Reading Comprehension II Mission DUJAT 2021 II 16 September

Direction: Read the given passage carefully and answer the questions that follow.

According to an unlikely origin story from one of Japan’s leading commercial curry manufacturers, a starving Japanese boy hid himself aboard a British ship. Curry was served once a week by the British navy – the day that this boy happened to stow away. He was so delighted that he rushed home to tell his village about this wonderful flavour, spreading the news of curry throughout the land. You’ll notice in this tale that curry has very little to do with India.

So, what really happened was that Japan was closed to the outside world for around 250 years. Foreign entry or Japanese departure was punishable by death. The Meiji era – coinciding with the height of British colonial rule – opened Japan to foreigners and created a militarized nation. Japan adopted the Gregorian calendar, moving the biggest holiday of the year – the new year and all of its food traditions – in line with the West and out of sync with the rest of East Asia. At the time, meat-eating was restricted, not only because of Buddhism and Shintoism, but also because of the limitation of land. Wanting his people to, quite literally, beef up like the Europeans, Emperor Meiji publicly ate meat in 1872, officially lifting the ban on meat and changing the Japanese diet forever.

Beef and the curry that contained it was an expensive Western dish that only became more accessible after the introduction of instant curry in 1907. Over time and with industrialization, globalization, imports, and brutal colonization within and outside of Japan, meat intake skyrocketed. Hokkaido and its indigenous Ainu people were recolonized by Japan in the Meiji era as Japan perceived threats from neighbouring Russia. Not so coincidentally, the region is now Japan’s largest agriculture producer including meat, dairy, and wheat. By the devastating Tokyo Earthquake of 1923 kare raisu stalls had popped up all over the city offering a complete, inexpensive, hearty meal. Its popularity also grew along with the Japanese navy. The military lured poor men with the promise of eating unlimited white rice. Many chose only to eat this luxury food, leading to a devastating vitamin deficiency. Kare raisu made with thiamine-containing meat and flour was the navy’s solution.

Even today in Japan, South Asian curries are seen as having different origins than Japanese curry. The first Indian style Indo Karii was introduced to Japan by Indian Ghadar revolutionary-turned-chef Rash Behari Bose. With a bounty on his life for his assassination attempt of Lord Hardinge, he fled from India to Japan in 1915. It just so happened that the family who sheltered Bose was not only a Pan-Asian movement supporter, but also owned a restaurant in Tokyo. Bose married the restaurateur’s daughter, began working there, and continued his political work, evading the British as they pressured Japan for his extradition. Where Japanese curry is thickened with wheat to a gravy-like texture, Bose’s original Indo Karii was apparently closer to a korma, thickened with nuts, cream, or yogurt.

Source: How ‘Indian curry’ became Japan’s favourite dish

Direction: Read the given passage carefully and answer the questions that follow.

According to an unlikely origin story from one of Japan’s leading commercial curry manufacturers, a starving Japanese boy hid himself aboard a British ship. Curry was served once a week by the British navy – the day that this boy happened to stow away. He was so delighted that he rushed home to tell his village about this wonderful flavour, spreading the news of curry throughout the land. You’ll notice in this tale that curry has very little to do with India.

So, what really happened was that Japan was closed to the outside world for around 250 years. Foreign entry or Japanese departure was punishable by death. The Meiji era – coinciding with the height of British colonial rule – opened Japan to foreigners and created a militarized nation. Japan adopted the Gregorian calendar, moving the biggest holiday of the year – the new year and all of its food traditions – in line with the West and out of sync with the rest of East Asia. At the time, meat-eating was restricted, not only because of Buddhism and Shintoism, but also because of the limitation of land. Wanting his people to, quite literally, beef up like the Europeans, Emperor Meiji publicly ate meat in 1872, officially lifting the ban on meat and changing the Japanese diet forever.

