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When I first moved to Kathmandu from Pokhara for my studies, everything felt new and overwhelming. Away from the warmth of home and my mother’s cooking, I longed for familiar flavors. Living on a student budget meant I couldn’t indulge in culinary luxuries every day, but there was one breakfast that became my solace: ‘Haluwa-swari’, ‘jeri-swari’, paired with ‘tato tato chiya’ (hot tea) and ‘piro aalu kerau tarkari’. It was a taste of comfort in a city that felt unfamiliar.

What is haluwa?

Haluwa is a sweet semolina pudding that is rich, buttery, and fragrant. Made primarily from semolina (suji), ghee (clarified butter), sugar, and milk or water, it’s flavored with cardamom and garnished with nuts and dried fruits such as almonds, cashews, and raisins. The cooking process involves roasting semolina in ghee until golden brown, then adding sweetened milk or water and stirring until it achieves a thick, smooth consistency.

Haluwa’s luxurious texture and rich flavor make it a dish of celebration, often prepared during festivals, pujas, and special occasions. However, when paired with swari, it transforms into a humble yet indulgent breakfast. The slightly grainy texture of haluwa, combined with the flaky, crisp swari, creates a delightful contrast.

What is swari?

Swari is a flaky, deep-fried flatbread that resembles puri but is slightly thicker and less oily. Made from wheat flour, a touch of ghee, and water, the dough is rolled into small discs and fried until golden and puffy. Swari has a soft interior and a crisp exterior, making it an ideal accompaniment to both sweet and savory dishes.

In the context of haluwa-swari, the swari acts as the perfect vehicle for scooping up the rich, sweet haluwa. Its neutral taste balances the sweetness of haluwa, making every bite a harmonious blend of flavors and textures. Swari’s versatility also makes it an excellent companion for piro aalu kerau tarkari, demonstrating its importance in Nepali breakfasts.

What is jeri?

Jeri, known as jalebi in other South Asian cuisines, is a spiral-shaped, deep-fried sweet soaked in sugar syrup. Made from a fermented batter of all-purpose flour and yogurt, the mixture is piped into hot oil in circular patterns and fried until crispy. Once golden, the jeri is immediately immersed in warm sugar syrup, allowing it to absorb the syrup and become irresistibly sweet and sticky.

Jeri is often served alongside swari, creating the iconic jeri-swari pairing. The crispy, syrup-soaked jeri provides a burst of sweetness that contrasts beautifully with the flaky, neutral swari. This combination is both decadent and comforting, making it a favorite breakfast or snack for those seeking a touch of indulgence.

What is aalu kerau tarkari?

Aalu kerau tarkari is a spicy potato and green pea curry that embodies the essence of Nepali comfort food. Made with boiled potatoes and fresh or dried green peas (kerau), the dish is seasoned with turmeric, cumin, coriander, chili powder, and mustard seeds. A touch of garlic, ginger, and fresh coriander enhances its aroma and flavor.

This dish is beloved for its simplicity and versatility. The potatoes absorb the spices beautifully, while the green peas add a burst of sweetness and texture. When paired with swari, aalu kerau tarkari becomes a hearty and satisfying breakfast. Its spicy kick is perfectly complemented by a cup of hot Nepali tea, making it a favorite among students and workers alike.

The cultural significance

This breakfast combination of haluwa-swari, jeri-swari, and aalu kerau tarkari holds a unique place in the food culture of Kathmandu Valley. Rooted in the Newar community, it represents a blend of traditional flavors and modern-day convenience. While the Newars are renowned for their elaborate feasts and unique culinary practices, this breakfast showcases their ability to create balanced and wholesome meals that are both delicious and practical.

In the bustling streets of Kathmandu, small tea shops and eateries serve this breakfast to locals and visitors alike. It’s common to see people gathered around, sipping hot tea and savoring each bite of haluwa-swari or jeri-swari, often while engaging in animated conversations. For students and young professionals, this breakfast offers a sense of comfort and nostalgia, evoking memories of simpler times.

For many, this breakfast is not just about the food. It’s about the memories it carries. It takes one back to the early mornings in Kathmandu, the warmth of a bustling tea shop, and the camaraderie of friends. It’s a reminder of the small luxuries that brought immense joy during student life—a time when every bite was savored not just for its taste but for the connection it fostered.

As a student from Pokhara living in Kathmandu, the absence of home-cooked meals often made this breakfast a cherished ritual. It was more than just sustenance. It was a moment of solace and indulgence amidst the challenges of academic life. Even today, living far from Nepal, the thought of haluwa-swari, jeri-swari, and aalu kerau tarkari evokes a deep sense of longing and pride in the culinary heritage of Kathmandu Valley.

Why hasn’t this breakfast gone global?

While Nepali momo have gained international fame, this iconic breakfast has yet to make its mark globally. One reason could be the intricacy involved in preparing these dishes, especially the perfect swari and the syrup-soaked jeri. Additionally, the breakfast’s cultural context and deep-rooted connection to Kathmandu’s street food culture make it challenging to replicate the same experience elsewhere.

However, this also adds to its charm. The exclusivity of haluwa-swari, jeri-swari, and aalu kerau tarkari keeps it special, preserving its status as a beloved breakfast of Kathmandu Valley. For those who have moved away from Nepal, the nostalgia associated with this breakfast keeps it alive in their hearts, even if it is not readily available.

Haluwa-swari, jeri-swari, and aalu kerau tarkari are a celebration of Nepali culinary artistry and a testament to the rich food culture of Kathmandu Valley. For those who have experienced it, this breakfast is a cherished memory, a taste of home, and a symbol of simpler, happier times. While it may not yet have traveled globally like momo, its significance remains unparalleled for those who hold it close to their hearts.

The author is a London-based R&D chef

My journey with ‘Akbare chili’ began unexpectedly. I left Nepal at a tender age and knew little about our heritage cuisines, forgotten foods, indigenous crops, and local produce. While working at Do & Co International, a day changed my perception of cooking forever. Among my team, there was Krishna, a Nepali-speaking bhai from Darjeeling. I was his supervisor and the head of Asian cooking at the time.

During a mentoring session, I emphasized keeping cooking simple, embracing the concept of ‘less is more,’ and advocating for heritage, authenticity, and local, simple cooking. “Cooking should not be rocket science,” I always said. After the session, Krishna approached me with something special—Dalle Akbare pickle. It was naturally fermented and made with just two ingredients: salt and Akbare Chili.

That pickle was a revelation. It was tasty, aromatic, and authentic, embodying generational cooking techniques and traditions. That simple jar of pickle taught me so much about the essence of cooking: less is more, local is better, and authenticity is king. This experience changed my entire perspective on cooking and deepened my appreciation for heritage recipes and ingredients like Akbare chili.

Akbare khursani, also known as dalle khursani, red cherry pepper chili, or simply dalle, holds a legendary status in the world of chilies. Revered for its addictive spiciness and unique aroma, this chili pepper is a cornerstone of Nepali cuisine and culture. Many Nepalis think its origins and identity are deeply tied to Nepal’s eastern mid-hill regions, but it shares its fame with regions in Bhutan, Northeast India, and Nepal. Even the name of this chili comes from the Bhutanese language, ‘Akubari,’ which translates to ‘Uncle Blazing’ and has nothing to do with King Akbar of India.

Akbare khursani is a polyploidal variety of pepper, the only known one of its kind. It belongs to the family Solanaceae and genus Capsicum. The plant thrives in the cool, subtropical climate of Nepal’s eastern hills, growing to heights of 100-130 cm in open fields and up to 150-180 cm in greenhouse conditions. It’s a hardy plant with a long growing season, making it well-suited for cultivation in Ilam and surrounding districts.

Akbare chili is not only a flavor powerhouse but also a nutritional treasure. It’s exceptionally rich in Vitamin C, with 100 grams containing 240 mg—five times more than an orange. It also boasts high levels of Vitamin A (11,000 IU) and Vitamin E (0.7 mg), along with potassium, making it a healthful addition to any diet. The chili’s pungency ranges from 100,000 to 350,000 Scoville Heat Units (SHU), placing it in the same heat category as the Habanero pepper. This fiery heat, combined with its rich, fruity aroma, makes it a favorite for culinary uses and pickling.

Akbare Khursani is a versatile ingredient in Nepali cuisine. Its spiciness and flavor elevate traditional dishes, and it’s consumed in various forms. Whole chilis are often served as a relish alongside dal bhat (rice and lentils). Chopped, it’s used as a seasoning in vegetable and meat curries. The paste is blended into chutneys and sauces, particularly for momos (dumplings). It can be transformed into dalle achaar, a tangy and spicy pickle cherished across Nepal as well as combined with yak buttermilk to create a unique fermented delicacy.

Despite being associated with the eastern hill districts, including Bhojpur, Ilam, Sankhuwasabha, Taplejung, and Terhathum, the growing demand from noodle companies is encouraging farmers to cultivate more Akbare chili. For example, farmers of Ribdikot Rural Municipality in Palpa sold Akbare chilies worth more than Rs. 60 million in 2024—Rs. 20 million more than in 2023, when chilies worth Rs. 40 million were sold. A single farmer can earn up to one million rupees just by selling Akbare.

With the increasing demand for hot and spicy noodles, the cultivation of Akbare chilli has also expanded in Nepal.

A technical paper by Damodar Poudyal and his team, Akabare Chili Amplifies the Household Income of Farmers in the Mid-hills of Nepal, shows that chili consumption in Nepal has increased over the years, with total per capita capsicum consumption reaching 9.5 kg in 2021. Similarly, the per capita consumption of Akbare chili in 2021 was 0.47 kg, 34 percent higher than in 2020 (Poudyal et al., 2023). The number of districts cultivating Akbare chili in the mid-hills of Nepal has also increased. In 2021, Akbare chili was grown in 54 districts—nearly 13 percent more than in 2018.

Given its historical presence and cultural value in Nepali kitchens, the fresh and processed market for Akbare chili has expanded over the years. There is strong demand for Akbare chili within Nepal, along with ample opportunities to grow the business. An improved marketing system with a buyback guarantee would not only strengthen the chili economy but also create employment opportunities and attract young people to farming. 

The author is a London-based R&D chef

The new generation might not be familiar with the term ‘kodoski,’ but it was quite popular in our time. The term is a simple combination of two words: ‘kodo’ (millet) and ‘raksi’ (liquor). I was familiar with millet liquor but had never heard of ‘tongba’. 

When I arrived at the Gurkha Welfare Center in Sorhakhutte, Kathmandu, for higher studies, I was introduced to tongba—a traditional, indigenous, hot, millet-based alcoholic beer from Eastern Nepal. During the cold winter evenings in Kathmandu, tongba, paired with a plate of momo and crispy sukuti (dried meat), made for excellent company.

Millet, particularly kodo (Paspalum scrobiculatum), has historically been considered the food of the poor. There was a time when people would cook millet dishes secretly. If someone was preparing dhido (a traditional millet dish) and an important guest visited, the family would hide the dhido and cook rice instead to serve the guest. Society unnecessarily glorified rice over millet.

Times have changed. Urban restaurants now include millet-based dishes in their menus, which has helped elevate the prestige of kodo. Media and society have also highlighted the health benefits of millet. Additionally, the demand for kodo-based raksi and tongba has surged. While tongba was traditionally a winter drink, it’s now available year-round.

The Gandaki Rural Municipality in Gorkha has begun producing and distributing local liquor under the brand name ‘Gandaki kodo ko raksi’ (Gandaki millet liquor), with other municipalities following suit. However, Nepalis are consuming millet products, including kodoski, unsustainably and often associating them unnecessarily with national pride. It’s essential for all Nepali to understand that Kodo isn’t exclusive to Nepal. It’s also widely popular in India. In Bengali and Odia languages, this millet is called kodo, while in Hindi, Marathi, Punjabi, and Gujarati, it is known as kodra—a name derived from the Sanskrit word kotrawa.

Kodo or millet originated in Africa and was domesticated in the Indian subcontinent around 3,000 years ago. Known for its drought-resistant properties, it thrives in dry regions and is one of the world’s oldest grains. Both African and Asian countries cultivate this millet in dry and semi-arid climates, where it serves as a staple food crop. In India, kodo is primarily grown in the Deccan region, the southern peninsula, and areas south of the Narmada River, with cultivation extending to the foothills of the Himalayas, including Nepal.

Millet is an excellent grain to consume due to its nourishing nutritional profile, making it a suitable replacement for rice or wheat. It contains significantly more protein, fiber, and minerals than rice, one of the major staple grains. Millet is particularly high in protein, with an eight percent composition. It also contains glutelin protein. Compared to wheat (0.2 percent fiber) and rice (0.2 percent fiber), kodo stands out as a top-quality source of dietary fiber, boasting nine percent fiber content.

In Nepal, a remarkable diversity of about 22 millet species exists, serving multiple purposes ranging from food and feed to fodder. These include both cultivated and wild varieties.

According to official data, Nepal imported 15.2m kilograms of millet worth Rs 754.43m in the fiscal year 2023/24. In 2022/23, imports were higher, totaling 18.4m kilograms valued at Rs 732m. Notably, 2023 was declared the International Year of Millet (IYM) by the United Nations General Assembly during its seventy-fifth session.

Looking back, in 2008/09, Nepal imported 12.37m kilograms of millet valued at Rs 65.32m. Despite being the world’s 13th largest producer of millet, Nepal’s production has been insufficient to meet the growing demand. The majority of Nepal’s millet imports come from India.

A 2020 study by the Food and Agriculture Organization (FAO) reported that Nepal produced 320,953 tons of millet that year, while India produced a staggering 12.49m tons. In the previous fiscal year, Nepal imported 15.29m kilograms of millet from India.

If Nepal wants to consume more millet, the country needs to increase domestic production. Otherwise, millet will become yet another item that makes Nepal dependent on imports.

To adopt a sustainable approach to millet production, Arjun Prasad Khanal of the Ministry of Agriculture and Livestock Development, Nepal, wrote in the International Journal of Environmental and Agriculture Research in 2023, “Nepal needs to bring the millet crop from its existing state of ‘marginal, underutilized, and poor man’s crop’ into the ‘commercial, trade potential, and high-status crop’ of Nepal.”

