Bun Kabab...

[ghazi52]

Lahore
(shami burger...Saddam Burger point

 

[ghazi52]

Bun Kabab- Famous Street food Karachi

DAWN.COM
Bun kababs ha’ve always been a roadside attraction. You don’t necessarily need to have bills of cash in your designer jeans to get a piece of me. You don’t need to belong to a particular socio-economic class either and if someone says you do – they are lying. Just watch, they’ll be at the stall when their stomachs growl. I don’t offer a fancy air-conditioned seating arrangement, nor do I want you to have an unforgettable experience when you visit. I’m going to offer you exactly what you came for: a quick bite in an extremely polluted, over-crowded and noisy environment. And it’ll be well-worth the Rs. 30 you pay in return.

That’s what a bun-kebab would say to you if it could talk. Karachi has become a city of over 18 million people, growing at a rate of five per cent a year, offering the latest culinary attractions from the western world and undermining the indigenous treats, such as the bun-kebab. But like most aspects of the city, this impression too is a façade.

The glitz and glamour of new shops and restaurant can’t mask the poverty peeping out of every corner; shiny cars aren’t enough to hide the over-crowded, broken-down buses; and the almost-sturdy looking bridges can’t hide the dozens of slums in the city. For all its claims of being a “world-class city,” advanced, metropolitan, and comparable to Dubai, Karachi remains where it was a couple of decades ago. It may even be worse off.

But this is not meant to be a critique of this city of candle lights. This is simply a reminder that the more things change, the more they stay the same. And while the city modernises at an astonishing pace, constants remain. And nothing defines Karachi’s consistency more than the bun-kebabs that continue to indicate the city’s true identity.

Roadside vendors littered the city for a long time before Tandoori Hut and Pizza Hut made it to Boat Basin. These tiny carts dotted the pavements of Tariq Road long before there were food courts in the shopping centres. Bun-kebabs once harmoniously shared their road-side turf with the likes of gola-gandas, bhel-puri and biryani.

But as restaurants and cafes sprouted in different localities, vendors suddenly underwent an inferiority complex. The makers and sellers of local delicacies such as nihari and haleem, packed up their metal pots, moved into fancy indoor shops, and added an ‘Inn’ to their names. The various puris were affected too, and so eventually they went to into semi-indoor shops such as ‘Nimco,’ and from there, moved on to create places such as ‘Gazebo’ and ‘Chatkharay’ which were considered more hygienic. Why? Probably because their food was prepared under a roof and cost triple the amount charged by street-vendors.

Why hasn’t the burger affected me, you ask? Why should it? Others may be born, but your identity remains yours. That’s what the ‘Tipu Bun-Kebab’ brothers of Karachi would tell you too. If you are craving a burger, a bun-kebab can’t be a substitute. And if you are hungry for a bun-kebab, even a mouth-watering burger with melted cheese and a deep-fried patty can’t lure you away from me.

Over the years, the bun-kebab has remained a staple, even as the city around it has succumbed to the forces of globalisation. Mr. Burger, which was established on Tariq Road in the 1980s, was considered as respectable an eatery as a restaurant in a five-star hotel. KFC and McDonald’s also entered Pakistan in the late 1990s, as part of a wave of foreign investment in the country. But Karachi’s bun-kebab vendors proudly claim that their business wasn’t affected much by the advent of these international franchises.

Apparently, a slice of thick cheddar cheese on a grilled patty can’t compete with the taste of a fried egg on a mysterious kebab patty. Vendors across the city insist that both of these can not be compared to the other as they offer completely different tastes. One comes with crisp green lettuce, tomatoes, cheese and French fries on the side, while the other comes with a mush of cabbage and onions along with spicy ketchup or watery chatni. “Angrezi taste hai woh,” volunteers one bun-kebab vendor, dismissing any comparison between his speciality and the western import, the burger.

The differing tastes of the bun-kebab and burger, and their appeal for different palates, became an apt metaphor for heightening class distinctions in Karachi. In the 1980s, when Karachiites began moving towards the posh residential areas of Defence and Clifton and attending elite English-medium schools, they were labelled as ‘burgers.’

Since bun-kebabs were the local favourite and burgers the new thing from the West, it seemed natural to label Karachi’s elite class as ‘burger-log.’ The ‘burger-log,’ not too happy with their new label, in turn resorted to labelling those from different socio-economic classes with other disparaging terms. Perhaps calling this group bun-kebab wouldn’t have had the same impact as ‘burger’ (pronounced with a prominent rolling of the r’s). Either way, this distinction was created on a basis of vast characteristics ranging from eating habits, spoken language and social activities.

