If there is one thing that gets to you as a Pakistani student in Germany, it is not just the cold weather or the language barriers. It’s the craving for good, affordable and delicious Pakistani food. Back home in Karachi, life is straightforward; you step out, and you’ll find biryani in every street, seekh kebab, or anda paratha on almost every corner. Here? It’s another story.
Sure enough, here in Berlin, there are a lot of South Asian restaurants, and there is always that one place which claims to serve “Authentic Pakistani cuisine”. But here is the problem: it’s usually either way too expensive for a student’s budget or watered down for the desi palate. €16 for a small plate of butter chicken with three pieces of naan? No, thank you.
I remember my first month here. I was homesick, and I made the trek to a popular Pakistani restaurant everyone on a WhatsApp group was recommending. I sat down, very excited and ordered a plate of biryani, waiting eagerly. What arrived was not biryani. Just a sad palate of dry rice with a spoonful of bland chicken on top, no raita, no salad and no pickle. I paid €14 for it and left even hungrier.
And very soon, I realised if I needed authentic food, I needed to learn to cook. So I found the nearest Turkish market and bought a few bags of rice, lentils and the closest things to Pakistani spices I could find. My best friend because of YouTube, and I would call my mother and ask for advice. Over time, my little student kitchen became my own mini Karachi.
But still, being a student and cooking is a challenging task. You think of compromising your health and food to finish yout assignments and part-time jobs. There are days when you just want someone else to cook for you, and the struggles hit you hard. Delivery apps rarely have good Pakistani options, and even when you find one, it’s a 40-minute wait and a €25 dent in your wallet.
What can I say? We adapt and learn to live. You cook more, swap recipes with other desi students, hunt for hidden gems in the city and dream of the day you’ll land a good job and afford a proper Pakistani feast again.
Until then? It’s homemade daal and frozen parathas and the occasional €16 butter chicken when I just can’t take it anymore.