Muhammad Usman Amin

PESHAWAR: In Peshawar, a city in northwestern Pakistan renowned for its food, one restaurant stands out not only for its taste but for its unapologetic celebration of meat. Situated on the main University Road, directly under the flight path of the airplanes landing and taking off from the airport runway right across the road, Shinwari Pulao has become a legendary destination for meat-lovers since its inception in 1994. The restaurant&#39;s fame rests on its namesake dish, Shinwari Pulao. It is not just a plate of rice with meat but rather a mountain of meat with a bit of rice. Carnivorous cravings &nbsp;This is the main reason for its appeal in a region that takes its carnivorous cravings very seriously. The meat, tender mutton, is cooked to perfection. It is succulent, juicy, and richly marbled, with soft bone marrow served alongside. The creator of this phenomenon is Yar Muhammad, who started with a small shop and a unique vision. Kabuli Pulao is the main rice dish famous in the northwestern province of Khyber Pakhtunkhwa, and he deliberately wanted to depart from the standard. Instead of cooking components separately like Kabuli Pulao, his method involves simmering the meat and rice together in the meat&#39;s own flavorful broth, removing the meat and cooking it a second time separately to render the fat, and adding it to the rice again, but without using any heavy spices in the dish. Good rice and rich meat&nbsp;&quot;The reason for the rice&#39;s flavor is that for every one kilo of rice we cook, we add at least 17 to 18 kilos of meat,&quot; he reveals. This huge ratio is the secret to the dish&#39;s rich umami flavor that satisfies even the most intense cravings. The result is a very simple dish &mdash; just good rice and rich meat. The natural flavor of the high-quality mutton flows through, creating a rich, gelatinous broth that the rice cooks in for hours. The dish is finished with a generous sprinkle of julienned carrots and raisins, lightly fried in sugar, adding a touch of sweetness that cuts through the richness. &lsquo;Unique taste&rsquo;&nbsp;This focus on quality and quantity has turned Shinwari Pulao from a small shop into a large establishment occupying an entire plaza.&nbsp; During lunch and dinner, hundreds of customers throng the place, from locals to travelers who have heard of its legendary status. &quot;I have eaten at other restaurants, but the taste of this place&#39;s rice is unique,&quot; says Muhammad Salim, a regular customer from Kurram District currently working in Peshawar, who came along with his friends. &quot;The meat is tender, soft, and delicious. That&#39;s the main reason we come here.&quot; For anyone visiting Peshawar, a meal at Shinwari Pulao is more than just dinner: it is an experience that speaks to the heart of Pashtun hospitality and its profound love for meat.

Culture

For anyone visiting Pakistan's northwestern city of Peshawar,  a meal at Shinwari Pulao is more than just dinner: it is an experience that speaks to the heart of Pashtun hospitality and its profound love for meat.

