By Marco Shalma.

If you want to feel the pulse of Pakistani New York, start in Jackson Heights right before dinner. Grills smoking. Halal carts heating up. Families crowding sidewalks. A row of restaurants stretching from 73rd to 74th that carry the weight of memory, migration, and mastery in every plate. Pakistani New Yorkers began arriving in larger waves in the 1970s and 80s, many settling in Queens, Coney Island Avenue in Brooklyn, the Bronx, and parts of Staten Island. They weren’t here for applause. They were here to work, build, and cook the dishes that held entire families together.

Nihari is the dish that says the most without raising its voice. Originally a Mughal-era breakfast stew, slow-cooked overnight until the beef falls apart and the gravy glows like polished copper. In Pakistan, nihari is morning fuel. In New York, it became a weekend anchor — the dish people crossed boroughs for, the meal that tasted like home in a country that didn’t always offer kindness. Cooks in Queens tend the pot like it’s a responsibility, not a recipe. One bowl can reset your whole week.

Chicken karahi carries the fire. A wok-like pan, a handful of ingredients. Tomato, ginger, garlic, chili, coriander; and heat that climbs fast. Karahi traveled with Pakistani immigrants who knew how to cook boldly even when kitchens were small. In New York, it became the dish you eat when you want to remember exactly where your people come from. You hear it before you taste it. The sizzle, the scrape, the aroma pushing through the dining room like a calling card.

Seekh kebab brings the street spirit. Minced meat mixed with spices, shaped onto skewers, grilled until smoky and tender. In Pakistan, you find it on roadside stands. In New York, you find it in storefronts squeezed between jewelry shops and travel agencies, where the grill master doesn’t need to say a word. One quick flip of the skewer tells you everything.

These dishes didn’t sit quietly in the corner of New York’s food scene. Pakistani New Yorkers built grocery stores, halal butchers, bakeries, mosques, language schools, and restaurants that doubled as meeting points for workers, students, and families figuring out their place in the city. Food became the connector, a way to build identity and offer warmth in a city that can feel cold.

To taste the lineage today, go to Dera Restaurant in Jackson Heights for nihari that moves with purpose. Visit Karahi Boys for chicken karahi that hits every note with clarity. And stop at Gourmet Sweets & Restaurant for seekh kebabs that carry the smoke and spice of Karachi nights.

Now you know: Pakistani New York didn’t arrive to fit in. It arrived to stand rooted, and feed the city with flavor that carries history in every bite.

Like this? Explore more from: