P
arwana Afghan Kitchen opened
on an unremarkable stretch of
road in Torrensville, Adelaide
in 2009. Farida Ayubi makes
the food, Zelmai acts as host, and on any
given evening, one or more of their five
daughters might work front of house.
Today, the family business spans their
flagship restaurant, plus a casual CBD
eatery called Kutchi Deli Parwana run
by the three middle Ayubi daughters
(and named for the nomadic tribe in
whose name they escaped Afghanistan)
and Shirni Parwana, a catering and
dessert outfit run by Fatema, the eldest
daughter and family pâtissière.
The menu at Parwana is brief but
demonstrative. It shows (in the space
of two entrées, eight or nine main courses
and a handful of sides) that the history
of Afghanistan’s food is the history of
migration. The country is landlocked,
bordered by six countries – Iran to the
west, Turkmenistan, Uzbekistan and
Tajikistan to the north, China to the
north-east, and Pakistan (including the
disputed region of Kashmir) to the east
and south – and each of its neighbours
has left its mark on the cuisine. Curries
abound, but their constitution is gentler
and more aromatic than their Indian or
Pakistani counterparts. As with most
of Asia, rice is central to the table, but
the Afghan version uses a firm, long
grain which is perfumed with a mix
of spices and studded with morsels of
fruit (sultanas, candied orange peel)
and nuts (slivered almond and pistachio).
More surprising, perhaps, to the
uninitiated, is theAfghan take on
dumplings: the mantu,steamed parcels
of meat or vegetables that resemble a
Chinese wonton; and the pierogi-like
ashak, which are stuffed with chives,
fried, and served under a generous
spoonful of minced lamb or dhal. You can
taste a hint of the Mediterranean, a little
Russia. Many Australians think Afghan
food begins and ends with grilled meat on
a stick. Parwana demonstrates otherwise.
Farida, the chef and matriarch of the
Ayubi family, was born in Qandahar,
Afghanistan’s second-largest city, in- Her father encouraged her to learn
how to cook, and from an early age she
became known among her relatives for
her beautiful rice, her okra, her fragrant
curries. All the women in her family were
encouraged to have careers, so she trained
as a teacher and worked in Kabul. It was
there, when she was newly married, that
she began frequenting a small, family-run
restaurant called Parwana. The name
means butterfly in Farsi.
“We would meet our friends there,
sit together, order food – it was like
what you’d make at home, or what your
grandma might make for you,” says Farida.
She loved Parwana so much that she
would sometimes work there, helping out
in the kitchen. It was in honour of those
happy memories that she named her own
restaurant Parwana. She is a small,
compact woman with a serious face, her
features framed by the headscarf she wears.
In photos, she exhibits a disinclination
towards smiling; her demeanour suggests
a life shaped by loss. In life, however, and
especially in the company of her family,
any impression of severity melts away. She
speaks softly, but laughs often. Her
kitchen, even when the restaurant is at
its busiest, is always an oasis of calm.
Front of house, things are anything
but. Farida says that from the night
they first opened, there’s been a line
around the block. “We have a small
menu, but people have their favourites,”
adds Fatema. “They’ll come the night
their favourite dish is on. Every few
years, we take dishes away and add
some, but there’s always an outcry.Right: looking
in on Parwana
Afghan Kitchen
in Torrensville.
Below right:
Zelmai Ayubi
at Parwana
Afghan Kitchen.80 GOURMET TRAVELLER