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For Chef Harpal Singh Sokhi, food has always been more than just a taste - it is a memory and a mood. In an exclusive interview with the chef-restaurateur, television judge, and founder of Karigari reflects on Punjabi winter food, festive gatherings, and why the simplest dishes often have the strongest impressions.
As Lohri approaches, conversations around Punjabi food inevitably go back to the usual - makki ki roti, sarson da saag, ghee, gur. But according to Chef Harpal Singh Sokhi, this popular narrative often misses the more profound truth about the festival and its food. “Honestly, Lohri does not have a very strong culinary attachment of its own,” he says when asked about traditional Lohri dishes. “What we see today- Lohri specials, themed menus, that’s more of a new-age construct.”
Sokhi explains that, unlike the festivals such as Pongal in South India, where food practices are clearly defined, Lohri in Punjab has always been more about seasonality than any fixed recipes. “There was never a rule that if it’s Lohri, this particular dish must be made,” he says.
Food Rooted In Season, Not The Occasion
Instead of festival-specific dishes, Punjabi winter food was driven by agricultural cycles. “This period marks the transition of months,” Sokhi explains. “During this time, there was a specific khichdi made from whole urad dal.” He recalls this dish vividly from his childhood. He adds, “My mother used to cook it at night, but we were allowed to eat it the next day. It was made only once a year,” he says. “There’s no written documentation of it being a Lohri dish, but traditions do not always come from books.”
For Sokhi, this urad dal khichdi symbolises the essence of Punjabi food culture, which is seasonal, deeply traditional, and passed down through repetition rather than ritual. “I’ve been making it ever since,” he adds. He explains that ingredients such as makki, sarson, gur, til, ghee, and slow-cooked meats were never the culinary trends; they were useful options embedded in climate and lifestyle. “People used to work hard, mornings were foggy, and evenings were freezing. Food had to support that.” He believes that winter dishes also require patience. “You cannot rush sarson ka saag. You can’t cheat a slow-cooked curry. Winter food also teaches you to slow down.”
(Sarso ka Saag, Makke di roti)
Lohri: A Festival That Begins Around Fire, Not The Table
Lohri, Sokhi feels, is one of the few festivals where food does not dominate the table, but lets you enjoy the moment. “When asked about his go-to Lohri food,” he says, “people often forget that Lohri is celebrated around a bonfire and not at a dining table.” That’s why traditional Lohri foods are always easy to carry and share, such as revri, gajak, peanuts, popcorn, til-gud ladoos, etc. “These are foods that you can hold in your hand, offer to someone, and can also enjoy while having a conversation. Growing up, that was the Lohri that he knew and loved. “Every house sent something.
Nobody asked what brand or how fancy. Food was about being part of the gathering.” For him, the best Lohri dish is not something very expensive or elaborate. “It’s the one everyone keeps looking for - again and again,” he recalls.
Family Memories: “Someone Always Made The Best Gud”
When asked about personal winter memories, Sokhi smiles. “Every family had one expert,” he laughs. “Someone who made the best gud, the best pinni, or the crispest gajak.” He remembers kitchens during winter were filled with warmth, steam rising from large pots, ghee melting slowly and elders supervising every step. “You learned by watching. Nobody wrote recipes.”
Those memories have woven themselves into many aspects of his art, but it’s most evident at his restaurant Karigari, where the focus is on craftsmanship, food that looks simple but has technique. When asked how this philosophy connects to Punjabi winter dishes, he explains, “True karigari is when effort is invisible."
He points to classic winter dishes as examples. “A good winter curry or a slow-cooked meat dish may look plain, but temperature control, timing, and balance make all the difference.” As per him, modern plating often distracts from the skill. “If you can cook a perfect winter dish without decoration, that is what mastery is all about”
At Karigari, Sokhi tries to honour this logic. “We don’t claim these dishes are Lohri-specific,” he clarifies. “Instead, we say they are Punjabi winter–specific.” He admits that restaurants make them look gourmet. “But if you look at Punjabi homes,” he says, “you will still find urad dal khichdi, gur-based dishes, and seasonal vegetables. That’s the real Punjabi food.” He also shares that all the dishes on the menu are curated and designed by him, and all of them are very close to his heart.
(Anjeer Akhrot Halwa)
The Role Of Winter Vegetables
Vegetables during winter play an equally important role at this time of year. “By the end of January, the season starts turning bitter,” Sokhi explains. “That’s why this period is the last good window for saag.” Similarly, vegetables like shalgam (turnips) are at their best only during these cold months. “Shalgam is soft till January or early February. After that, it loses its charm,” he says.
At Karigari, Sokhi clarifies, these ingredients are represented thoughtfully. “We do not invent traditions, we revive relevance,” he explains. “We take what was eaten at home and present it with care and a bit of gourmet touch.”
His Lohri Advice: Keep It Simple
Sokhi’s popularity as a judge on the television reality show Laughter Chefs has made him a household name beyond professional kitchens. When asked how judging compares to cooking, he responds thoughtfully, “Cooking uses your hands. Judging uses your heart and words.” He admits that the role is emotionally demanding. “You see effort, pressure, and nervousness. The mistakes contestants make often remind you of your own early days.”
For Sokhi, that emotional connection feels familiar- much like the Lohri gatherings of his childhood, where food, laughter, and shared vulnerability brought everyone together. “Whether it’s a festival at home or a contestant standing in front of you, people just want reassurance,” he reflects. “They want to feel seen.”
When asked which he enjoys more- judging or cooking, his answer is immediate. “Give me a quiet kitchen, family around, no cameras. That’s where I’m happiest.”
The overwhelming love from audiences, he adds, has been humbling. “People don’t connect only with food knowledge anymore. They connect with warmth and honesty.” Much like Lohri itself, he believes food and television work best when it invites people in rather than intimidating them.
As the conversation draws to a close, Sokhi offers simple advice for Lohri celebrations. “Don’t overthink the menu,” he says. “Cook food that brings people closer, basically, keep it simple.” In the end, Chef Harpal Singh Sokhi reminds us that Punjabi winter food isn’t about perfection; it’s about warmth, sharing, and memory, flavours that linger long after the season fades.
