In a television landscape saturated with South Asian tropes — think: dutiful doctor, tech nerd, spiritual guru, bearded terrorist — Hulu’s Deli Boys arrives like a shot of spice-infused adrenaline. The Philadelphia-set series plunges viewers into the chaotic world of two pampered Pakistani American brothers who inherit their late father’s, shall we say, multifaceted business: a corner deli empire that is also a helpful front for a far-reaching criminal enterprise.
Created by Abdullah Saeed, a former Vice Media producer and host of the James Beard Award-nominated series Bong Appétit, the show filters dark humor through a culturally specific lens — from Urdu dialogue speckled with profanity to drug deals conducted in traditional Pakistani shalwar kameez (long tunic and loose trousers). Poorna Jagannathan (Never Have I Ever), plays Aunt Lucky, the family’s enigmatic, shrewd, and slightly unsettling matriarch. Comedian Asif Ali (The Mandalorian) and writer-actor Saagar Shaikh (Ms. Marvel), star as the feckless brothers — the younger, straight-edged, Mir and pothead party-boy Raj, respectively. Their dynamic pendulates between hilarious bickering and genuine, if begrudging, loyalty as they stumble through a series of wild misadventures: chasing a half-dead naked man around their neighborhood, befriending a Drakkar Noir-drenched corpse disposal specialist (known as “murderwala”), selling cocaine bricks hidden in achaar (pickle) jars, and tracking down their father’s killer — all while trying to thwart the FBI, gangsters, and so-called Paki Blinders.
Produced by Onyx Collective, a division of Disney Entertainment that focuses on programming by creators of color and other underrepresented groups, it’s a series that feels utterly fresh, even groundbreaking, in its simplicity. Deli Boys shows brown people as just that — brown people; nothing more, nothing less. “The fact that our story is so ordinary, and allowed to breathe without a goddamn lesson in racial identity, is what makes it extraordinary,” Jagannathan says.
The show has won fans of all stripes, but its impact within the South Asian community is undeniable. To celebrate the series premiere, The Third Place, a South Asian-led creative powerhouse, turned the Kolkata Chai cafe in New York City into an immersive experience, drawing a massive crowd. The event’s wild success — as well as the show’s — demonstrates how much Deli Boys is appreciated by a community hungry for authentic representation.
With the buzz around Deli Boys continuing to build, we sat down with the leads Jagannathan, Ali, and Shaikh to unpack the show’s raucous escapade, its cultural nuances, and the unexpected heart beneath the hijinks.
Asif, what’s a cultural misconception about the South Asian community that Deli Boys challenges?
Asif Ali: That we’re all sort of obedient, nice people. There is this perception, certainly through the media, where the only options are for us to play terrorists or a guy that’s very meek in the background who says two lines and can’t wait to be your servant. Because we have 10 episodes of our show, and you get to focus on these people in the forefront, you get to see them being pieces of shit and human beings. That alone is a step forward.
Poorna, how did you consciously work to avoid perpetuating stereotypical narratives and instead offer a more nuanced portrayal of Aunt Lucky?
Poorna Jagannathan: Oh, I don’t think I purposely avoided anything. It’s in the writing. Abdullah Saeed didn’t want to write a didactic story about identity… He just wrote it for jokes. This is his sense of humor. He laughs his own ass off when he reads his own stuff in the hope that someone else finds it funny. Indeed, the three of us find it hilarious.
In order to make this work I had to lean into stereotypes. In the first scene, when the gunshot goes off, it’s not written that I infantilize [Saagar and Asif’s characters] and wipe the blood off their faces. But if you go deeper into the stereotype, then the humor actually lifts. For me, the funny is going way deep — I’m a South Asian mother and I infantilize the shit out of my kid.
I personally really related to that scene and it made me laugh.
PJ: Yeah, it’s something as silly as when [my character] turns around and slaps both of them … That’s such a South Asian thing. I don’t know how you grew up, but I grew up with efficiency being at the forefront in my school and family.