He further emphasized, “The inner Tarai and Hilly regions of Nepal have tremendous potential for producing quality millet. It’s like a situation where the ‘iron is already hot,’ and it’s up to Nepal to either shape it properly or watch it cool down, missing a valuable opportunity.”

In a recent initiative, Kushma Municipality in Parbat district has started cultivating millet on 200 Ropanis (101,744 square meters) of fields that had been lying fallow for years. This year, the municipality produced 16 Muris of millet, generating revenue of Rs 80,000 by utilizing the previously unused land. The initiative, part of the Prime Minister’s Employment Program, aims to connect unemployed youth with agricultural employment and maximize the potential of fallow land. The municipality chose this area because it was historically known for millet farming and remains highly fertile, yielding an abundant harvest.

My advice to every municipality is to follow Kushma Municipality’s example and prioritize millet production. Otherwise, we risk ending up with ‘Nepali kodoski’ made from imported Indian millet.

The author is a London-based R&D chef

A few years ago, I was in New York for an airline catering project. My schedule was packed, and my routine revolved around the comfort of a five-star hotel and occasional dinners in Jackson Heights.

One evening, a humble and soft-spoken kitchen assistant in my team, a Bhutanese Nepali-speaking young man who had never set foot in Nepal, invited me to his house for dinner. I hadn’t realized that day was Maghe Sankranti – the first day of the Nepali month of Magh, a culturally significant day in many South Asian cultures.

Initially, I hesitated. I was accustomed to fine dining, and this was a long drive out of the city. But something about his warmth and enthusiasm made me say yes.

He picked me up later that evening, and we drove over an hour to his place. As we arrived, I noticed the house was buzzing with activity. Four families had gathered, and there was an air of celebration. The dining table was adorned with dishes I had seen growing up but hadn’t truly appreciated: steamed tubers, sesame laddus, ghee (clarified butter), jaggery, and bowls of chamre rice lined the table alongside a dish I had never encountered before – tite Chicken, a slightly bitter preparation unique to their tradition.

It wasn’t until I saw the offerings carefully arranged in a corner that it hit me – it was Maghe Sankranti. I felt shame for not remembering the day and for how far I had moved from my roots. Yet, as I stood there, surrounded by strangers who welcomed me like family, I realized this moment wasn’t about guilt but about rediscovery. Here were Nepali-speaking families, thousands of miles away from Nepal, preserving and celebrating our culture with such reverence.

We shared stories, ate together, and laughed late into the night. That evening, they earned my respect for their dedication to keeping our traditions alive. Their version of chamre (a ceremonial rice dish) was exquisite, and the tite Chicken – a dish I had never tried before – was unforgettable. From that day on, I vowed never to overlook Maghe Sankranti again.

Maghe Sankranti marks the sun’s transition into Capricorn (Makara), symbolizing the end of the darkest, coldest days and the start of longer, warmer ones. This shift, both astronomical and symbolic, is celebrated with rituals, food, and gatherings across Nepal and in Nepali-speaking communities worldwide.

On Maghe Sankranti, families across Nepal enjoy steamed tubers like yam (rato tarul), sweet potatoes (sakar kanda), and potatoes. These humble roots are not only nutritious but also carry cultural significance. In rural areas, tubers were often the only available food during harsh winters. Rich in carbohydrates, fiber, and potassium, they provide the energy and warmth needed to combat the cold.

Tilauri, or sesame seed laddus, paired with ghue (clarified butter) and chaku (jaggery), is a quintessential Maghe Sankranti offering. Sesame seeds are revered in Hindu culture, symbolizing purity, prosperity, and health. In the cold months, their high fat and nutrient content nourish the body, while jaggery provides essential minerals and a natural energy boost. Ghee, with its warming and lubricating properties, complements the combination perfectly.

Together, these foods embody the Nepali philosophy of balancing taste, health, and spiritual significance.

Maghe Sankranti is celebrated differently across Nepal and its neighboring regions. Some communities celebrate it with Khitro or Khichadi, which is made with black gram (Vigna mungo) and rice and tilkut (sesame candy).

In some communities, unique dishes like tite chicken – a bittersweet curry along with burnt chicken feathers ash – are prepared. This dish, though uncommon, reflects the fusion of local ingredients with traditional cooking methods.

Maghe Sankranti foods are not just delicious, they are also aligned with seasonal needs. Winter is a time when the body requires extra calories and nutrients to stay warm and healthy. The festival’s emphasis on tubers, sesame seeds, jaggery, and ghee reflects an ancient understanding of nutrition.

Ayurveda, the traditional system of medicine, highlights these foods as winter staples for balancing vata (the air element) and keeping the body grounded and nourished.

