Lachha Paratha: Listen, I used to think lachha paratha was one of those things best left to dhabas. You order it on the highway, tear into those steamy layers with your hands, and life feels right. Trying to make it at home? Disaster. Mine were either doughy bricks or sad, flat discs with maybe one sad layer if I was lucky.
But after way too many Sunday mornings of trial and error (and a couple of smoke alarms), I’ve got a version that actually works in a regular kitchen. No maida if you don’t want it, no stand mixer, just atta, ghee, and some patience. This is the one I make now whenever we want something special with rajma or kosha mangsho (because in Malda we love our mutton, right?).
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Here’s how I do it.
Why Lachha Paratha Hits Different
It’s not just another paratha. The whole point is those visible rings and layers—lachha literally means “coils” or “rings” in Punjabi. When it puffs up on the tawa, the outside gets crisp and golden while the inside stays soft and pulls apart in flaky sheets. Perfect for soaking up thick gravies or even just eating plain with dahi and mango pickle when you’re too tired to cook anything else.
Growing up, we mostly had it at weddings or when someone suggested “let’s go for paratha on the GT Road.” Now I make it at home and it feels like a small win every time.
Stuff You Need (Nothing Fancy)
For 5–6 good-sized parathas:
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Dough:
- 2 cups whole wheat atta (fresh chakki atta is best; the packaged stuff works too but feels heavier)
- ¾ tsp salt (or to taste—taste the dough!)
- Water – about ¾ to 1 cup (warmish helps)
- 1 tbsp ghee or oil (makes kneading easier)
For layers & cooking:
- 4–6 tbsp desi ghee (or butter if that’s what you have—ghee wins for smell though)
- Extra atta for dusting
That’s it. If you want vegan, just use any neutral oil, but it won’t taste the same.
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Step-by-Step – How I Actually Do It
Dough First (Don’t Skip Resting)
Mix atta + salt in a big thali or bowl. Drizzle the ghee/oil and rub it in. Slowly add water while mixing with your fingers. Once it forms a shaggy mess, start kneading properly.
Knead 8–10 minutes till it’s soft and smooth. It should feel softer and more elastic than regular roti dough. Press your finger in—if the dent slowly bounces back, you’re golden. Too hard? Splash more water. Too sticky? Tiny bit more atta.
Cover with a damp cloth or upside-down bowl. Let it rest minimum 20–30 min (I often do 1 hour while I chop veggies). This step is non-negotiable—skipping it is why most home parathas turn tough.
Making the Layers
Divide into 5–6 equal balls. Roll each lightly so they’re smooth.
Take one, dust the board, roll into a thin circle (7–8 inches). Doesn’t have to be perfect round—mine are always wonky.
Spread 1–1½ tsp softened ghee all over. I sometimes sprinkle a whisper of dry atta on top so the layers separate better (old family trick).
Roll it up tightly from one side into a long rope/log. Then coil that rope into a tight spiral (like you’re making jalebi). Tuck the end under.
Pat it flat gently, dust again, and roll out carefully to 8–9 inches. Go slow—don’t squash the layers. If it springs back, let it relax 30 seconds and try again.
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Cooking Time
Get your tawa really hot on medium-high. Test by sprinkling water—it should dance and evaporate quick.
Put the paratha on. Wait 20–30 seconds till bubbles appear. Flip.
Spread 1 tsp ghee on top. Flip again after 40–60 seconds. Ghee on this side too.
Now flip every 20–30 seconds, pressing gently with a spatula or crumpled cloth to help crisp the edges. You want nice golden-brown spots and the layers starting to lift. Takes 3–4 min total.
When done, take it off and immediately “clap” it between your palms or smack it lightly on the counter. This separates the layers like magic. Brush extra ghee if you’re feeling extra.
Stack them wrapped in a towel so they stay hot and soft.
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Things I Messed Up So You Don’t Have To
- Dough too stiff → paratha like cardboard. Always err on softer side.
- Rolled too thin first time → layers disappear. Aim for thin but not see-through.
- Used cold ghee → tears everywhere. Soften it first.
- Cooked on low flame → chewy instead of crisp. Medium-high is key.
- Pressed too hard while rolling second time → squashed layers. Be gentle.
- No resting → tough and shrinks back.
Common mistake I see everywhere: people roll the coil too loose → fewer visible rings. Keep it tight.
Little Twists We Like
- Garlic one: mash 2–3 garlic cloves into the ghee. Killer with dal.
- Onion-chilli: sprinkle chopped onion + green chilli + bit of chaat masala before rolling.
- Aloo stuffed: my wife adds spiced potato mash sometimes.
- Sweet version: my nephew demands one with jaggery inside.
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What We Eat It With
Butter chicken or paneer makhani on fancy days. Simple dal tadka or rajma most nights. In our house, often with mutton kosha or egg bhurji. Leftovers? Breakfast next day with chai and achar.
Quick Nutrition Reality Check
One paratha ≈ 250–320 cal depending on ghee. Whole wheat = fiber + some protein. Ghee = flavor + good fats (don’t drown it though). It’s richer than plain roti—so treat it like a weekend thing.
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Read More Recipes: Paneer Paratha – My Everyday Punjabi-Style Fix That Actually Tastes Like Home
Quick FAQ From Friends & Family
Why no layers? Not enough ghee, rolled too hard, or dough too dry.
Oil instead of ghee? Works, but flavor drops a lot.
Same as Malabar parotta? Close, but Malabar uses maida (all-purpose flour), sometimes egg/milk, and is stretchier/crispier. Lachha is heartier with atta and more “Punjabi dhaba” feel.
Store leftovers? Fridge 2 days max. Reheat on tawa with splash of water.
Wrap-Up
Making lachha paratha is one of those skills that feels intimidating till suddenly it isn’t. The first few might look ugly—eat them anyway, they’ll still taste great. Then one day you pull one off the tawa, tear it, see the steam and layers, and you’re hooked.
Give it a go this weekend. Burn one or two, laugh, try again. You’ll get there.
If you make it, tell me how it went—I’m genuinely curious!
