline and fall of law and order in the first place?

My point, essentially, is to underline the importance of collective activities to infuse light and joy in ordinary lives. This would be possible when rule of law is established. At one level, our rulers’ constant appeasement of the fanatics is the real tragedy. The manner in which Lahore has been robbed of its Basant is a reflection of the failure of our nation to move forward in a cultural context.

It is pointless to argue that celebrating New Year is not our culture, though this argument would not be valid in the case of Basant. I refer to New Year only in a generic sense. What is important is to allow people whatever justification they may have to enrich their lives and pursue happiness through legitimate means. Living with so much distress and anxiety, our people do deserve some moments of joy. And a glint of hope with which New Year is universally identified.

Email: ghazi_salahuddin@hotmail. com

The mystery of Raiwind palace ownership
By: IFTIKHAR A. KHAN and KALBE ALI

ISLAMABAD: The ownership of the Raiwind palace spread over thousands of acres is a mystery because it has never been mentioned in the statements of assets and liabilities of Prime Minister Nawaz Sharif and other members of his family in politics.

Even latest declarations submitted by Nawaz Sharif, his brother Shahbaz Sharif, son-in-law Captain Mohammad Safdar and nephew Hamza Shahbaz to the Election Commission of Pakistan are silent on the ownership title of the huge property.

But Information Minister Pervez Rasheed told Dawn that the property was in the name of Shamim Sharif, mother of the Sharif brothers.

The statements of assets show that the Sharif brothers have much in common. Both live in houses not owned by them. Nawaz Sharif lives in a house owned by his mother while Shahbaz Sharif resides in a house owned by his spouse Nusrat.

Both use Land Cruisers gifted to them by unspecified persons. Both have multiple foreign and local currency accounts, own huge agricultural land and have investments in industrial units like sugar, textile and paper mills.

The most visible dissimilarity is the rapid growth in the value of assets owned by the elder brother and continuous decline in the value of assets possessed by the younger brother. Another dissimilarity is that Shahbaz Sharif has two properties in the United Kingdom, but Nawaz Sharif has no assets abroad.

Till the time of elections in May last year, Shahbaz was richer than Nawaz — though none of them a billionaire — but things are different now. According to the recent declaration, the value of Nawaz Sharif’s wealth has registered a six-fold increase in just 12 months to make him a billionaire for the first time.

According to statements of assets and liabilities, the net worth of Nawaz Sharif’s assets was Rs261.6 million in 2012 and of Shahbaz Sharif Rs336.9m.

In 2011, the assets of the two brothers were worth Rs166m and Rs393m, indicating an increase of Rs95.6m and decrease of Rs56.5m, respectively.

In 2013, the value of assets of Nawaz Sharif ballooned to Rs1.82bn while that of Shahbaz Sharif slipped further to Rs142m.

Incidentally, Shahbaz Sharif has more stakes abroad than in the country. He owns properties and bank account worth Rs138.28m in the UK. He has three loans worth 117.10m in Pakistani rupees in British banks.

The younger brother has not disclosed the value of five

properties with net area of around 676 kanal in Lahore – all gifted by his mother.

He has Rs51.96m cash in hand and Rs7.27m in his sole bank account in the country.

Mrs Nusrat, the first wife of Mr Shahbaz, had assets worth Rs273.46m on June 30 last year. It was Rs224.56m a year earlier. She has Rs14.34m cash in hand and Rs1.95m in her five bank accounts.

The assets of Mrs Tehmina, the second wife of Shahbaz Sharif, are worth Rs9.83m. They were Rs7.64m last year.

She has five bank accounts – two in Pound Sterling, one in dollar and two in Pak rupees, but the money in these accounts is only Rs23,770. She has cash in hand and prize bonds worth Rs750,000 and two cars.

Kalsoom Nawaz, the wife of Nawaz Sharif, has net wealth of Rs235.85m, which is much less than that of Mrs Nusrat Shahbaz.