The experience I had in New York that year taught me a profound lesson: traditions aren't confined to geography. They live on in the hearts and kitchens of those who cherish them. For me, Maghe Sankranti is now a day to pause, reflect, and celebrate – not just the food but also the stories, memories, and people that make it meaningful.

So, this Maghe Sankranti, let us steam our tubers, roll our tilauris, and share a meal with family and friends near or far. Because at the heart of it, this festival is about warmth: the warmth of food, community, tradition, and celebrating together.

The author is a UK-based R&D chef

When I first tasted fresh sumac at the spice market in Istanbul, the tangy flavor instantly transported me back to my childhood in Nepal. It reminded me of ‘bhakamilo’ (Rhus javanica Miller), a local Nepali berry we used to snack on during childhood after swimming in the Kahu Khola river. To my surprise, bhakamilo and sumac share a familial connection, both belonging to the Rhus genus in the Anacardiaceae family. While sumac (Rhus coriaria) is a staple in Middle Eastern cuisine, bhakamilo remains an underappreciated gem in Nepal. 

Sumac and bhakamilo are shrubs known for their vibrant berries and aromatic foliage. While sumac grows across the Mediterranean, bhakamilo thrives in the foothills of the Himalayas, between 800 and 1200 meters. Both are members of the Anacardiaceae family, which also includes mangoes, pistachios, and cashews. Bhakamilo is commonly found on hill slopes and forested areas of Nepal, flourishing in the temperate climate. Despite its abundance, its culinary potential remains largely untapped.

Bhakamilo holds a nostalgic place in traditional Nepali life. For many of us, its tangy taste evokes memories of carefree childhood days spent exploring forests and indulging in wild edibles. The reddish berries, often consumed fresh, offered a burst of tartness that became synonymous with rural living. However, unlike sumac, which has found its way into spice blends like za’atar and is widely used in Middle Eastern cuisine, Bhakamilo has not been integrated into Nepali culinary practices beyond its role as a wild berry snack.

In Middle Eastern cuisine, sumac is celebrated for its lemony flavor, often used to brighten salads, kebabs, and rice dishes. Bhakamilo could serve a similar purpose in Nepali cuisine. Its tanginess could enhance dishes like gundruk ko achar (fermented leafy green pickle) or kwati (mixed bean soup), adding a refreshing acidity that complements earthy flavors.

Bhakamilo’s versatility extends beyond traditional recipes. It could be used in marinades, dry rubs, or dressings for meats such as lamb or duck, much like it enhances fatty meats in Levantine dishes. Additionally, it could be sprinkled over salads, stirred into yogurt, or even incorporated into rice dishes. Its potential to bridge traditional and modern culinary styles makes it an exciting ingredient for chefs and home cooks alike.

Bhakamilo is rich in antioxidants, particularly tannins and anthocyanins, which contribute to its vibrant color and astringent taste. Traditional medicine in Nepal has long used bhakamilo for digestive ailments, sore throats, and inflammation. Its natural acidity stimulates digestion, making it a valuable addition to pickles and fermented foods. As scientific studies increasingly highlight the health benefits of sumac, including its anti-inflammatory and antimicrobial properties, bhakamilo could gain recognition as a wellness-enhancing ingredient.

As Nepali cuisine evolves, the time is right to reintroduce bhakamilo. Its tangy flavor and cultural significance make it a promising addition to contemporary dishes. Similar to za’atar, a spice mix using ground bhakamilo, herbs, roasted sesame seeds, and salt could create a distinctly Nepali seasoning. This blend could enhance flatbreads, salads, or marinades.

Nepal’s tradition of pickling could benefit from bhakamilo’s acidity. Incorporating it into chutneys and pickles would add a unique tang. Ground bhakamilo could be used as a garnish for dishes like sekuwa (grilled meat), choila (spiced meat salad), or bhuteko bhat (fried rice), providing both flavor and visual appeal.

Its sourness pairs well with creamy textures, making it an ideal addition to yogurt-based dips and sauces. Bhakamilo’s tang could elevate desserts such as rice puddings or fruit salads, offering a creative fusion of flavors.

Reintroducing bhakamilo into Nepali cuisine presents both challenges and opportunities. Its limited culinary awareness requires education for chefs, home cooks, and food enthusiasts. Additionally, harvesting and processing bhakamilo on a commercial scale might be challenging due to its specific habitat. However, the global interest in foraged and indigenous ingredients presents an opportunity for Nepal to position bhakamilo as a niche product with cultural and commercial value.

Local farmers, cooperatives, and entrepreneurs could play a pivotal role in bringing bhakamilo to market. Its potential as a culinary ingredient, combined with its health benefits, makes it an attractive proposition for both domestic and international markets.

