My foodie friend Agha Imran informs me that there are now two supermarkets in Islamabad where you can get virtually every Chinese ingredient you could want. I suppose this is one of the spin-offs of the China-Pakistan Economic Corridor, and is greatly to be welcomed. It’s just a matter of time before speciality shops and restaurants spread to other cities to cater to the growing Chinese presence in Pakistan.

One new authentic restaurant I checked out with Imran and Azhar the other evening was the Wang Wang on Karachi’s Khayaban-i-Seher. Situated on the first floor, it is fairly bare, making little effort at creating a welcoming ambience and décor. But we had gone for the food, and were soon shown a very brief menu where everything centred around the classic hotpot. This is a metal bowl of broth and garlicky chilli oil that is heated on a portable paraffin cooker placed on your table. Accompanying it are the uncooked items you order to dip into the broth.

The hotpot has been a staple in China for at least a thousand years, and is especially popular in the winter. According to one theory, it originated in Mongolia. Now it is on menus across East Asia, and comes with a wide array of thinly sliced ingredients you can cook, including meat, poultry and seafood, together with whatever vegetables are in season.

Authentic Szechuan food is quite different from what passes as Chinese food in Pakistan

We were asked how hot we wanted our hotpot, and we ordered the normal Szechuan eye-watering stuff. The Chinese manager proceeded to place teaspoons of various ingredients such as crushed garlic, chopped coriander leaves and something that looked like peanut paste into our individual bowls. The idea is that after you have finished cooking all the ingredients, the hotpot has acquired a rich flavour, and is then divided among the diners and consumed as a soup.

The hotpot duly arrived, and was soon bubbling. When I dipped in my first piece of meat of indeterminate origin for a minute or so, and then popped it into my mouth with a pair of chopsticks, I felt as though my skull was going to explode: the hotpot contained not just dynamite red chillies, but lashings of Szechuan peppercorns. These produce a numbing effect on the lips and have placed Szechuan on the global foodie map for its powerful, unique flavour.

We then ordered a slightly milder version, but I soldiered on with the original fiery preparation. The truth is that searing chilli heat blankets the other flavours, and while it tests your determination, it also numbs the taste buds. Among the other ingredients we cooked in the hotpot were Shiitake mushrooms, leaves of kale salad, finely sliced beef and bits of veggies that went rather neglected. Try Wang Wang to experience some authentic Chinese cooking, but be warned that the menu does not contain the usual list of culinary clichés we have become accustomed to in Pakistan.

A world away in Switzerland, a far milder version called ‘fondue’ was developed in the 17th century. While it has many variations, the basic recipe calls for one or more mild cheese to be melted in a ceramic bowl with a glass of dry white wine, again over a portable paraffin cooker placed on the table. Bread and different vegetables are placed before the guests who then dip them in the molten cheese.

The Swiss government pushed the fondue as a national dish to encourage the consumption of cheese in the 1930s. In the ’60s and ’70s, it was popular at parties in America and Europe, but is no longer fashionable. Now, fondue sets comprising bowls and special two-pronged forks sit unused in dining rooms across Europe and America. But it’s an easy way to entertain as it promotes a communal spirit.

Published in Dawn, EOS, April 9th, 2017