Mrs Kalsoom has land and a house in Changa Gali, Abbottabad, worth Rs63.75m, a bungalow on Mall Road in Murree worth Rs100m, 88 kanal of land in Sheikhupura worth Rs70m, jewellery of Rs1.5m and shares in family businesses.

She has Rs67,555 cash in hand and Rs55,765 in banks.

Hamza Shahbaz is wealthier than his father with net assets of Rs250.46m. He has two wives. The wealth of his first wife is Rs2.45m and that of the second is Rs9.88m.

Capt Safdar’s wealth is worth Rs14.23m. He owns a car which his wife Marium received as a gift from the UAE.

Published On : www.dawn.com

Movie Review – The Hobbit: The Desolation of Smaug
In the middle of “The Hobbit: The Desolation of Smaug” – or should I say, a smaller part stitched out of a bigger picture for cinematic convenience – there is a shining love story between a dwarf and an elf; make that literally shining, with color blooms and halos. The elf is a royal warrior Tauriel (Evangeline Lilly), an original invention of director Peter Jackson and writers Fran Walsh, Philippa Boyens and Guillermo del Toro, and akin to most moviemaking liberties Mr. Jackson takes with J.R.R. Tolkien’s material the addition of one lonesome character, and a small love story, is a welcome breather amongst a lot of running, slicing and dicing.

“The Desolation of Smaug” follows up “The Hobbit: An Unexpected Journey”, where Mr. Jackson takes the long scenic route to set-up Mr. Tolkien’s less applauded characters with some background support from key players from “The Lord of the Rings”. Those faces, along with the resonating, sweeping trademark score from Howard Shore are intentionally replaced by a lot of actual sweeping. For a good number of scenes Mr. Jackson (and his regular cinematographer, the Oscar winning Andrew Lesine) wooshes the camera across impossible to place positions – dangling from over the top fixtures, speeding through low angles, imprudently edited location establishing shots, and even between peoples’ conversations. The fanatical drive to add hyper-dynamism to an already grim – and overly CGI crowded movie – is headache inducing and amateurish.

Mr. Jackson, who runs through most of “The Desolation of Smaug”, from one action sequence to the other, consigns some dramatics into his hero’s journey: Bilbo Baggins (Martin Freeman), and a company of dwarves led by Thorin Oakenshield (a semi-gruff Richard Armitage) and Gandalf the Grey (Ian McKellen), travel to Lonely Mountain Erebor, to kill the dragon Smaug (Benedict Cumberbatch) and reclaim their land (or to be precise, their mountain and mines). On their way, unlike Mr. Jackson’s other Tolkien middle picture “The Two Towers”, there is very slight prominence to his semi-important characters. (There are exceptions: one is a local town anti-government trader named Bard, played with somberness and severity by Luke Evans; the other is Elven King, Thranduil, played by Lee Pace, who hams it up as if he’s playing a self-centered fashionista).

About 6 hours into “The Hobbit” now, I’m still unable to pinpoint who-is-who in the dwarves. Instead of working them up, the screenplay substitutes Legolas (Orlando Bloom) as a zipping, Olympic-level gymnast elf-of-action, capable of taking down a horde of Orcs without messing up his hair.

A point to be noted, is that Legolas isn’t a part of The Hobbit books (he is fleetingly mentioned), however his appendage – and that of Tauriel – buffs up and unstiffens “The Desolation of Smaug” from its one-point agenda (there are some more liberties, spun-out but held back because they will play-out in “To There and Back Again”, due out next year).

At times, however, there are just too many distractions in “The Desolation of Smaug”; while the dragon, with Mr. Cumberbatch’s hypnotic, imposing, voice is one of the finest flying horrors of his movie-brethren (including Sean Connery’s Draco from “Dragonheart”), the overdrive of CG (including the Orcs, who were aesthetically better when people in make-up played them), fake action and the high frame rate of 48 frames per second (as compared to 24 frames per second, the usual norm), makes every shot seem like it is plucked out of a nex-gen video game, and not the plausible reality Mr. Jackson had worked so hard to create the last time.