More meat than rice: How one Peshawar restaurant became a carnivore's paradise

PESHAWAR: Lal Chapoor stood at his raised platform as he had for forty years, a metal ladle in his hand, steam rising in soft clouds around him. His movements were measured and unhurried: dip, scoop, pour, filling bowl after bowl of slow-cooked mutton and potatoes. The bustle around him was constant, but he remained steady, the quiet center of a noisy, crowded world. Inside his shop, the sounds blended into a rhythm of their own: dishes clattering, tandoor flames roaring, and servers shouting orders as they navigated the tight space with trays lifted over customers&rsquo; heads. Outside, Karkhano Market churned with heat, bargaining voices, and the dust of Peshawar&rsquo;s old trade routes. Yet it was the savory aroma drifting from the shop&rsquo;s modest five-foot entrance that drew people in from nearby streets and faraway cities. Speaking to Pakistan TV Digital, Lal Chapoor said the secret to his famous Rosh was not in hidden spices or complicated recipes. &ldquo;It requires honesty,&rdquo; he explained, his tone calm. &ldquo;You can&rsquo;t cook it with dishonesty&hellip; the taste won&rsquo;t be there.&rdquo; His day began at sunrise. He supervised the butcher himself, inspecting every cut of meat. The ingredients were simple&mdash;mutton, potatoes, onions, and salt. The daig, a giant pot, was sealed with wet flour and left to cook slowly for hours, the steam locked inside until the meat fell apart at the touch. &ldquo;The magic is in how you make it,&rdquo; he said. Over the past few years, his shop had gone from a local secret to a nationwide destination. Food bloggers, vloggers, travelers, and families came after seeing his stew on TikTok, Instagram, and YouTube. Men like Muhammad Jaleel traveled seven hours from Upper Dir just to taste what they had seen online, and many nodded in quiet approval after their first bite. There were no reserved tables or restaurant d&eacute;cor. Customers sat shoulder to shoulder on mats spread across the floor. Students, traders, drivers, and businessmen all eating together. Hot naan arrived fresh from the tandoor next door, torn into pieces and dipped into the broth. In a city of fleeting trends and new eateries opening every month, Lal Chapoor had remained unchanged. The daig, the ingredients, the pace, the flavor: all the same as when he started. As he handed another steaming bowl to a server, he told Pakistan TV Digital, &ldquo;The work must stay the same. The taste must stay the same. If the taste changes, it is finished.&rdquo; Outside, the line continued to grow. Inside, the ladle kept moving. And the aroma continued to guide people through the crowd, just as it always had.

Food

In Pakistan’s Khyber Pakhtunkhwa, Lal Chapoor has spent four decades serving his famous Rosh in Peshawar’s Karkhano Market. He told Pakistan TV Digital the dish’s enduring flavor comes from “honesty,” drawing visitors from across the country