Beef and the curry that contained it was an expensive Western dish that only became more accessible after the introduction of instant curry in 1907. Over time and with industrialization, globalization, imports, and brutal colonization within and outside of Japan, meat intake skyrocketed. Hokkaido and its indigenous Ainu people were recolonized by Japan in the Meiji era as Japan perceived threats from neighbouring Russia. Not so coincidentally, the region is now Japan’s largest agriculture producer including meat, dairy, and wheat. By the devastating Tokyo Earthquake of 1923 kare raisu stalls had popped up all over the city offering a complete, inexpensive, hearty meal. Its popularity also grew along with the Japanese navy. The military lured poor men with the promise of eating unlimited white rice. Many chose only to eat this luxury food, leading to a devastating vitamin deficiency. Kare raisu made with thiamine-containing meat and flour was the navy’s solution.

Even today in Japan, South Asian curries are seen as having different origins than Japanese curry. The first Indian style Indo Karii was introduced to Japan by Indian Ghadar revolutionary-turned-chef Rash Behari Bose. With a bounty on his life for his assassination attempt of Lord Hardinge, he fled from India to Japan in 1915. It just so happened that the family who sheltered Bose was not only a Pan-Asian movement supporter, but also owned a restaurant in Tokyo. Bose married the restaurateur’s daughter, began working there, and continued his political work, evading the British as they pressured Japan for his extradition. Where Japanese curry is thickened with wheat to a gravy-like texture, Bose’s original Indo Karii was apparently closer to a korma, thickened with nuts, cream, or yogurt.

Source: How ‘Indian curry’ became Japan’s favourite dish

Direction: Read the given passage carefully and answer the questions that follow.

According to an unlikely origin story from one of Japan’s leading commercial curry manufacturers, a starving Japanese boy hid himself aboard a British ship. Curry was served once a week by the British navy – the day that this boy happened to stow away. He was so delighted that he rushed home to tell his village about this wonderful flavour, spreading the news of curry throughout the land. You’ll notice in this tale that curry has very little to do with India.

So, what really happened was that Japan was closed to the outside world for around 250 years. Foreign entry or Japanese departure was punishable by death. The Meiji era – coinciding with the height of British colonial rule – opened Japan to foreigners and created a militarized nation. Japan adopted the Gregorian calendar, moving the biggest holiday of the year – the new year and all of its food traditions – in line with the West and out of sync with the rest of East Asia. At the time, meat-eating was restricted, not only because of Buddhism and Shintoism, but also because of the limitation of land. Wanting his people to, quite literally, beef up like the Europeans, Emperor Meiji publicly ate meat in 1872, officially lifting the ban on meat and changing the Japanese diet forever.

Beef and the curry that contained it was an expensive Western dish that only became more accessible after the introduction of instant curry in 1907. Over time and with industrialization, globalization, imports, and brutal colonization within and outside of Japan, meat intake skyrocketed. Hokkaido and its indigenous Ainu people were recolonized by Japan in the Meiji era as Japan perceived threats from neighbouring Russia. Not so coincidentally, the region is now Japan’s largest agriculture producer including meat, dairy, and wheat. By the devastating Tokyo Earthquake of 1923 kare raisu stalls had popped up all over the city offering a complete, inexpensive, hearty meal. Its popularity also grew along with the Japanese navy. The military lured poor men with the promise of eating unlimited white rice. Many chose only to eat this luxury food, leading to a devastating vitamin deficiency. Kare raisu made with thiamine-containing meat and flour was the navy’s solution.

Even today in Japan, South Asian curries are seen as having different origins than Japanese curry. The first Indian style Indo Karii was introduced to Japan by Indian Ghadar revolutionary-turned-chef Rash Behari Bose. With a bounty on his life for his assassination attempt of Lord Hardinge, he fled from India to Japan in 1915. It just so happened that the family who sheltered Bose was not only a Pan-Asian movement supporter, but also owned a restaurant in Tokyo. Bose married the restaurateur’s daughter, began working there, and continued his political work, evading the British as they pressured Japan for his extradition. Where Japanese curry is thickened with wheat to a gravy-like texture, Bose’s original Indo Karii was apparently closer to a korma, thickened with nuts, cream, or yogurt.