I believe Mr. Jackson needs to take a step back and look at the bigger picture: the grandeur of Mr. Tolkien’s works, and Mr. Jackson’s own originality, is muscular enough to stand on its own without newfangled cinematic shenanigans – no matter if its looks good on paper, or in his imagination.

Released by Warner Bros. “The Hobbit: The Desolation of Smaug” is rated PG-13 for intense action, including beheading of fake fantasy creatures.

Directed by Peter Jackson; Produced by Mr. Jackson, Carolynne Cunningham, Zane Weiner, and Ms. Walsh; Written by Fran Walsh, Philippa Boyens, Guillermo del Toro and Mr. Jackson (based on the novel by J. R. R. Tolkien); Cinematography by Andrew Lesnie; Edited by Jabez Olssen; Music by Howard Shore.

Starring: Ian McKellen, Martin Freeman, Richard Armitage, Benedict Cumberbatch (as the voice of Smaug), Evangeline Lilly, Lee Pace, Luke Evans, Stephen Fry, Ken Stott, James Nesbitt, Orlando Bloom and Mikael Persbrandt, amongst others.

Reviewed by: MOHAMMAD KAMRAN JAWAID

A trial like no other
CYRIL ALMEIDA

CONVICT him. Lock him up in a cell and throw away the key. Let him get his comeuppance. Deterrence, justice, revenge — maybe it’s one, maybe it’s another, maybe it’s all three. Either way, the crime fits the man.

Or let him go. Everyone was on board in ’99. After ’07, he was gone in less than a year. It was, originally, a political crime — and the polity was his accomplice. Then, the polity moved on and that was that.

Musharraf. What are folk trying to get him for: seizing power or what he did with the power he seized?

The good thing about systems, the anti-coup democrats will argue, is that outcomes aren’t necessarily shaped by motives. Putting Musharraf on trial for the wrong reasons can still lead to the right outcome: less army influence, more civilian control.

The bad thing about systems, the realists will argue, is that outcomes aren’t necessarily shaped by motives. Putting Musharraf on trial for the right reasons can still lead to the wrong outcome: more civilian arrogance, more army antsiness.

But, first, we need to understand the system. And before that, because people populate the system, we need to understand the players.

There’s only one person who will make the decision whether Musharraf will be tried or not: Nawaz. And if anyone thinks he knows what Nawaz is thinking, he’s kidding himself. Like, really. The already notoriously closed-up has taken on a Sphinx-like air of mystery this time round.

Somewhere inside Nawaz is a decision-making centre that combines the personal with the visceral and a folksy understanding of systems. When you throw the Musharraf-trial complexities and angles and doubts and intentions into that decision-making centre, what will prevail in the end is anyone’s guess.

So expect to see Musharraf smoking a cigar in London soon or expect to see him on trial. Be surprised by neither.

But back to the system — because not knowing what Nawaz will decide doesn’t mean we can’t figure out what’s at stake.

Whether Musharraf is tried or not, the democratic project will continue. Nobody really thinks that a Musharraf trial would prompt Gen Sharif to oust PM Sharif.

Whether Musharraf is tried or not will though affect civil-military relations. If you can try a general — and not just any general, but one of the Club of Four — things change; power flows towards you some and away from the generals.

But there’s a third corner to this triangle, the one few ever focus on: the people.

It’s not just civil vs military or civ-mil imbalance; it’s civil and military seeking legitimacy and power from the people to control the state.

That contest is often cast as one rooted in results: when the civilians fail to deliver, intervention by the generals is accepted; when the generals end up covered in much of the same mud, a return to civilian options is embraced.

But the army gets away with it for a different reason (in addition to the fact that they have guns and are organised and are manipulative): an old, accepted and internalised tradition of a two-tiered governance system. Old enough to have its own entry in Encyclopaedia Britannica and its own name: dyarchy.

Essentially, running the state is divided into two halves: the authoritarian and the popularly responsible. It starts with weak institutions. Because they are weak, the pols are handed the softer stuff — education, health, jobs, small infrastructure — while the big boys keep a watchful gaze over the big-ticket items — security, revenue for state continuity, foreign policy.