AA: Abdullah originally wrote this show because he was trying to get staffed in a [writers] room. They often tell you, when you’re trying to get staffed in a room, to write the craziest shit you can think of that would never be made. And so what’s cool about the show is that it’s one of the few shows I’ve ever read about South Asian people that wasn’t thought of in a situation where it was like, “OK, we need to make a show about x, y, or z group and work backwards from there.” It was very much like, “Hey, this guy [Saeed] loves Sopranos and he loves all these crazy crime and mob shows. What if we made a show like this?”
These people happen to be South Asian, and then you get all of these interesting nuances, rather than having a focus meeting where the executive said, “We have to place this demographic so we need to make this type of show.” This script felt like it was genuinely just an insane idea this guy came up with.
Saagar Shaikh: Every South Asian person’s story is different — we have completely different experiences. Even between the four of us, I’m Pakistani Muslim, Asif is Indian Muslim, Poorna [whose father was an Indian diplomat] is from the whole world. We have so many different experiences that each of us as individuals got to bring to the show just by being who we are.
One thing I added to Deli Boys was in Episode Four when we were cutting cocaine in our underwear. The scene was written with us standing up at a table but I was like, “I would do this in the FOB squat on the floor.” It was really cool that we had that shorthand.
AA: There was this open dialogue.
PJ: Back to Asif’s first point, when you are trying to write something and sell a script, you don’t write… you start thinking about how it would work. Abdullah will tell you that everyone passed — all of the networks and all the streamers, including Hulu, passed. The very last stop was Onyx Collective, and he just knew they would pass, so at the pitch meeting he was having so much fun, and I think he went in without any expectations. He stopped caring — this script has the energy of someone who doesn’t give a flying fuck. That’s the beauty of it.
I can’t speak for Abdullah, but I think this script is from the mind of Abdullah Saeed who would get high and eat cannabis-infused food. It’s so difficult to pin Deli Boys into a particular genre because it’s so fluid — it’s his mind without constraints or an agenda.
By the way, I was really jealous of your Asian squats, because I can’t do that.
SS: You gotta visit the motherland, dude.
AA: You’ve been in New York too long.
PJ: Wait, did you not have to shit in an Indian toilet ever?!
SS: [Laughs.] Let’s talk about this for 10 more minutes.
AA: This will be the headline: Shitting in Toilets in the Motherland and Other Things.
Besides poop jokes, what’s one thing you learned about each other while making Deli Boys that surprised you?
AA: I don’t think I’ve ever been on a project where — I mean this in a nice way — everyone was equally desperate to make this thing work. There was no sense of “Let’s see what happens.” Or a “I’ll show up and do what’s needed. I won’t do anything more. Goodbye. Nice meeting you guys. We’ll never text again” type of vibe. It didn’t feel like that.
You can’t expect everyone to have the same level of desperation. But it felt like everyone understood how rare this kind of show is to get made. It really did feel like everyone was going for it. To sustain that energy all the way through three months of 14-hour days and have it go to the finish line with the same kind of energy… People left more secure jobs to come work on our show because they felt the same energy.
PJ: I imagine Saturday Night Live was our set. We were unhinged. I was super surprised someone didn’t walk into the room and say, “Playtime is fucking over. Buckle up.”
SS: We’re put in the background of the industry so often and we don’t get to work as much as our—
PJ: White counterparts.
SS: Yeah, because of that we’re seen as lacking experience. There’s a little less trust from the producers. Without that trust, we can’t show off what we are capable of doing.
What was your initial reaction when you learned that Queer Eye’s Tan France would be joining the cast as a British Pakistani South London gang leader?
AA: I was so excited. What a joy to have somebody like him. I was interested to see someone who was known to make people sob and feel good and bring families together play such a piece of shit.
PJ: And, also, just to let you know, we’re the ones that thought of Tan France.
SS: We had a secret meeting, the three of us, in the hotel conference room. We made a wishlist of our ideal cast list for guest stars and co-stars in this show. Tan France was at the top of the list.