Lal Chapoor: The quiet master behind Peshawar’s famous Rosh

<span style="font-size: 18px; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; color: rgb(0, 0, 0); background-color: transparent; font-weight: 400; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">PESHAWAR: Muhammad Sakhi leans over a steaming counter, lifting fresh plates of Mantu as customers line up shoulder to shoulder in the narrow basement restaurant. The air is warm with the scent of yogurt, spices, and rising steam.<span style="font-size: 18px; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; color: rgb(0, 0, 0); background-color: transparent; font-weight: 400; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">Outside, the busy market of Peshawar, in Pakistan&rsquo;s northwestern frontier near the border with Afghanistan, roars with traffic, fruit vendors and old tea stalls but inside Sakhi&rsquo;s shop, the world slows to the rhythm of his hands &mdash; steady, graceful, familiar.<span style="font-size: 18px; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; color: rgb(0, 0, 0); background-color: transparent; font-weight: 400; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">He has been doing this almost his entire life.<span style="font-size: 18px; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; color: rgb(0, 0, 0); background-color: transparent; font-weight: 400; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">Now in his late 40s, Sakhi began working at the age of nine. &ldquo;I started this business in 1992,&rdquo; he tells Pakistan TV Digital, remembering the early days. &ldquo;I worked with someone else first and learned the craft from him.&rdquo;<span style="font-size: 18px; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; color: rgb(0, 0, 0); background-color: transparent; font-weight: 400; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">The lessons stayed with him &mdash; how to knead dough the right way, how to balance spices, how to make food that feels like home. Today, his small kitchen is one of Peshawar&rsquo;s most well-known destinations for Afghani Mantu and the Afghani Burger, dishes tied to Afghan identity, memory and migration.<span style="font-size: 18px; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; color: rgb(0, 0, 0); background-color: transparent; font-weight: 400; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">The Mantu steamer sits tall and gleaming, each tier filled with dumplings carefully stuffed with minced meat, onions and warm Afghan spices. When cooked, Sakhi plates them with a wide, practiced motion: first the &ldquo;chaka,&rdquo; a thick Afghan yogurt; then a spoonful of warm lentils; a sprinkle of fresh salad; and finally, French fries, which melt slightly into the yogurt and sauce below. The dish is soft, rich and comforting &mdash; more than a meal, it is memory on a plate.<span style="font-size: 18px; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; color: rgb(0, 0, 0); background-color: transparent; font-weight: 400; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">For Arshad Khan, a regular customer, it is the reason he keeps returning. &ldquo;Their specialty is the Afghani Burger and the Afghani Mantu,&rdquo; he says, watching Sakhi work.<span style="font-size: 18px; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; color: rgb(0, 0, 0); background-color: transparent; font-weight: 400; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">&ldquo;I personally love the Mantu because of the &lsquo;chaka&rsquo; they use. The taste... it&rsquo;s truly authentic Afghan flavor.&rdquo;<span style="font-size: 18px; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; color: rgb(0, 0, 0); background-color: transparent; font-weight: 400; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">He explains that nothing about the dish is rushed. &ldquo;It&rsquo;s made very simply, steamed. We&rsquo;ve seen how they make it since we&rsquo;ve been coming here for a long time. The taste is excellent. It&rsquo;s really good. I love it!&rdquo;<span style="font-size: 18px; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; color: rgb(0, 0, 0); background-color: transparent; font-weight: 400; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">But if the Mantu is gentle, the Afghani Burger is bold. On the other side of the kitchen, naan warms on a hot griddle. Sakhi spreads it with fries, sliced meatloaf, sausages, smoked chicken, cheese, salad and a bright house-made tomato chutney.<span style="font-size: 18px; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; color: rgb(0, 0, 0); background-color: transparent; font-weight: 400; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">&ldquo;The Afghani Burger is the kind of food that... once someone tries it, they get hooked,&rdquo; he says with a smile. &ldquo;But only if the quality is good.&rdquo; Customization is part of the experience. &ldquo;We add sausages, meatloaf, smoked chicken, cheese... many items, brother.&rdquo;<span style="font-size: 18px; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; color: rgb(0, 0, 0); background-color: transparent; font-weight: 400; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">If a customer asks for a special version, he adds more meat, more flavor, more heart.<span style="font-size: 18px; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; color: rgb(0, 0, 0); background-color: transparent; font-weight: 400; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">People travel for this flavor.<span style="font-size: 18px; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; color: rgb(0, 0, 0); background-color: transparent; font-weight: 400; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">Naeem Ullah, holding a freshly wrapped burger, says, &ldquo;I&rsquo;ve traveled here from District Khyber. I&rsquo;ve been coming here for about three to four years. Their specialty, and what they&rsquo;re known for, is the Afghani Burger. I just had one, and it&rsquo;s incredibly tasty.&rdquo;<span style="font-size: 18px; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; color: rgb(0, 0, 0); background-color: transparent; font-weight: 400; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">He glances around the room. &ldquo;Their staff and the whole place are very clean and very high quality.&rdquo;<span style="font-size: 18px; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; color: rgb(0, 0, 0); background-color: transparent; font-weight: 400; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">For Afghan families who crossed into Pakistan during difficult years, these dishes carry the taste of home. For Pakistanis, they have become beloved local favorites. For Sakhi, they are a life&rsquo;s work, served one plate at a time in the warmth of steam, spice and steady hands.

Afghan burgers from a shop in Peshawar (Muhammad Usman)

A crowded basement eatery fills with steam, spices, and conversation as customers line up for Mantu and Afghani burgers, foods carrying nostalgia, Afghan culinary tradition, and a devoted following built on flavor, memory, and generous hospitality.