Source: How ‘Indian curry’ became Japan’s favourite dish

Direction: Read the given passage carefully and answer the questions that follow.

According to an unlikely origin story from one of Japan’s leading commercial curry manufacturers, a starving Japanese boy hid himself aboard a British ship. Curry was served once a week by the British navy – the day that this boy happened to stow away. He was so delighted that he rushed home to tell his village about this wonderful flavour, spreading the news of curry throughout the land. You’ll notice in this tale that curry has very little to do with India.

So, what really happened was that Japan was closed to the outside world for around 250 years. Foreign entry or Japanese departure was punishable by death. The Meiji era – coinciding with the height of British colonial rule – opened Japan to foreigners and created a militarized nation. Japan adopted the Gregorian calendar, moving the biggest holiday of the year – the new year and all of its food traditions – in line with the West and out of sync with the rest of East Asia. At the time, meat-eating was restricted, not only because of Buddhism and Shintoism, but also because of the limitation of land. Wanting his people to, quite literally, beef up like the Europeans, Emperor Meiji publicly ate meat in 1872, officially lifting the ban on meat and changing the Japanese diet forever.

Beef and the curry that contained it was an expensive Western dish that only became more accessible after the introduction of instant curry in 1907. Over time and with industrialization, globalization, imports, and brutal colonization within and outside of Japan, meat intake skyrocketed. Hokkaido and its indigenous Ainu people were recolonized by Japan in the Meiji era as Japan perceived threats from neighbouring Russia. Not so coincidentally, the region is now Japan’s largest agriculture producer including meat, dairy, and wheat. By the devastating Tokyo Earthquake of 1923 kare raisu stalls had popped up all over the city offering a complete, inexpensive, hearty meal. Its popularity also grew along with the Japanese navy. The military lured poor men with the promise of eating unlimited white rice. Many chose only to eat this luxury food, leading to a devastating vitamin deficiency. Kare raisu made with thiamine-containing meat and flour was the navy’s solution.

Even today in Japan, South Asian curries are seen as having different origins than Japanese curry. The first Indian style Indo Karii was introduced to Japan by Indian Ghadar revolutionary-turned-chef Rash Behari Bose. With a bounty on his life for his assassination attempt of Lord Hardinge, he fled from India to Japan in 1915. It just so happened that the family who sheltered Bose was not only a Pan-Asian movement supporter, but also owned a restaurant in Tokyo. Bose married the restaurateur’s daughter, began working there, and continued his political work, evading the British as they pressured Japan for his extradition. Where Japanese curry is thickened with wheat to a gravy-like texture, Bose’s original Indo Karii was apparently closer to a korma, thickened with nuts, cream, or yogurt.

Source: How ‘Indian curry’ became Japan’s favourite dish

Direction: Read the given passage carefully and answer the questions that follow.

According to an unlikely origin story from one of Japan’s leading commercial curry manufacturers, a starving Japanese boy hid himself aboard a British ship. Curry was served once a week by the British navy – the day that this boy happened to stow away. He was so delighted that he rushed home to tell his village about this wonderful flavour, spreading the news of curry throughout the land. You’ll notice in this tale that curry has very little to do with India.

So, what really happened was that Japan was closed to the outside world for around 250 years. Foreign entry or Japanese departure was punishable by death. The Meiji era – coinciding with the height of British colonial rule – opened Japan to foreigners and created a militarized nation. Japan adopted the Gregorian calendar, moving the biggest holiday of the year – the new year and all of its food traditions – in line with the West and out of sync with the rest of East Asia. At the time, meat-eating was restricted, not only because of Buddhism and Shintoism, but also because of the limitation of land. Wanting his people to, quite literally, beef up like the Europeans, Emperor Meiji publicly ate meat in 1872, officially lifting the ban on meat and changing the Japanese diet forever.

Beef and the curry that contained it was an expensive Western dish that only became more accessible after the introduction of instant curry in 1907. Over time and with industrialization, globalization, imports, and brutal colonization within and outside of Japan, meat intake skyrocketed. Hokkaido and its indigenous Ainu people were recolonized by Japan in the Meiji era as Japan perceived threats from neighbouring Russia. Not so coincidentally, the region is now Japan’s largest agriculture producer including meat, dairy, and wheat. By the devastating Tokyo Earthquake of 1923 kare raisu stalls had popped up all over the city offering a complete, inexpensive, hearty meal. Its popularity also grew along with the Japanese navy. The military lured poor men with the promise of eating unlimited white rice. Many chose only to eat this luxury food, leading to a devastating vitamin deficiency. Kare raisu made with thiamine-containing meat and flour was the navy’s solution.

Even today in Japan, South Asian curries are seen as having different origins than Japanese curry. The first Indian style Indo Karii was introduced to Japan by Indian Ghadar revolutionary-turned-chef Rash Behari Bose. With a bounty on his life for his assassination attempt of Lord Hardinge, he fled from India to Japan in 1915. It just so happened that the family who sheltered Bose was not only a Pan-Asian movement supporter, but also owned a restaurant in Tokyo. Bose married the restaurateur’s daughter, began working there, and continued his political work, evading the British as they pressured Japan for his extradition. Where Japanese curry is thickened with wheat to a gravy-like texture, Bose’s original Indo Karii was apparently closer to a korma, thickened with nuts, cream, or yogurt.

Source: How ‘Indian curry’ became Japan’s favourite dish

Direction: Read the given passage carefully and answer the questions that follow. Certain words are printed in bold to help you locate them while answering some of these.

Saddique used to work as a production manager in a football production factory in Sialkot, a town close to his village of Shahpur in the state of Punjab. Every day, he would get on his bike and travel for an hour and a half to cover the distance of 50 kilometres. He happily gave it up to focus on his new full-time job – creating what he calls “reality cooking shows”, giving out “centuries-old” family recipes.

When Saddique started in January 2017, money was not on his mind. He didn’t even know that he could earn from videos shot on cell phone.

“I want the world to know my family’s secret recipes,” he told Images on the phone from his village, where he lives with his family – a wife, three children, his parents and a younger brother (another works in South Korea).

His first video explained how to make mooli parathas. Since then, he has put up 350 videos that show how to cook not only regional culinary delights but even burgers and pizzas (he baked the buns and pizza base in an earthen tandoor built from scratch). His seekh kabab recipe has so far been the biggest hit with 3.4 million views.

Unpretentious, wearing a clean shalwar kameez with his signature yellow flip-flops (these were replaced by a blue pair after the yellow ones broke), he admits he does not possess a “hi-fi kitchen or fancy equipment”. His knife skills too are no match for professional chefs. In an early video, he is seen using a wooden takhti, or tablet, instead of a cutting board. But this is why many of his channel’s over 500,000 subscribers find him “distinctly disarming”.

The videos aren’t performances for the viewer. You can see chickens being slaughtered and Saddique’s unmindfully using his hands to mix everything. Unlike television chefs who talk incessantly, Saddique works quietly with organic produce from his kitchen garden, against the beautiful backdrop of his village. Viewers say they love his YouTube videos for the “simplicity” of the “content”.

What he cooks is heartily eaten by the family. Every two weeks though, he cooks in large quantities and treats the less-privileged children from his village. In one video, he baked a huge bun with several regular-sized ones and put together “zinger” burgers that were then distributed among the patiently waiting children.

Saddique has come a long way since the first video he uploaded. “In that, I did not speak at all, it was a very basic video,” he said. Gradually, he started mentioning the ingredients he used and today, he says, he confidently talks to the viewers, but only when necessary. A one-man production team, Saddique shoots and edits his videos, though his wife (who never comes on screen since she observes strict purdah) often helps him in filming.

