Few people would think Pakistan was comparable to Scotland. But when I moved to Glasgow eight months ago I realised the two had more common ground than I first thought. I find a subtle sense of familiarity in Scotland; like Pakistan, it has dramatic scenery, hospitable people and the history of invasions and migrations that have marked its culture and cuisine.

Flavour has always been my first connection to a place, and exploring the food in a new country has helped me find my place within it. Scottish food is much more than haggis and shortbread. Just like Pakistani cuisine, it is defined by seasonality and outstanding quality of produce. With these new ingredients around me, I’ve begun to substitute and experiment with classic Pakistani recipes.

As a child, I would wake up on a Sunday morning to be greeted by the smoky scent of fresh parathas being made on the tawa (flat griddle pan), my mouth watering in anticipation of breakfast. My mother made these by mixing mashed potato bhujia (stir-fried potato) into flour to make thick breads with generous amounts of fresh coriander, green chilli, cumin and ghee. When I moved to Glasgow, I was amazed at how similar parathas were to tattie scones – leftover mash mixed with flour and butter, best cooked on a cast iron “girdle” (as the griddle is known in Scotland). And just as comforting at the weekend.

In Pakistan, we eat a lot of mutton, goat and beef, which is either slow- cooked, stir-fried or barbecued with spices, or simply with animal fat and herbs, depending on where you ar. There’s a similar love for slow-cooked stews in Scotland, sometimes with simple herb flavours such as juniper, bay or thyme. Like Pakistani meat cooking, spices are subtle, to enhance rather than hide the taste of the meat. I’ve adapted my grandmother’s chukandar gosht (beetroot and beef curry) here with Scottish venison. Dark spices, such as smoky black cardamom, peppercorns and star anise add a dark depth of flavour similar to many Pakistani dishes. This recipe celebrates the Scottish and Pakistani love for sharing single-pot meals – in Scotland it can be broth or stews, in Pakistan it is biryani, nihari and haleem.

Lastly, the fragrance and flavour of Scottish summer raspberries are perfect for cranachan (the traditional way to serve it is to allow your guests to make up their own dessert, serving each element of the dish separately) – the traditional pudding of oats, cream and whisky – but I’ve used Hunza apricots here, which for me evoke early autumn in northern Pakistan.

I’ve really only started to explore the crossover between these cuisines, and how I can use new produce in my cooking. But in my journey from Karachi to Glasgow, I have realised I can find “home” through food, produce, culinary heritage and flavour – and the journey has only just begun.

Spiced winter squash and ‘tattie scone’ parathas (pictured above)



Serves 6-8

60g butternut squash, roasted until soft

1 medium potato, peeled, chopped, boiled and mashed

100g plain flour, plus extra for dusting

½ tsp salt

½ tsp ground turmeric

1 tsp cumin seeds, toasted

2 tbsp coriander, finely chopped

6 mint leaves, finely chopped

1 green chilli, finely chopped or ½ tsp red chilli flakes

2 spring onions, finely chopped

Juice of ½ lime

3–4 tbsp ghee, or 3-4 tbsp coconut, rapeseed or vegetable oil

1 Mix all the ingredients together, except the ghee, in a large bowl. Stir in the ghee, a little at a time, until the mixture reaches a dough-like consistency. Turn out on to a floured work surface and knead until smooth.

2 Divide the dough into tennis ball-sized pieces. Cover with a damp cloth.

3 Heat a griddle pan, tawa or frying pan over a high heat. When hot, add a little ghee, then reduce the heat to medium.

4 On a floured surface, roll each dough ball into a 6mm-thick patty. Place in the hot ghee and cook gently, pressing down the corners with a clean tea towel or kitchen paper, to ensure it browns evenly. When one side is cooked – about 3–4 minutes – turn over and cook the other side. Repeat with the remaining dough.

“In my journey from Karachi to Glasgow, I have realised I can find ‘home’ through food, produce, culinary heritage and flavour – and the journey has only just begun,” says Sumayya Usmani. Photograph: Elena Heatherwick/The Guardian

Venison and beetroot curry with black cardamom and cloves

Serves 2-3

3-4 tbsp sunflower oil

2.5cm piece of cinnamon

2 black cardamom pods

1 star anise

10-12 black peppercorns

2 dried red chillies

1 red onion, cut into half moons

2 garlic cloves, finely grated

225g plum tomatoes, cut in half

Salt

½ tsp turmeric

4 tbsp, plus 125ml, water

350g venison shoulder, diced

2 raw beetroot, peeled and blended roughly

1 tbsp coriander leaves, chopped and/or 1 tsp fresh ginger, julienned (to serve)

Juice of ¼ lemon (to serve)

1 Heat the oil until hot in a heavy pan, add the cinnamon, cardamom, anise, peppercorns and chilli, then stir until the oil is fragrant (about 30 seconds).

2 Add the red onion and cook until light brown (about 4-5 minutes), constantly stirring. Add the garlic, then cook for 2 minutes, until it no longer smells raw.

3 Tip in the tomatoes. Cook until half soft, about 3 minutes. Add the salt and turmeric, plus 4 tbsp of water, and stir.

4 Add the venison. Brown one side over a high heat for about 1 minute, then brown the other side. Toss in the raw beetroot, stir and cook for 2 minutes.

5 Add 125ml water, stir, cook until bubbling. Turn the heat to low, cover and cook for 50-60 minutes, checking occasionally. Add a splash of water, if needed. The venison should be tender and the sauce thick and vibrant.

6 Serve topped with coriander and/or ginger and lemon juice.

Hunza apricot, cardamom and heather honey cranachan. If you can’t find Hunza apricots, use dried figs or stewed fresh apricots. Photograph: Elena Heatherwick/The Guardian

Hunza apricot, cardamom and heather honey cranachan

Serves 4-6

400g dried Hunza apricots, soaked in water overnight

200-250g caster sugar

300ml whipping cream

2 tsp honey (preferably heather)

Seeds of ½ vanilla pod

1 tsp cardamom, freshly ground

2-3 tsp rose water

2 tbsp fine oatmeal

2 tbsp pistachios, chopped

2 tbsp edible pink rose petals

1 Squeeze the stones out of the apricots without cutting them open. Reserve any liquid. Bring the fruit and their liquid to the boil over a medium heat, stirring only occasionally.

2 Add the sugar and simmer until dissolved. After around 10 minutes, there should be a thick syrup surrounding the apricots. Turn the heat off and allow them to cool in the pan completely. Then refrigerate.

3 When ready to serve, whip the cream and honey into soft peaks, then add the vanilla seeds, cardamom and rose water. Stir through gently.

4 In a dry frying pan, toast the oatmeal and pistachios for 20-30 seconds, until lightly browned. Set aside.

5 Assemble by putting a spoonful of apricots with a little syrup in a serving bowl, then top with a spoonful of cream, some toasted oats and pistachios, rose petals and toasted oats. Serve cool.