In Peshawar, Afghani burger and Mantu keep refugee traditions alive

PESHAWAR: In a crowded corridor of Peshawar&rsquo;s Hayatabad Medical Complex (HMC), Waheedullah sits quietly on a plastic chair, his hands wrapped around a chipped cup of tea. His eyes dart toward the intensive care ward every time the door opens. Inside lies his younger brother, Inayatullah, who has just undergone surgery, his fourth in two years. &ldquo;We came here because the doctors in Kabul said Pakistan was our only hope,&rdquo; he tells Pakistan TV Digital. &ldquo;Back home, they had done everything they could. But my brother was still in pain.&rdquo; Waheedullah and his family travelled from Afghanistan&rsquo;s Kunar province, carrying little more than a few clothes and a small bag of documents. Their journey through the Torkham border was long and anxious, one that thousands of Afghans make each month in search of medical care they can no longer find at home.&nbsp;Lifeline across the borderFor Afghans like Inayatullah, Pakistan&rsquo;s hospitals have become a lifeline. Every day, a quiet stream of patients crosses into Peshawar, a city now known as a hub for cross-border healthcare. &ldquo;We receive about 10 to 12 Afghan patients daily on medical visas,&rdquo; said Dr Muhammad Ikram, a resident surgeon at HMC. &ldquo;Most of them come with complicated cases, often after unsuccessful surgeries in Afghanistan. Many are post-operative or cancer patients who simply couldn&rsquo;t get the right treatment there.&rdquo; Afghanistan&rsquo;s healthcare system has been in free fall since 2021. The Taliban&rsquo;s return to power, the withdrawal of aid, and the exodus of trained professionals have left hospitals struggling to function. The World Health Organization estimates that one in five Afghans has no access to even basic healthcare. &ldquo;Patients often arrive in serious condition,&rdquo; Dr Ikram added. &ldquo;It&rsquo;s heartbreaking because many of these complications could have been prevented.&rdquo;&nbsp;&lsquo;Getting a visa&rsquo;At the nearby Torkham crossing, Afghan patients must present their medical documents for verification by a Pakistani doctor before being allowed entry. Shakeela, an Afghan student in Pakistan, recalls the ordeal of getting her father across for treatment. &ldquo;The medical visa is easier than others, but it&rsquo;s still a long process,&rdquo; she said. &ldquo;And if the treatment takes longer than the visa, you have to go back to Torkham to renew it. Imagine doing that when your father is on chemotherapy.&rdquo; Despite the hurdles, most families say they find compassion once they arrive. &ldquo;The hospital took us in without delay,&rdquo; Waheedullah said. &ldquo;They didn&rsquo;t ask for money right away, they just said, &lsquo;Let&rsquo;s start the treatment.&rsquo;&rdquo; According to Dr Ikram, core services such as doctor consultations, nursing, and hospital rooms are provided free of charge. Only certain medicines or specialized materials need to be bought privately.&nbsp;&lsquo;They treated us like family&rsquo;In another ward, Khawar, who travelled from Jalalabad with his wife, shares a similar story.&nbsp; &ldquo;In Afghanistan, they told us there was nothing more they could do,&rdquo; he said. &ldquo;Here, they treated us like family. The doctors listened, they explained, they cared.&rdquo; His wife&rsquo;s treatment is ongoing, but he says the kindness he encountered has stayed with him. &ldquo;When someone is sick, you stop thinking about borders. You just want help. And here, we found it.&rdquo;&nbsp;Prayers and hopeAs night settles over the hospital, the hum of machines mixes with the soft call to prayer echoing from a nearby mosque. Families spread their prayer mats along the corridor floors, quietly raising their hands for the health of their loved ones. Waheedullah joins them, bowing his head on a small mat he carries folded in his bag. &ldquo;In our village, when someone is ill, we pray together,&rdquo; he says. &ldquo;Here, I pray alone, but Allah is listening.&rdquo; When the prayer ends, he rolls up the mat carefully and returns to his seat, eyes fixed once again on the ward door. &ldquo;Pakistan gave my brother a second chance,&rdquo; he says quietly. &ldquo;That&rsquo;s something we will never forget.&rdquo;&nbsp;Compassion as diplomacyDespite the political strains between the two countries, Pakistan&rsquo;s hospitals continue to treat thousands of Afghan nationals each year. Health officials say the arrangement is both humanitarian and practical, an extension of decades of cross-border ties. &ldquo;When a patient crosses that border, they&rsquo;re not Afghan or Pakistani. They&rsquo;re just human,&rdquo; said one senior health official at HMC. And as the corridors of Peshawar&rsquo;s hospitals fill with whispered prayers and waiting hearts, that simple truth seems to carry louder than any politics, that in the act of healing, humanity itself finds its voice.

