The Bite: Behind the Scenes with Afghan Comfort Food in Downtown Albuquerque

Welcome to the only source for artful, bite-sized stories and diverse perspectives on New Mexico’s food and drink scene. This week, writer Sophie Putka takes us behind the scenes of a classic Afghan comfort food at one of Albuquerque’s newest culinary gems.

If you’re a curious eater, you might notice that certain dishes seem to appear in every corner of the world. Every nation has its own version of a stew, a dumpling, or a meatball. And from naan to pita, injera to arepas, flatbread is another universal staple—a reminder that humans share far more similarities than differences.

At Afghan Kebab House, a vibrant new addition to downtown Albuquerque, one dish embodies this culinary connection perfectly: the bolani. This savory flatbread, stuffed with leek or potato filling and fried to a crisp golden chew, is served with a zesty chutney for dipping. The bolani is more than comfort food—it’s a window into the diversity of Afghan cuisine itself, which reaches far beyond its name’s focus on kebabs.

A Cuisine of Many Influences

Afghan cooking carries the rich imprint of neighboring cultures: coriander and mint from Persia, saffron and garam masala from India, and delicate dumpling traditions from Central Asia. Yet the true centerpiece of any Afghan meal is rice—specifically, long-grain rice from Afghanistan that cooks into beautifully firm curls, dotted with raisins and carrots in the traditional style.

Bolani, unlike rice, isn’t an everyday dish. It’s a celebratory food, often served at parties or special gatherings, though it’s also found at street stands and restaurants across Kabul and Kandahar. Much like tamales or filled pastries, bolani is best made in batches—designed to feed many at once.

The Story of a Family and a Dream

On a clear, crisp desert morning, I park on Second Street and step inside Afghan Kebab House. I’m here to meet owner Ilhamuddin Hussaini, known simply as Ilham, and watch this comforting dish come to life.

Ilham’s story is one of resilience and gratitude. After his brother—an interpreter for the U.S. Marine Corps—resettled in the United States, Ilham followed with his family in 2016. They had run a jewelry business in Afghanistan, serving many American military clients. When they arrived in New Mexico, the dry, mountainous landscape felt instantly familiar.

“Did the flight just land back in Kabul?” Ilham remembers joking as they touched down.

“Albuquerque gave me everything,” he says. “If I was still in Afghanistan, I don’t even know if I would have been alive right now.”

After working a variety of jobs, including at the University of New Mexico’s psychiatric center, Ilham earned a degree in business and decided it was time to start something of his own. “Not a lot of people know about Afghan culture and food,” he says. “I wanted to share it, to bring it out here.”

In April, that dream became reality when Afghan Kebab House opened its doors. Since then, Ilham and his family have been introducing Albuquerque diners to authentic Afghan flavors—often for the very first time.

The Heart of the Kitchen

At a large table in the kitchen sits the soul of the operation: Ilham’s mother, Zohra Hussaini. She works with quiet precision, rolling out balls of dough that have been resting under a bright cloth. The dough, made of just flour, water, salt, and yeast, becomes a thin circle under her hands. She spreads a leek filling over one half, folds it closed, seals the edge, and dusts it lightly with flour.

Her leeks aren’t the thick supermarket kind—they’re Chinese chives, a close cousin of the Afghan leek known as gandana in Dari. Mixed with red onion and a blend of herbs and spices, they form the signature filling for leek bolani. Another version swaps the leeks for mashed potato and cilantro. Afghan spice blends often include cumin, coriander, turmeric, and cardamom, though the Hussaini family keeps their exact recipes secret.

Zohra learned to cook from her mother at a young age, as did all the girls in her family. Of her nine children, many have inherited her gift for cooking—one son, she laughs, “is even better than me!”

The Making of Bolani

Zohra gently places each half-moon of filled dough onto a sizzling pan with a thin layer of oil. The kitchen fills with the sound of frying as the flatbreads brown. She checks the color, flips them, and soon the bolani turns perfectly golden and crisp.

Ilham serves one hot from the pan with a dish of chutney. “This is a finger food,” he explains, encouraging a tear and dip. The crispy, chewy bolani reveals its fragrant filling, the chutney cutting through the richness with bright tang. A mug of steaming saffron tea follows—deeply aromatic and golden, made simply with saffron, cardamom, and water.

Halfway through, I can’t resist ordering another bolani to go—plus several pieces of what might be the best baklava I’ve ever tasted: layers of flaky phyllo wrapped around pistachios so fresh they taste like spring.

218 Gold SW, Albuquerque • 505-610-5842