Matters stumble along for a while. Then, when the pols inevitably stutter because institutions are weak and their own capacities limited, the big boys intervene, stepping in with their benign authoritarianism and smoothing things over.

But here’s the thing with dyarchy: it is not supposed to fundamentally fix things or transform realities. It is about stop-gap and backstop. It is about a system in which mediocre is considered safer than aiming for more. It is about saving from rather than aspiring to.

And it’s bloody hard to dislodge from the minds of everyone: the army, which believes in its benign-authoritarian mission as defender of the last resort; the pols, who deep down aren’t really convinced of their ability to fix stuff; and the people, who want better but will settle for OK.

Now plug a Musharraf trial into that system.

He deserves to be tried, he should be tried and it would be great to see him tried — for ’99. Even then, if ’07 is all the system can muster up the courage to try him for, it’s a compromise worth taking. Remember, the alternative is no trial, which the other three in the Club of Four got.

But from trial to no coup or more coup would be a stretch. For the system is dyarchy and the system is accepted. Benign authoritarianism by the army and about-par competence by the pols.

Turning that around, changing the system, would require first understanding what it is rooted in. Results matter, yes, but so do perceptions. Of the people.

Hand on their heart, most folk today would accept that the civilians are legitimate rulers and dictatorships a bad idea. But would they flat out reject the possibility of accepting another coup ever, no matter what the mitigating circumstances or justifications?

That’s modern-day dyarchy. And getting Musharraf will be a helluva lot easier than ever switching that around.

cyril.a@gmail.com

Twitter: @cyalm

Biryani, to love or to love a little more?

If you are from the subcontinent, foodie or not, you may have asked yourself this question: What is it about biryani that we love so much?

The legendary Mumtaz Mahal may be credited for the modern day biryani, she believed that it was a complete food and was thus suited best for troop consumption every night, during wartime and peace. That is the story on modern day biryani, but where did it actually originate?

The word biryani comes from the Persian word birian, which means frying the food before cooking it, and by cooking this writer implies the process of dum, the traditional method to make biryani. History suggests that the method of dum and the name comes from Arab or Persian style of cooking, and may have travelled to the Indian subcontinent from Persia through Afghanistan, or from ancient Arabia to Kerala through the Arabian Sea with Arab traders. Nonetheless in Persian, birian means frying before cooking, hence the method to cook biryani.

Today, we boil the rice before the process of dum but historically when biryani was prepared the unwashed rice was initially fried in butter or ghee, before boiling. It was believed that frying the rice gave it a nutty flavor and also burnt the starch gelatinising the outer layer of the rice.

Separately, a lamb leg was set to sit in a marinade of curd, spices and papaya and then cooked to tenderness. Once the meat was cooked, it was layered with the half-cooked rice, garnished with droplets of rose water, saffron and mace, these spices gave it an almost flowery and royal essence, and then sealed in a handi and set on low flame until the rice was fully cooked and plumped, and ready to be served.

Biryani has variations from different regions of the subcontinent, all claiming that their twist on it is the best. Recent history of biryani dating to the 18th and 19th century tells us many a stories as to how the rice dish gained popularity far and wide in the region. Lucknow, was called Awadh and since the Mughuls were ruling at the time, the royal palace introduced us to the Awadhi Biryani. It is also said that before the advent of Mumtaz Mahal, the grand daughter-in-law of the great Akbar, he made Asfa Jahi the Nizaam of the great state of Hyderabad. The Nizaam wanted his state to own the royal dish thus, he had his kitchen give it a twist and the outcome is the legendaryHyderabadi Biryani. Tipu Sultan of Karnataka spread the biryani to Mysore, giving us the Mysoree Biryani, but the most special biryani may be the one that does not have meat, the nawabs of the region hired vegetarian cooks to create the meatless biryani and thus Tahiri came into being.

The people of central Asia lay claim to this dish also and believe that it was Tehmur Lung who brought biryani to North India from Kazakhstan through Afghanistan.