Health

Afghanistan’s collapsing healthcare system has forced thousands to seek treatment in Pakistan. With hospitals back home under-equipped and understaffed since 2021, Peshawar’s medical facilities have become a critical lifeline for Afghans in desperate need of care.

Healing without borders: Afghan patients find lifeline in Pakistan

PESHAWAR: In the heart of Peshawar, South Asia&rsquo;s oldest living city, a landmark that once lay hidden behind police barricades is now alive with families, schoolchildren, and history enthusiasts.&nbsp;Gor Khatri, a centuries-old archaeological complex, has been restored and reopened, transforming from a relic of forgotten empires into a vibrant cultural hub that reconnects residents with more than 2,000 years of heritage.&nbsp;The story of Gor Khatri is as layered as the soil beneath it.&nbsp;At first glance, visitors are struck by the grand Mughal-style gateway, a caravanserai commissioned in 1638 by Princess Jahanara Begum, daughter of Shah Jahan, the emperor who built the Taj Mahal. Yet beneath its courtyards lie remnants of much older civilizations.&nbsp;Archaeological excavations carried out in 2012 uncovered evidence of Indo-Greek, Scytho-Parthian, Kushan, Hindu Shahi, Sikh, and British eras, tracing Peshawar&rsquo;s urban footprint back to at least the 2nd century BC.&nbsp;&ldquo;The present building is from 1638,&rdquo; explained Dr. Noman Anwar, director of the Gor Khatri complex, while speaking to Pakistan TV Digital. &ldquo;But the artifacts found here prove that Peshawar has been continuously inhabited for over two millennia. It&rsquo;s like peeling back layers of history, empire after empire has left its mark here.&rdquo;&nbsp;If the Mughal princess gave Gor Khatri its architectural grandeur, the 19th century added a chapter of fearsome folklore. During the Sikh Empire, the site became the fortified base of Paolo Avitabile, an Italian mercenary governor notorious for his draconian punishments. His reign was so harsh that, to this day, mothers in Peshawar threaten misbehaving children with tales of &ldquo;Abu Tabela,&rdquo; a local rendering of his name.&nbsp;Yet for many locals, the most vivid memory of Gor Khatri is far less romantic. For decades, the site was sealed off, housing a police station instead of serving as a public space.&nbsp;Muhammad Bilal, a 50-year-old resident of the Walled City, remembers it well. &ldquo;In our youth, no one was allowed in. All we ever saw were police officers behind those gates,&rdquo; he said.&nbsp;&nbsp;&ldquo;Now it&rsquo;s different. It&rsquo;s a place where families can gather, relax, and feel connected to the past. That change matters.&rdquo;&nbsp;The revival has given Gor Khatri a new purpose. Today, its grounds include a branch of the Peshawar Museum, where artifacts unearthed on-site are displayed, alongside galleries that highlight the region&rsquo;s rich cultural traditions. A historic Hindu temple and a functioning mosque stand side by side, symbolizing the city&rsquo;s religious and cultural diversity through the centuries.&nbsp;Perhaps most striking is the work of local tourism promoter Maher Ullah, who dresses in Mughal-era robes to welcome visitors. Inside a curated room, he showcases weapons, costumes, and instruments from the Mughal, Sikh, Hindu, and British periods.&nbsp;&ldquo;People have forgotten these traditions,&rdquo; he told Pakistan TV Digital. &ldquo;I remind them of their culture, that Peshawar has always been a crossroads of civilizations.&rdquo;&nbsp;For Peshawar, Gor Khatri&rsquo;s reopening is more than an archaeological achievement. It is a reminder of the city&rsquo;s resilience, a place where ancient history and modern life now coexist. Locals stroll past centuries-old walls; children play where traders once rested after long Silk Road journeys.&nbsp;As resident Bilal put it simply: &ldquo;It is my wish that future generations come here, see this place, and learn what Peshawar has lived through. This is our history, alive again.&rdquo;

The restored Gor Khatri complex in Peshawar showcases 2,000 years of history, from Buddhist pilgrimage site to Mughal caravanserai and Sikh stronghold, with new excavations, museums, and cultural displays reconnecting locals to the city’s ancient heritage.

