There’s something about rain that awakens nostalgia.
The grey clouds slowly crept over the Frankfurt skyline. Outside my window, raindrops tapped gently on the glass like an old lullaby. The streets, usually so sharp and efficient, were now blurred by a soft mist that rose with every passing car. It was one of those slow, quiet evenings in Germany where the weather seems to speak in whispers. And in that stillness, my mind wandered—not to a nearby café or a cozy German bakery, but 6,000 kilometers away, straight to Lahore.
I didn’t miss the chaos of the traffic, nor the hustle of the streets. What I longed for was simpler: the warm, familiar comfort of home, the smell of wet earth during monsoon season, and most of all—the unmistakable aroma of desi food.
In Lahore, rain wasn’t complete without deep-fried indulgence. Whether it was crispy pakoras, spicy samosas, or a steaming cup of chai, the rain brought people together around food. It was a ritual. The first sound of thunder was often followed by a trip to the nearest vendor or a call to the kitchen. There was something magical in those moments—the joy of sharing hot snacks while wrapped in shawls, with laughter echoing over the sound of rain.
And here I was, in Frankfurt, wrapped in a blanket but feeling worlds away from that comfort.
So, I decided to change that. Instead of cooking myself, I turned to a familiar place that always brings a little piece of Lahore to Germany: Lahore Kebab Haus.
Nestled in the heart of Frankfurt, Lahore Kebab Haus isn’t just another desi restaurant—it’s a memory capsule. The moment I stepped inside, I was greeted by the spicy, smoky aroma that instantly reminded me of Liberty Market and Gawalmandi. The staff greeted me with a warmth that felt like home. I ordered the essentials: pakoras with mint chutney and a strong cup of chai.
As I sat near the window, watching the rain continue to fall, I took my first bite—and suddenly, I wasn’t in Frankfurt anymore. I was back in Lahore, sharing snacks with cousins, listening to old songs on the radio, and watching puddles form in the courtyard.
That’s the magic of food. It doesn’t just fill your stomach—it carries your soul back to the places you miss most.
Rainy days in Frankfurt may not have the same energy as Lahore, but with the right flavors and memories, I found a way to bridge that emotional gap. For anyone living far from home, moments like these—where taste becomes time travel—are priceless.
So next time the clouds roll in, I know exactly what I’ll do: head back to Lahore Kebab Haus., order my rainy day favorites, and let a little bit of Lahore warm up even the coldest German evening.