He has become more tech-savvy over time and has invested in a better microphone. His new equipment includes a drone “for aerial photography” and an electric rice cooker that were sent by his brother from South Korea, he said excitedly.

At the end of each show, his father, who he calls the “life” of his shows and who is also his chief food taster, looks into the camera and exclaims, “Zindabad puttar, maza aa gya (Long live son, loved it)”. Saddique says his viewers love this tagline, but insists he has never ever told his father what to say.

source: A Pakistani villager’s cooking channel on YouTube has made him a food celebrity

Direction: Read the given passage carefully and answer the questions that follow. Certain words are printed in bold to help you locate them while answering some of these.

Saddique used to work as a production manager in a football production factory in Sialkot, a town close to his village of Shahpur in the state of Punjab. Every day, he would get on his bike and travel for an hour and a half to cover the distance of 50 kilometres. He happily gave it up to focus on his new full-time job – creating what he calls “reality cooking shows”, giving out “centuries-old” family recipes.

When Saddique started in January 2017, money was not on his mind. He didn’t even know that he could earn from videos shot on cell phone.

“I want the world to know my family’s secret recipes,” he told Images on the phone from his village, where he lives with his family – a wife, three children, his parents and a younger brother (another works in South Korea).

His first video explained how to make mooli parathas. Since then, he has put up 350 videos that show how to cook not only regional culinary delights but even burgers and pizzas (he baked the buns and pizza base in an earthen tandoor built from scratch). His seekh kabab recipe has so far been the biggest hit with 3.4 million views.

Unpretentious, wearing a clean shalwar kameez with his signature yellow flip-flops (these were replaced by a blue pair after the yellow ones broke), he admits he does not possess a “hi-fi kitchen or fancy equipment”. His knife skills too are no match for professional chefs. In an early video, he is seen using a wooden takhti, or tablet, instead of a cutting board. But this is why many of his channel’s over 500,000 subscribers find him “distinctly disarming”.

The videos aren’t performances for the viewer. You can see chickens being slaughtered and Saddique’s unmindfully using his hands to mix everything. Unlike television chefs who talk incessantly, Saddique works quietly with organic produce from his kitchen garden, against the beautiful backdrop of his village. Viewers say they love his YouTube videos for the “simplicity” of the “content”.

What he cooks is heartily eaten by the family. Every two weeks though, he cooks in large quantities and treats the less-privileged children from his village. In one video, he baked a huge bun with several regular-sized ones and put together “zinger” burgers that were then distributed among the patiently waiting children.

Saddique has come a long way since the first video he uploaded. “In that, I did not speak at all, it was a very basic video,” he said. Gradually, he started mentioning the ingredients he used and today, he says, he confidently talks to the viewers, but only when necessary. A one-man production team, Saddique shoots and edits his videos, though his wife (who never comes on screen since she observes strict purdah) often helps him in filming.

He has become more tech-savvy over time and has invested in a better microphone. His new equipment includes a drone “for aerial photography” and an electric rice cooker that were sent by his brother from South Korea, he said excitedly.

At the end of each show, his father, who he calls the “life” of his shows and who is also his chief food taster, looks into the camera and exclaims, “Zindabad puttar, maza aa gya (Long live son, loved it)”. Saddique says his viewers love this tagline, but insists he has never ever told his father what to say.

source: A Pakistani villager’s cooking channel on YouTube has made him a food celebrity

Direction: Read the given passage carefully and answer the questions that follow. Certain words are printed in bold to help you locate them while answering some of these.

Saddique used to work as a production manager in a football production factory in Sialkot, a town close to his village of Shahpur in the state of Punjab. Every day, he would get on his bike and travel for an hour and a half to cover the distance of 50 kilometres. He happily gave it up to focus on his new full-time job – creating what he calls “reality cooking shows”, giving out “centuries-old” family recipes.

When Saddique started in January 2017, money was not on his mind. He didn’t even know that he could earn from videos shot on cell phone.

“I want the world to know my family’s secret recipes,” he told Images on the phone from his village, where he lives with his family – a wife, three children, his parents and a younger brother (another works in South Korea).