Despite all the different twists to the dish, like the Sindhi Biryani with potatoes, the Memoni Biryani with teez masala, the Kacha Goshat Biryani that is cooked in garammasala spices without tomatoes and the Bho-ri Biryani, very popular in Karachi and Bombay, it is actually Lucknow that lays ultimate claim to it. The Awadhi Dum Biryani is a gift that the Muslims of the Mughul era gave to the northern part of India. The specialty of the Awadhi Dum Biryani is that the meat is also half-cooked like the rice, and the dish is brought to cooking perfection through the dum pukth style of cooking, almost like the ancient times when berian was buried in the ground and cooked to perfection.

I want to share with you a twist on biryani called Hara Masala Biryani. It cooks to perfection; the taste is royal and the aroma Mughlai. I recently ate it at Imran Qureshi’s and Aisha Khalid’s house, in the historic city of Lahore. The first bite of this biryani put me in food heaven, and my gracious hosts offered me tips on this style of biryani, to which I added my love for food, experience, research and some ingredients, conjuring it up for a birthday dinner. It was an instant hit. Here it is from my kitchen to yours:

Hara Masala Biryani

Ingredients:

1 bunch cilantro (hara dhanya)
1 bunch mint (pudina)
10 serrano peppers (hari mirch)
15 blanched almonds (badaam)
2 ½ tbs coconut powder (narial)
1tbsp ginger garlic (lasan, adrak)
1 cup yogurt (dahi)
1 ¼ chicken (approximately 19 to 20 pieces)
3 medium size red onions (laal piyaz)
½ cup to 1/3 cup oil
Salt to taste
½ cup water
3 red potatoes
1 bay leaf
1 tbsp kewra water
½ tsp garam masala powder
2 mugs of Basmati rice

Method:

Slice onions thinly and fry in hot oil until golden brown, set aside half of the fried onions and add ginger garlic and chicken to the other half. Cook on high heat for a few minutes.

In a blender, blend cilantro leaves, mint leaves, green peppers, ½ cup water, blanched almonds, coconut powder, once blended add the green mixture, yogurt and salt to the chicken. Now add peeled and halved potatoes, cooking on high to medium heat, add a little water if masala looks to dry. Cook until oil separates and the chicken and potatoes are tender.

In a separate pot (colander) boil 8 to 10 mugs of water, adding bay leaf, 10 to 15 black peppercorns, 5 to 10 cloves, 5 green cardamoms, 1 black cardamom, 1 cinnamon stick bringing it to boil.

Now add pre-soaked rice to the boiling water keeping the rice to tender crisp phase, still offering resistance to the bite but cooked through, since we cook the rice completely in the dum phase.

Drain rice, layer the pot with rice, layer with chicken and masala, add the second layer of rice, sprinkle garam masala powder, fried onions, kewra water, seal pot with foil and lid. Notching full heat for 5 minutes and medium to low heat for 15 to complete the dum.

Let sit for 10 minute, and serve.

By: BISMA TIRMIZI

Sometimes a season, a picture, a memory can bring the taste of a particular food with it. One can almost taste it, smell it, savour it and the understanding that the only thing standing between me and the food is a delightful realisation, that now all I have to do is pick up the ingredients, put on an apron and get cooking; and voila, Lahori Fish is ready to be served.

Lahori Fish, this one sent me to the kitchen fast and to the grocery store faster. Once the fish, my favourite white meat, was set to marinade it gave me some time to research the history behind this delicious dish.

What’s the story of the fried fish? Is it its tender yet crisp texture that keeps us coming back for more? Or perhaps the simple fact that once caught, or bought, it takes a dash of butter, red pepper, salt, garlic, ginger and ten minutes on the skillet or karahi and you have dinner that’s a winner!

It is famously said in Don Quixote Hunger is the best sauce in the world and since peasants have a lot of it they always eat with zeal and zest. Yes, fish was a food of the coastal poor, and the ones living by rivers and lakes. And then ironically fresh fish jumped ship and became rich man’s food.