Bhakamilo is a symbol of Nepal’s rich biodiversity and culinary heritage. Rediscovering its potential could reconnect the younger generation to their cultural roots through food. As Nepal’s cuisine continues to expand its horizons, embracing bhakamilo could serve as a bridge between tradition and innovation.

By exploring its diverse applications, Nepal can preserve the flavor of bhakamilo for future generations while introducing it to a global audience. This humble berry has the potential to become a staple spice, enriching dishes with its unique taste and connecting people to the vibrant landscapes where it grows.

The author is a UK-based R&D chef

In his famous poem on Nepal’s societal and political dynamics, Bhupi Sherchan described the country as ‘hallai halla ko desh’ (land of uproar and rumors). Reflecting on that sentiment, there was a time when whispers spread about Indian sweet shop owners allegedly conspiring against Nepal’s gudpak industry. This was during a crackdown by the Department of Food Technology and Quality Control (DFTQC) on gudpak shops in Kathmandu’s New Road in September 2011.

The raids unearthed alarming levels of toxins, bacteria, and acidic elements in gudpak, which could cause food poisoning. Shop owners faced legal battles and imprisonment, leaving many to believe it marked the end of this beloved Nepali delicacy. But gudpak proved resilient, making a remarkable comeback despite the setbacks.

For me, gudpak is more than just a sweet treat. It’s a comforting slice of my childhood, infused with nostalgia. Living in the UK, I often try to replicate its taste with Indian or Pakistani sweets like habsi haluwa. But nothing quite matches the unique charm of gudpak. Every bite reminds me of Kathmandu, where it was not just food but an emotional and communal experience.

Back in the day, gudpak was a treasured gift. Whenever someone traveled from Pokhara to Kathmandu, the one repeated request was, “Bring back gudpak.” It wasn’t merely a snack but a symbol of love, capable of lighting up entire households. I recall waiting eagerly for my uncle’s visits, certain he’d bring that familiar box of gudpak. It wasn’t just our family that celebrated. Even neighbors joined in on the excitement. Gudpak, in those moments, was about more than taste—it was about shared joy and community.

Though many renowned Gudpak shops in Kathmandu have closed, the sweet remains alive in my memories. Gudpak is a part of my identity, tying me to Kathmandu’s bustling streets and my childhood in Nepal.

The story of gudpak’s creation is as layered as the sweet itself. Some believe it emerged from Nepali confectioners’ creativity, blending leftover sweets into a harmonious new recipe. Others trace its origins to the early 20th century, crediting Panna Lal Maskey, who introduced gudpak to Kathmandu in 1933 at his Ason shop. The name itself derives from ‘gud’ (jaggery or edible gum) and ‘pak(h)’ (the process of cooking). This innovative fusion secured gudpak’s place in Nepal’s culinary heritage.

Gudpak starts with a creamy base of khuwa or khoa, made from buffalo or cow milk, renowned for its rich texture and flavor. The finest khuwa, often sourced from Banepa or Panauti, can even stand alone as a treat. Nuts, dried fruits, and spices—like almonds, cashews, dates, and watermelon seeds—are then folded into it. The result is a fragrant, caramel-colored delight, best enjoyed fresh for its gooey and soft texture.

Modern gudpak production has evolved, with gas stoves replacing traditional wood-fired methods. While techniques have changed, the essence of gudpak—a nutrient-dense, flavorful confection—remains intact.

Among gudpak varieties, sutkeri gudpak holds special significance. Made specifically for new mothers, it includes herbs like battisa powder (a blend of 32 herbs) and jesthalangwadi (another 14-herb mix). It’s believed to support postpartum recovery, providing energy, warmth, and immunity. Even today, it’s a cherished gift for new mothers, symbolizing nourishment and care.

Gudpak is a cultural emblem. A 2010 survey revealed that gudpak was particularly popular among the Newa community, often featuring in celebrations and festivals. Annually, about 579 metric tonnes of Gudpak are produced, with the industry valued at Rs 192.5 million. A kilogram of quality gudpak sells for around Rs 800, reflecting its continued importance in Nepali culture.

Despite its cultural significance, the gudpak industry faces challenges. Many iconic shops have closed due to competition from Indian sweets and Western desserts. However, stalwarts like Shree Ganesh Mithai Pasal and Best Mithai Sweet Shop continue to uphold the tradition, catering to loyal customers with authentic gudpak and pustakari.

Gudpak’s legacy endures, connecting generations and preserving its place in Nepal’s culinary and cultural landscape. In Kathmandu, gudpak remains a beloved treat, especially during festivals and as a gift for loved ones.

Whenever I long for home, I close my eyes and relive the sweet memory of gudpak—its rich flavor and emotional resonance tethering me to my roots in Nepal. It’s more than a confection. It’s an irreplaceable part of my life and identity.