At my thela, there is no distinction between different types of Karachiites. Bankers swing by after work, loosen their ties and devour me in four bites. Then there are those who don’t want to make the effort of getting off their cars, so they have me delivered right to their windows. And then, of course, the truck drivers stop by and yell out orders for several of my kind. Even those rich kids from Defence, who supposedly prefer burgers, come by to order diet colas and expensive Marlboros and, almost as an afterthought, add me on the list too.

There was a time when I was new in town, and could only be had outside Karachi’s numerous cinemas for a few rupees. Spreading over to Nursery Market and Burns Road in the late 1980s, growing with the city that I’ve called home, my popularity soared further. Today, I can be found throughout this city, being sold for five times my original amount, tasty as ever. Well-established vendors sell about 800 to 1000 bun-kebabs in a single day! We’ve evolved, no doubt. Karachi’s newest cinema, an expensive multiplex in Defence, serves nachos instead of bun-kebabs. But that’s fine because those who still want me will always know where to find me.

 

[I S I]

Abhi abhi gale tak full hoa hun aur tum ye le aae. Where is my Haajmula.

 

[Chauvinist]

Abhi abhi gale tak full hoa hun aur tum ye le aae. Where is my Haajmula.

Thora hoslay se kha lay Banda.. pait to apna hi hai..
Hajmulay se kuch nai ban'na You need Jamaal Ghota..
Toot hi parna hota khanay pay.

 

[T-72]

so, he wrapped a shammi kebab in egg and made a sandwich ?

looks delicious

 

[I S I]

Thora hoslay se kha lay Banda.. pait to apna hi hai..
Hajmulay se kuch nai ban'na You need Jamaal Ghota..
Toot hi parna hota khanay pay.

Yaar aaj to lagta hai food poisoning ho hi jaegi. Aaj dinner main 8 banana, 10 boiled Eggs, Green Tea, 60g Milo powder, 4 shaami kabab, 1 plate french fries khaa liye.

 

[YeBeWarned]

F the Hardees

 

[I S I]

F the Hardees

Hardees Ads are really hard though.

 

[YeBeWarned]

Hardees Ads are really hard though.

I wonder if we have Ads for Bun Kabab

 

[xyxmt]

I recently had the strong craving for Bun Kabab after 25 years of not having one. I dont go out for desi food in Toronto because my Wife is a very good cook and I learned from her and added a man's touch. So, I decided to make bun kabab, So made some specialty Kabab chatnis, got the softtest buns i can find in the market ...and invitation went out to all my friends "who wants to come to bun kabab party"....I have the khatakhat Tawa in my basement Kitchen
needless to say after bun kabab party was over non of us could walk we were so stuffed.

 

[I S I]

I wonder if we have Ads for Bun Kabab

Bun hai ye sirf ghatya soch waalo.

 

[PakSword]

Fortunately, I have found an exact replica in Abu Dhabi.

It costs 4 dirhams for daal-wala-shami without egg, and 5 dirhams with egg.

When I first found out about this guy in July this year, I ate two bun kababs every day for the first two weeks.

 

[Muhammad Omar]

Bun hai ye sirf ghatya soch waalo.

Fluffy Buns

Fortunately, I have found an exact replica in Abu Dhabi.

It costs 4 dirhams for daal-wala-shami without egg, and 5 dirhams with egg.

When I first found out about this guy in July this year, I ate two bun kababs every day for the first two weeks.

Simply Anday wala Burger

 

[Isotope]

I spent the whole decade of 90 working on a project in interior Sindh, and had it with my host while in Karachi. Tell you honestly, never had anything so simple but yet so tasty before, freshly made and hot, liked it so much, had it for lunch 2 days straight in a row. Tried it again at a Pakistani restaurant while in Dallas and even once in Dubai, but it was nothing like I had tasted in Pakistan, in fact in Dallas, I later ended up with a bad heart burn. The taste and flavor I found in Karachi, made under quite unhygienic conditions were just simply out of this world. After eating, I was very sure my stomach was going to pay later, but surprisingly had no issues whatsoever and the next day I was at it again. This is a vegie meal, but my in my unbiased opinion, no one can cook meat dishes like Pakistanis. One can spend a life time tasting all different varieties, but there will still be more left to taste. I don't travel to that part of the world anymore, but will always remember in good words those beautiful people, their humbleness and extreme generosity.

Peace mates.

 

[PakSword]

Fluffy Buns



Simply Anday wala Burger

Nahi yaar, here if you say anday wala, he thinks I want only anday wala (he only puts egg in the bun). So I have to ask him for Kabab Anda burger.