The bawarchees from the house of Mughals, under the influence of the cooks of Awadh, modern day Lucknow, decided to marinade the treasures of the sea and cooked and presented it to royal perfection, to the utter delight of the nawabs who joined Akbar for zohrana (lunch) and aashaiya (dinner) often.

But what about the simple city folk, the people of Lahore and of course Amritsar, sitting some thirty miles from Lahore, where fish was a frequent dinner delight in autumn, winter and spring?

In order to claim fish as their own dish they took to the hawandasta (mortar) powdered a few indigenous spices and set it to marinade in the cold winters of Lahore. The fish was then dipped in rice flour and besan (gram flour), and finally double fried it to orange perfection. What is the purpose of double frying it? In order to get the extra crispiness and crunch that enhances the taste significantly.

In the sub continent, particularly Punjab Rahu the sweet river fish is the most popular choice for the Lahori Fish. It is believed that the abundance of this river fish, from Darya-e-Ravi, and the blessing of cool glorious weather of the region from autumn to spring and of course basant, the festive celebration to welcome spring, inspired the Punjabi cooks to create the Lahori Fish.

History tells us that spring was the time when the locals enjoyed eating fried pakoras,kachorian, purian, all kinds of pakwans (batter fried or fried foods), and thus they decided to batter fry Rahu, and gave the batter an orange yellow hue, the colour that represents basant. This double battered fried fish became very popular in Punjab on both sides of the border.

Presented as street food, affordable, quick and scrumptious, however as its popularity grew it poised as a lavish dinner dish served with pride at celebrations across Pakistan.

In Indian Punjab this delectable fish, or a very similar tasting fish to the Lahori Fish, is very popular and goes by the name of Amritsari Fish. It is a fish from River Biyaas, double fried in a besan batter to orange golden perfection and served with green chutney.

It is a popular street favourite, therefore to presume that the people on both sides of the Wagah Border love this delicious batter delight is a safe assumption. It is served withhari chutney or imli (tamarind) chutney, or both if one wants an extra zing.

Winters in my neck of the woods are very 'Lahoreisque', dry, cold and glorious, so when my taste buds demanded a taste of Punjab I succumbed with pleasure. A quick call to my khala (maternal aunt) in Faisalabad and I had an authentic recipe. To my delight my friend Sandeep from Indian Punjab volunteered as the taste-tester representing Amritsari Fish, while I did the honour of taste testing my very own Lahori Fish. We both left the table happy campers. Here’s from my kitchen to yours.

Ingredients (serves 4 to 6)

1lbs fish fillets (6 to 8 pieces)

Spices for Marinade

1tsp red chilli powder
½ tsp crushed red pepper
1 tsp crushed cumin
½ tsp garam masala
1 tsp crushed dhanya seeds
½ tsp ajwain
1tsp crushed anaardaana
2 to 3 tbsp lemon juice
1 tsp crushed garlic
1 tsp crushed ginger
Salt to taste
1 tsp chopped green chilli

Ingredients for batter

1 cup besan
3 tbsp rice flour
½ tsp haldi
½ tsp red chilli powder
½ tsp baking powder
1tsp crushed garlic
1 egg
3 tbsp oil
1 ½ to 2 ½ mugs ice cold water, keeping the consistency like that of pakora batter
2 tsp orange colour
Salt to taste

Method

Wash fish and let dry, mix marinade and rub on fish, and let it rest six to eight hours in the fridge. Mix the batter by adding cold water and dip the fish fillets in the mixture. Heat oil and fry fillets for eight to 10 minutes, remove from fryer and leave it on oil absorbent paper towels until fillets are at room temperature. Reheat oil and refry fish fillets on high heat for two to four minutes. Remove from fryer and serve hot with hari or imli chutney,Lahori or Amritsari style.

By: BISMA TIRMIZI

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Monday, January 6, 2014

Qazi Sahib – Javed Chaudhry

Enemies of joy - Ghazi Salahuddin

Enemies of joy

The mystery of Raiwind palace ownership

The mystery of Raiwind palace ownership
By: IFTIKHAR A. KHAN and KALBE ALI