During my travels across 79 countries, I’ve encountered a myriad of flavors, from the buttery aroma of freshly baked croissants in Paris to the rich, hearty scent of bread in Turkey and Austria. Being an early riser by nature, I’ve often walked the streets of these places, enchanted by the art of baking.

Growing up in Pokhara, however, bread was a rare luxury—a delicacy my father would bring home only for special occasions. Birthdays were marked with fruit cake if my father was home. Otherwise, homemade laddus and simple sharbat sufficed for celebration. I vividly recall the joy of unwrapping a cupcake sprinkled with coconut—a luxury in those days, where even a sprinkle of peanuts could elevate the treat. Today, despite the abundant offerings of bakeries worldwide, it’s these simple, nostalgic flavors that hold the greatest charm for me, especially the timeless Krishna Pauroti of Nepal.

In Nepal, bread (pauroti) owes much of its legacy to the pioneering efforts of the Karnikar family, especially Krishna Bahadur Rajkarnikar. His journey as a baker began 76 years ago when he returned from India and established Nepal’s first bakery of its kind. Krishna Pauroti, the bakery he founded, became synonymous with bread in Nepal, and its legacy endures to this day.

Krishna Bahadur, the visionary behind Krishna Pauroti, honed his baking skills during his time in Calcutta, India. Inspired by the bustling tea stalls he encountered there, he envisioned introducing a similar culture to Nepal. In 1948, upon his return, he set up Krishna Pauroti in Kamal Pokhari, Kathmandu, along with a tea stall. This combination of freshly brewed tea and warm bread was revolutionary, marking the dawn of Nepal’s fast-food culture.

Bisheshwar Prasad Koirala, fondly known as Sanu Dai, was one of the regular patrons of Krishna Bahadur’s tea stall, further cementing the bakery’s reputation as a space where influential figures and ordinary folk alike could enjoy the humble pleasure of bread. Beyond introducing pauroti to Kathmandu, Krishna Bahadur mentored countless others, inspiring a wave of pauroti entrepreneurs across Nepal and beyond.

Krishna Pauroti was a cultural institution. Krishna Bahadur’s son, Ghanshyam Raj Karnikar, now 84, came to be known as Nepal’s ‘King of Pauroti.’ The Karnikar family’s ties to historical figures like Maharaj Bir Shamsher, through Krishna Bahadur’s friend Heera Man Singh, imbued Krishna Pauroti with a sense of heritage and tradition deeply rooted in Nepal’s history.

The Karnikars belong to the Halwai community, known for their mastery of sweets and delicacies. Their family name, Raj Karnikar, means ‘Royal Crafter,’ an apt title for a lineage that brought an artisanal touch to Nepali cuisine. Krishna Bahadur’s innovative techniques, learned during his time in India, helped Krishna Pauroti stand out as Nepal’s premier bakery.

For many years, Krishna Pauroti was the go-to bakery in Kathmandu, synonymous with quality and tradition. The bakery introduced bread varieties unfamiliar to Nepal, experimenting with ingredients like millet and buckwheat. By incorporating native grains, Krishna Pauroti fused local ingredients with traditional baking methods, offering familiar flavors in novel forms.

Even King Mahendra was a regular customer, and royal patronage helped solidify Krishna Pauroti’s status as a top-tier bakery. In 1972, Krishna Pauroti transitioned into a private limited company, ushering in a new chapter for the bakery.

Today, Krishna Pauroti is more than a bread bakery. It has expanded its offerings to include cakes, cookies, and other baked goods, adapting to the evolving demands of a changing Nepal. Despite its modern expansion, the bakery remains true to its roots, embodying the humble craftsmanship and dedication of its founder.

Operating from four locations in the Kathmandu Valley—Kamal Pokhari, Khumaltar, Hattiban, and Mahalaxmi—Krishna Pauroti continues to offer a taste of nostalgia alongside its innovative creations.

Krishna Bahadur not only founded a bakery but also inspired a generation of bakers and entrepreneurs. Many of those he trained went on to establish their own bakeries, spreading the legacy of Krishna Pauroti within Nepal and beyond. His influence significantly contributed to the growth of Nepal’s bakery scene, cultivating an appreciation for bread and pastries in a culture previously unfamiliar with such foods.

Whenever I visit Krishna Pauroti, ‘am reminded of the simplicity of my childhood treats in Pokhara and the joy of savoring a fruit cake or a coconut-sprinkled cupcake. It’s remarkable to see how far the bakery has come—from a single tea stall to a network of bakeries that remain at the heart of Nepal’s culinary landscape.

The evolution of Krishna Pauroti mirrors Nepal’s growth, transforming from a modest yet ambitious enterprise into a symbol of entrepreneurship and resilience. Through every loaf of bread and every pastry, Krishna Pauroti continues to tell the story of its founders and the flavors of a nation.

