The Perfect Paratha

The Perfect Paratha by Aarushi Gupta

I’m sure you’ve heard this before, but taste is 90% smell, and out of the five senses, smell is the one most closely related to memory. Given this, it’s no wonder why even a small whiff of freshly baked pumpkin bread or your old favorite perfume brings along a flood of memories. For me, the sweet, savory, and doughy smell of parathas takes me back to my grandmother’s kitchen.

Growing up, my family traveled to Dubai every summer to visit my grandparents. Seeing family was always nice, but the thing I most looked forward to as a child was eating garma garam (piping hot) parathas. Even now, just the thought of the soft dough, perfectly encasing whatever filling my heart desires, makes my mouth water. The filling is what defines the dish, so depending on what you do with it, it can be anything from a hearty meal to a delicious dessert—making it perfect for any and all times of day. That’s my excuse for having parathas for breakfast, lunch, dinner, and even dessert!

My fond memories of parathas begin with my sister and I trailing behind my grandma into the kitchen to be her “helpers.” At five and seven years old, we couldn’t be trusted to do the cutting and cooking, so our grandma assigned us the task of making the dough. In reality, this just means mixing atta (wholemeal wheat flour) with water in the right ratios. Despite the task’s simplicity, my sister and I needed a good half hour to get a consistent mixture (and then to clean the dough off our hands, of course). Once the dough was ready, we watched in enchantment as our grandma took a piece of dough, lightly flattened it, and added a scoop of sugar for the filling—one of our favorites. She carefully wrapped the dough into a tight ball, bulging with the sugar, and our jaws dropped when she’d flatten the dough into a paper thin layer with no filling to be found. No matter how many times we’d watch her make parathas, we were always astonished at how the sugar would magically vanish. After frying the parathas for a few minutes on the stove, the light tan dough turned golden brown and we knew our parathas were ready to eat. Unlike at home, where we had to be called to the table multiple times to eat, my sister and I raced to eat the parathas the instant they were set on plates. We paired the still sizzling parathas with cold yogurt to ensure we didn’t burn our hands or tongues while wolfing them down.

Although I have yet to find a paratha that tastes as good as my grandma’s, the smell of any paratha brings with it fond memories of my grandma and a great sense of comfort. In our family, parathas are synonymous to home. It is routine now that everytime my sister or I come back from college, we pick up an aloo (potato) paratha on the way home.

I believe the comfort of parathas extends even to people without the memory associations that I have. Just like a friend who can perfectly match your energy level, parathas will take the shape of whatever you need in any given moment. Need a recovery meal during a cold? Have a hara bhara (green) paratha whose spinach-atta crust and radish filling will nurse you back to health in no time. Need some sweetness to get over the bitter pain of a breakup? Have a cheeni (sugar) paratha whose oozing sugary goodness will make you fall in love so hard you’ll forget their name. Stuck in a rut? Have a paneer (cheese) paratha with a side of achar (pickled fruits and vegetables) whose citrusy, spicy flavor will replenish your zest for life. Looking for a protein fix after a workout? A keema (minced beef) paratha is your best bet. The possibilities are endless!