His first video explained how to make mooli parathas. Since then, he has put up 350 videos that show how to cook not only regional culinary delights but even burgers and pizzas (he baked the buns and pizza base in an earthen tandoor built from scratch). His seekh kabab recipe has so far been the biggest hit with 3.4 million views.

Unpretentious, wearing a clean shalwar kameez with his signature yellow flip-flops (these were replaced by a blue pair after the yellow ones broke), he admits he does not possess a “hi-fi kitchen or fancy equipment”. His knife skills too are no match for professional chefs. In an early video, he is seen using a wooden takhti, or tablet, instead of a cutting board. But this is why many of his channel’s over 500,000 subscribers find him “distinctly disarming”.

The videos aren’t performances for the viewer. You can see chickens being slaughtered and Saddique’s unmindfully using his hands to mix everything. Unlike television chefs who talk incessantly, Saddique works quietly with organic produce from his kitchen garden, against the beautiful backdrop of his village. Viewers say they love his YouTube videos for the “simplicity” of the “content”.

What he cooks is heartily eaten by the family. Every two weeks though, he cooks in large quantities and treats the less-privileged children from his village. In one video, he baked a huge bun with several regular-sized ones and put together “zinger” burgers that were then distributed among the patiently waiting children.

Saddique has come a long way since the first video he uploaded. “In that, I did not speak at all, it was a very basic video,” he said. Gradually, he started mentioning the ingredients he used and today, he says, he confidently talks to the viewers, but only when necessary. A one-man production team, Saddique shoots and edits his videos, though his wife (who never comes on screen since she observes strict purdah) often helps him in filming.

He has become more tech-savvy over time and has invested in a better microphone. His new equipment includes a drone “for aerial photography” and an electric rice cooker that were sent by his brother from South Korea, he said excitedly.

At the end of each show, his father, who he calls the “life” of his shows and who is also his chief food taster, looks into the camera and exclaims, “Zindabad puttar, maza aa gya (Long live son, loved it)”. Saddique says his viewers love this tagline, but insists he has never ever told his father what to say.

source: A Pakistani villager’s cooking channel on YouTube has made him a food celebrity

Direction: Read the given passage carefully and answer the questions that follow. Certain words are printed in bold to help you locate them while answering some of these.

Saddique used to work as a production manager in a football production factory in Sialkot, a town close to his village of Shahpur in the state of Punjab. Every day, he would get on his bike and travel for an hour and a half to cover the distance of 50 kilometres. He happily gave it up to focus on his new full-time job – creating what he calls “reality cooking shows”, giving out “centuries-old” family recipes.

When Saddique started in January 2017, money was not on his mind. He didn’t even know that he could earn from videos shot on cell phone.

“I want the world to know my family’s secret recipes,” he told Images on the phone from his village, where he lives with his family – a wife, three children, his parents and a younger brother (another works in South Korea).

His first video explained how to make mooli parathas. Since then, he has put up 350 videos that show how to cook not only regional culinary delights but even burgers and pizzas (he baked the buns and pizza base in an earthen tandoor built from scratch). His seekh kabab recipe has so far been the biggest hit with 3.4 million views.

Unpretentious, wearing a clean shalwar kameez with his signature yellow flip-flops (these were replaced by a blue pair after the yellow ones broke), he admits he does not possess a “hi-fi kitchen or fancy equipment”. His knife skills too are no match for professional chefs. In an early video, he is seen using a wooden takhti, or tablet, instead of a cutting board. But this is why many of his channel’s over 500,000 subscribers find him “distinctly disarming”.

The videos aren’t performances for the viewer. You can see chickens being slaughtered and Saddique’s unmindfully using his hands to mix everything. Unlike television chefs who talk incessantly, Saddique works quietly with organic produce from his kitchen garden, against the beautiful backdrop of his village. Viewers say they love his YouTube videos for the “simplicity” of the “content”.

