Shan, National, Mehran: the masala comparison

A Pakistani kitchen without a masala box is either wealthy in time or pretending. I am neither, most Tuesdays. So I cooked the same chicken karahi three nights running, same butcher in PECHS, same karahi, same tomatoes, swapping only the packet: Shan, National, Mehran. The brief was not which brand is “authentic.” Authenticity is a word people use when they have not browned onions. The brief was salt, colour, heat, and whether the pot became a karahi or a timid stew that wished it were a roast.

The packet is not the cook. If your onions are pale, Shan cannot save you. If your tomatoes are water, National cannot save you. Fry first.

— Nabeela, 52, who has cooked karahi in a North Nazimabad house for thirty years

Three boxes, one butcher

Shan is the box most diaspora kitchens can name, and most Karachi cupboards can reach without looking. National Foods sits beside it in the same aisle, slightly less loud on the packet, equally present at the shaadi house that outsourced the masala. Mehran is the third voice in that argument, the one aunts in Liaquatabad still defend as “sharper.” I bought all three on the same afternoon from a shop on Tariq Road that sells them like utilities, which is what they are. Utilities can be good. Utilities can also teach a generation that karahi is a colour you pour on pale chicken.

Method, held constant: bone-in chicken, a little more than a kilo; onions sliced and fried until they actually browned, not until they sulked; ginger-garlic; tomatoes that had taste; green chilli; yoghurt in two of the pots because two of the packets wanted it; ghee, not a shy spoon of oil. Packet in after the raw smell of spice had somewhere to go. Salt held back until the end, because packets already believe they are the salt. Nabeela watched the first night and told me to stop stirring like I was making a sauce. Karahi is a fry, then a covered argument, then a fry again. If you cover it forever you have made stew. The timid stew problem is this country’s weeknight epidemic. It is not a brand. It is fear of the tawa.

Shan: loud, red, and slightly sure of itself

Shan’s karahi mix arrived already performing. Colour went in like a decision: chilli, cumin, boxed brightness. Cooked hard, onions actually brown, it made a karahi I would eat without apology. Cooked timid — lid on too long, a splash of water “so it doesn’t stick” — it became a red soup. Shan rewards a fry. Salt was high. I added none until the end, then a pinch. Use less than the sachet. They are selling a sachet, not sitting at your table.

National: the polite cousin

National’s karahi was quieter: brown-red like a house, heat lower, salt lower, which I preferred. Nabeela said it tasted like “the shaadi wala who is trying not to offend,” then took a second roti. I would use it if elders were eating. It is also the packet most likely to become timid stew, because it does not shout when you add water. You have to refuse the water. Lid off, tomatoes to jam, it jumped. Same box, different nerve. Brand is a seasoning. Technique is the meal.

Mehran: sharper, and a little more like a mill

Mehran smelled more like a spice stall than a laboratory. Heat came as a whole-spice ghost, coriander, something bitter at the edge. Darker than Shan. Salt in the middle. Cooked with nerve, it was the pot I would make again for myself. The shopkeeper on Tariq Road takes Mehran for karahi, Shan for biryani, National when it is on offer. That is a more honest review than a blog. If your karahi tastes only of chilli and red, you used the loud box and did not brown. If it tastes of nothing, you used water. Stop using water. Use tomato. Use time.

When to skip the packet

Skip the packet when you have cumin, coriander, chilli, turmeric, salt, and twenty extra minutes. Fry the onions past polite. Karahi is chicken, tomato, fat, heat, and the refusal to make soup. Nabeela uses a packet for thirty at Eid when the morning was cruel, and her own mix for eight. Both are adult. The infantile decision is packet plus water plus a lid, then blaming the brand. Skip also when the box smells like dust. Shan if the pot must announce itself; National if the table is mixed; Mehran if you want the mill. None of them will brown the onion. The packet is not the cook.

• Fry onions until they are brown, not golden-from-a-magazine.
• Hold the packet salt. Taste at the end.
• Lid off until you see oil. Lid on only to finish the chicken, then off again.
• Use less than the sachet. You can add. You cannot subtract red.
• Skip the box when you have whole spices and a little pride. Use it when the morning was cruel.

Three packets, one butcher, one problem: the timid stew. Shan shouts, National soothes, Mehran still smells like a mill. Brown the onion. Reduce the tomato. Salt last. The brand is a seasoning. You are still the cook.