Gor Khatri’s revival brings Peshawar’s 2,000-year story back to life

PESHAWAR: Peshawar is one of South Asia&rsquo;s oldest living cities, more than two thousand years of history and culture echo in its streets. But nowhere is that legacy more alive than in Namak Mandi, the old salt market now humming with hungry crowds and the rich, smoky scent of cooking meat. In the old Namak Mandi, once a market for salt, food has taken center stage. Fittingly, the dishes that define it, Tikka and Karahi, are cooked with just salt, fire and lots of patience, carrying forward traditions as old as the city itself. Fresh meat, cut to order, drops into sizzling karahis or skewered on &lsquo;seikhs&rsquo; and slow‑cooked until tender. No heavy spices, no shortcuts. Just the purity of flavor carried down through generations of chefs. &ldquo;This smoky bazaar has become a stage where heritage meets modern fascination, from food bloggers to social media travelers, everyone&rsquo;s chasing a taste of Peshawar,&rdquo; said Chef Iftikhar Gul, his hands stained with charcoal, speaking to Pakistan TV. To walk into Namak Mandi is to immerse yourself in its warmth. For visitors, Namak Mandi offers more than a meal. It is an immersion into Peshawar&rsquo;s warmth. A chance to sit with strangers, share bread and taste a bit of history. A tourist, spooning curry into naan, reflects on the moment, savoring more than food, community. Tikka, roasted on skewers, recalls the nomads of Central and Western Asia who traveled through these lands. Karahi, cooked and shared in one pan, reflects the Pashtun spirit of communal hospitality. Together, they make Namak Mandi more than a food street, a crossroads of cultures. Among the smoke and sizzle, there is artistry. A young food blogger snaps photos of rolling smoke, the glow of charcoal, flickering flames beneath karahis heavy with meat. He posts them online: &ldquo;In Namak Mandi, food is more than taste, it is tradition, hospitality and history served on a plate.&rdquo; And in this tikka, smoky and simple, you discover why Peshawar is not just ancient. It is timeless. Every bite of Tikka and Karahi here seems to carry the layers of time: recipes carried in memory, methods passed down, techniques refined without modern gimmicks. The recipes are simple: fresh meat, salt, fire. Many have tried to replicate it, but as one local chef says, tradition lives in the patience, the smoke, the rhythm &mdash; in letting the meat speak for itself. As sunset bleeds into evening, Namak Mandi pulses. Charcoal fires flare dimly, woks clatter, laughter rises above the din. Food stalls glow under lamps; patrons, locals and visitors, sit elbow‑to‑elbow with shared curiosity and hunger. They taste more than spicy meat; they taste humility, ritual, authenticity. For families coming in after a long day, for travelers hunting flavor, for anyone seeking a piece of heritage, Namak Mandi delivers. It is simplicity made radiant. It is tradition toasted over flames. It is culinary faithfulness in a changing world.

Namak Mandi in Peshawar offers timeless flavors through fire-cooked Tikka and Karahi, blending ancient tradition, community spirit, and culinary heritage in a vibrant food bazaar.

Articles tagged with "Peshawar"

More meat than rice: How one Peshawar restaurant became a carnivore's paradise

Lal Chapoor: The quiet master behind Peshawar’s famous Rosh

In Peshawar, Afghani burger and Mantu keep refugee traditions alive

Healing without borders: Afghan patients find lifeline in Pakistan

Gor Khatri’s revival brings Peshawar’s 2,000-year story back to life

Namak Mandi: Where salt, fire, and Tikka forge Peshawar’s timeless flavor