Dum Pukht. I’m a Pakistani, yet I don’t really know Pakistani food very well. My knowledge of and exposure to Pakistani food is largely limited to my late grandmother’s cooking (she was an extremely gifted home cook with one of the most refined palates I’ve ever come across), my mom’s cooking (which is delicious, lovingly prepared and tastes like our childhood with a touch of smokiness from the number of times its been slightly burnt), and my mom’s friends’ cooking (almost all of which was quite awful to be honest, but I’ll cut these ladies -including my mom- some slack, as they’re all doctors and surgeons and couldn’t be masters of all trades). And of course, whatever I’ve tried at Salt and Pepper, Bundoo Khan, Mirchi, and other desi joints on M.M.Alam Road in Lahore also add to my not-so-vast palate development in Pakistani cuisine.
One of the biggest regrets and sorrows of my life is not learning more of my grandmother’s recipes. She was fine, and then suddenly, one day, she no longer was and life changed forever, for so many of us, in so many unforeseeable ways. We were shaken and broken and couldn’t even seek the comfort we once found in her lovingly prepared meals. While everything my grandmother touched in the kitchen turned to gold, the one distinct food memory that truly sticks out whenever I think of my grandmother’s cooking is her version of chicken stew, better known in Pakistan as Dum Pukht.
She always had an army of servants, but she always supervised or prepared the meals herself. A daal, a vegetable dish, and a protein dish were always on the menu, for both lunch and dinner, and dinner was always fresh and never contained the leftovers from lunch. Fresh chapatis or rice (sometimes both) She was just such an expert planner and manager, that she knew exactly how much to cook, and if there were ever leftovers, they were always donated to one of the (many) needy people that always found their way to her doorstep. Most of my memories of my grandmother involve her sitting in the kitchen, on her ‘Executive Chair’, as her arthritis didn’t allow her to stand for very long.
On my grandmother’s last trip to Jeddah, my sister and I tried our best to learn her chicken stew recipe by placing all the ingredients in front of her and observing how much she adds into the pot, and in exactly what steps. By this time, she had already suffered from two strokes so she had lost her ability to speak coherently, but she was still mentally present in a lot of ways. She still felt joy in seeing her children and grandchildren, and in feeding them well.
Whenever any of us were in a bit of a mood or upset, my grandmother would always cajole us with an “I understand, but that has nothing to do with eating or not eating. The food did nothing wrong, so at least eat”. Wise lady, she was, because she must’ve known how half the times, it’s just a case of The Hangrys.
The day after my grandmother passed away, I took a day off from work. My sister was incidentally in Dubai (God works in mysterious ways), and we decided to honor my grandmother the best way we could, the best way we knew she would want us to: by feeding ourselves to the most comforting meal we needed that day- our attempt at her chicken stew / Dum Pukht. As we sat not he table, slowly eating the fruits of our labor, with tears streaming down her expressionless faces, we somehow knew she’ll be more at peace, smiling down on us from the heavens, knowing at least we ate.
This recipe might just be the one that’s closest to my heart, my grandmother’s chicken stew / Dum Pukht.
Serves 4.
Ingredients:
- 1 whole chicken, cut into 12 pieces (approximately 1 kilo)
- 500 grams potatoes
- 2 cups peas
- 2 cups sliced onions
- 1 Tbs cumin
- 1 Tbs ginger paste
- 1 Tbs garlic paste
- 10 whole dried red chili pods
- 2 Tbs coarse sea salt
- 1 pod of black cardamom
- 1 stick of cinnamon
- 3/4-1 cup whipped yogurt
- 1 cup cooking oil
Method:
The order of the layers is KEY.
- Place the chicken in a single, even layer on the base of a thick-bottomed Dutch Oven.
- Place the onions, potatoes, peas, and spices on top, in this order.
- Pour the whisked yogurt evenly on top.
- Lastly, pour on the oil.
- Close the lid and cook on medium heat for 40-60 minutes until the chicken is tender and the water is all dried up. If you don’t have a dutch oven, you can seal it with dough to ensure that minimum steam escapes.