What he cooks is heartily eaten by the family. Every two weeks though, he cooks in large quantities and treats the less-privileged children from his village. In one video, he baked a huge bun with several regular-sized ones and put together “zinger” burgers that were then distributed among the patiently waiting children.

Saddique has come a long way since the first video he uploaded. “In that, I did not speak at all, it was a very basic video,” he said. Gradually, he started mentioning the ingredients he used and today, he says, he confidently talks to the viewers, but only when necessary. A one-man production team, Saddique shoots and edits his videos, though his wife (who never comes on screen since she observes strict purdah) often helps him in filming.

He has become more tech-savvy over time and has invested in a better microphone. His new equipment includes a drone “for aerial photography” and an electric rice cooker that were sent by his brother from South Korea, he said excitedly.

At the end of each show, his father, who he calls the “life” of his shows and who is also his chief food taster, looks into the camera and exclaims, “Zindabad puttar, maza aa gya (Long live son, loved it)”. Saddique says his viewers love this tagline, but insists he has never ever told his father what to say.

source: A Pakistani villager’s cooking channel on YouTube has made him a food celebrity

Direction: Read the given passage carefully and answer the questions that follow. Certain words are printed in bold to help you locate them while answering some of these.

Saddique used to work as a production manager in a football production factory in Sialkot, a town close to his village of Shahpur in the state of Punjab. Every day, he would get on his bike and travel for an hour and a half to cover the distance of 50 kilometres. He happily gave it up to focus on his new full-time job – creating what he calls “reality cooking shows”, giving out “centuries-old” family recipes.

When Saddique started in January 2017, money was not on his mind. He didn’t even know that he could earn from videos shot on cell phone.

“I want the world to know my family’s secret recipes,” he told Images on the phone from his village, where he lives with his family – a wife, three children, his parents and a younger brother (another works in South Korea).

His first video explained how to make mooli parathas. Since then, he has put up 350 videos that show how to cook not only regional culinary delights but even burgers and pizzas (he baked the buns and pizza base in an earthen tandoor built from scratch). His seekh kabab recipe has so far been the biggest hit with 3.4 million views.

Unpretentious, wearing a clean shalwar kameez with his signature yellow flip-flops (these were replaced by a blue pair after the yellow ones broke), he admits he does not possess a “hi-fi kitchen or fancy equipment”. His knife skills too are no match for professional chefs. In an early video, he is seen using a wooden takhti, or tablet, instead of a cutting board. But this is why many of his channel’s over 500,000 subscribers find him “distinctly disarming”.

The videos aren’t performances for the viewer. You can see chickens being slaughtered and Saddique’s unmindfully using his hands to mix everything. Unlike television chefs who talk incessantly, Saddique works quietly with organic produce from his kitchen garden, against the beautiful backdrop of his village. Viewers say they love his YouTube videos for the “simplicity” of the “content”.

What he cooks is heartily eaten by the family. Every two weeks though, he cooks in large quantities and treats the less-privileged children from his village. In one video, he baked a huge bun with several regular-sized ones and put together “zinger” burgers that were then distributed among the patiently waiting children.

Saddique has come a long way since the first video he uploaded. “In that, I did not speak at all, it was a very basic video,” he said. Gradually, he started mentioning the ingredients he used and today, he says, he confidently talks to the viewers, but only when necessary. A one-man production team, Saddique shoots and edits his videos, though his wife (who never comes on screen since she observes strict purdah) often helps him in filming.

He has become more tech-savvy over time and has invested in a better microphone. His new equipment includes a drone “for aerial photography” and an electric rice cooker that were sent by his brother from South Korea, he said excitedly.

At the end of each show, his father, who he calls the “life” of his shows and who is also his chief food taster, looks into the camera and exclaims, “Zindabad puttar, maza aa gya (Long live son, loved it)”. Saddique says his viewers love this tagline, but insists he has never ever told his father what to say.

source: A Pakistani villager’s cooking channel on YouTube has made him a food celebrity