As the scent of freshly baked bread wafts through Kathmandu’s streets, Krishna Pauroti serves as a beautiful reminder of Nepal’s culinary journey—from its humble beginnings to its role in shaping modern Nepali food culture. It’s a story of dedication, realized dreams, and a family’s unwavering commitment to their craft.

As Dashain approaches, Nepal is filled with the aromas of spices, roasted meats, and the warmth of family gatherings. For me, memories of childhood in Kathmandu come flooding back—flying kites on rooftops, the colorful creations dancing in the sky, and the sound of laughter all around. Kite-flying was more than a game. It was a way to bond with family and friends, celebrating freedom and joy.

During breaks from kite battles, we’d enjoy simple, yet unforgettable snacks made by our mothers. The cool, crisp weather of the season added to the perfect festive atmosphere. Now, as a chef, these memories inspire me to craft a Dashain feast that embodies togetherness, tradition, and flavor, especially for meat lovers in the family.

A feast rooted in tradition

Dashain is known for its hearty meat dishes, symbolizing abundance and unity. Growing up, goat pakku (slow-cooked meat), mutton curry, and sukuti (dried meat) were festival staples. This year, I aim to celebrate those traditional flavors while introducing a few new dishes from different Nepali communities. My goal is to bring fresh ideas to the table, allowing everyone to experience something new while staying rooted in tradition.

Dashain is not just about food. It’s about creating memories and bonding over shared meals. By showcasing dishes from various communities, we can celebrate our rich Nepali culinary heritage while bringing different traditions together.

Rayo ko saag with goat fat: A Dharane delight

One dish I’m excited to serve this year is ‘rayo ko saag’ (mustard greens) cooked with fatty goat meat. Popular in eastern Nepal, especially in Dharan, this dish combines tender, fatty goat meat with slightly bitter mustard greens. The goat fat adds a rich, melt-in-your-mouth quality, creating a comforting dish perfect for Dashain. It’s simple yet deeply satisfying.

Tite wachipa: A bold Kirat dish

For those eager to try something new, I recommend ‘tite wachipa’, a traditional dish from the Kirat community. Made with chicken and a bitter herb, wachipa offers a unique blend of bitterness and spice. It’s not commonly found on Dashain tables, but it’s perfect for pre-festival meals. The bitter herb is said to cleanse the palate, making wachipa an intriguing addition to a meat-heavy feast.

Pakku and taas: A tasty duo

Goat pakku is a classic Dashain dish, but why not mix things up with taas from Chitwan? Taas is stir-fried mutton, marinated and cooked until crispy on the outside yet tender on the inside. Served with bhuja  (puffed rice), it’s a delicious alternative to traditional pakku. By rotating between pakku and taas, you can keep things fresh while offering familiar flavors.

Goat katia: A Mithila specialty

Another dish I’d love to introduce is goat katia, a spicy stew from the Mithila community. Slow-cooked to perfection, this dish is packed with layers of flavor as the spices infuse the meat. Paired with fresh roti or rice, goat katia is perfect for a festive gathering. It’s simple yet sophisticated, leaving your family talking about it long after the meal is over.

Sekuwa: A grilled favorite

No Dashain feast is complete without sekuwa, Nepal’s famous grilled meat. Whether made from goat, chicken, or buffalo, sekuwa’s smoky, spiced flavor is synonymous with celebration. This year, I plan to dedicate one day just for sekuwa, marinated in Nepali spices, grilled to perfection, and served with achar and salad. Its simplicity allows the meat’s flavor to shine, making it a must-have for any festive meal.

Haku choila: A Newari classic

Another dish perfect for Dashain is haku choila, a Newari-style grilled buffalo meat. Seasoned with mustard oil, garlic, and chili, this smoky, bold-flavored dish is a favorite for meat lovers. Paired with traditional ayla (Newari rice wine), haku choila adds an exciting element to the pre-festival celebrations.

Chicken roast: A dashain tradition

No Dashain feels complete without a festive chicken roast. This dish, reminiscent of grand family gatherings, features chicken marinated in spices and slow-roasted until crispy and tender. The aroma alone is enough to draw everyone to the table. A well-cooked chicken roast adds a touch of elegance and warmth to any Dashain meal.

Pulau with roast lamb or chicken

This year, I’m introducing a new twist on tradition by serving pulau, a spiced rice dish, topped with either roast lamb or chicken. Pulau brings a sense of occasion to the table, reminding me of grand wedding feasts. Paired with khutti (bone broth) and timmur and tomato achar, it’s a hearty, satisfying dish that brings a festive spirit to Dashain.

As we prepare for Dashain 2024, let’s make it a celebration to remember with a feast of mouth-watering, spicy, tangy dishes that will leave a lasting impression. Let’s celebrate not just with food but with memories that warm the heart and soul, bringing family and friends closer together during this special time.

The author is a UK-based R&D chef