PJ: I texted him and was like, “Would you be up for it?” I thought he’d have a small part, but they made him audition four times and they gave him a big-ass part. He was so nervous, but he’ll tell you it was his most favorite thing in his whole career.
AA: He did such a great job. And he’s the nicest man in America.
PJ: And he validated us. It’s a big deal to have Tan France as part of our cast.
Poorna, if you weren’t an actor, what profession do you think you’d thrive in, and what’s one skill you have that would be surprisingly useful in that field?
PJ: Oh, I’ve thought about this! I would be a spy. I’ve always wanted to be a spy.
SS: I can totally see that.
AA: You’d be so good. You know five languages—
PJ: I know seven different languages.
AA: And you have a very put-together vibe about you. People want to believe you. You have the vibe of someone who gets what they want.
PJ: Love. I grew up on James Bond movies. They were the only movies we were allowed to watch.
Can you share a moment on the Deli Boys set where improvisation or a spontaneous reaction created a particularly funny or memorable scene?
AA: There’s a moment where Poorna throws the knife at Tan, and the first time we did it, I turned around and went, “DAMNNNN!” Because it’s an homage to Friday with Chris Tucker and Ice Cube — a classic comedy movie. And we all laughed.
A lot of the time I would do things and wouldn’t know if it would fit in the show. “What if Saagar and I both did it at the same time, just like in the movie? Can we keep that in?” When we got to this episode, I was so happy that it stayed in.
SS: Me too!
AA: If you understand the reference it becomes twice as funny.
SS: People aren’t talking about that moment.
PJ: Isha, can you bump up that moment?
Yeah, maybe this article is what spreads the word.
SS: There are a lot of little Easter eggs in the show. Maybe it’s a slow release, people will watch it again and notice. Another thing that people aren’t talking about… Cailey Breneman, our costume designer, and I worked so hard on the Super Bowl shirt. I know the Philadelphia Eagles’ colors are green and white, which are the same colors of the Pakistan flag. It says “Ameristan” on the back, but no one’s talking about it.
Deli Boys is awash with clever references like that, especially to The Godfather. If Deli Boys had a famous quote like “Leave the gun, take the cannoli” from The Godfather, what would it be?
SS: I think it’s a quote that Mir says: “Don’t ask me about my business.”
AA: That is from The Godfather though.
PJ: Also, Abdullah’s father-in-law is Albert S. Ruddy, the producer of The Godfather. So The Godfather is deeply embedded in Abdullah’s veins.
If you could introduce someone to one aspect of South Asian culture through a single experience, what would it be, and why?
AA: It would be food. You can explain and understand so much from food. My family is from Hyderabad in India and Saagar’s family is from Hyderabad in Pakistan. Biryani would be my number one because it’s so layered. I don’t want anyone under 65 touching it — I need the wisdom of three generations in this biryani.
PJ: My food will always be gol gappe [a popular street food in India consisting of small, crispy, hollow, fried spheres filled with potatoes and spicy, tangy water].
AA: Which I can never eat in India because of the water.
PJ: I mean, the diarrhea is also part of the experience. The intense pleasure and regret is part of the meal. It’s like Deli Boys: pleasure and pain.
What do you hope Deli Boys contributes to the ongoing conversation about representation, diversity, and the American experience?
AA: What this show is doing is what I’ve always wanted as a comedy fan when I was growing up: just placing people of different ethnicities and cultures in shows that are comedies for comedy’s sake. Not heavily reliant on an explanation or plea for humanity from the audience. Any sort of step in that direction is great for any community — it normalizes and humanizes them.
SS: We’ve never been afforded the opportunity of being human beings with flaws and conflicted thoughts. We’re written to be pigeonholed into very specific things. We’re just normal people that happen to be brown.
PJ: We’ve never seen brown people be completely unserious. It doesn’t exist. There’s always a fucking message or teaching to be learned.
AA: Ugh, “Let me make you feel good about…” It’s kind of how my Black friends feel whenever there’s another slave movie: “Who the fuck is this for? Why is it that every time we’re nominated for an award at the Oscars it’s because one of us gets whipped and that’s the only way anyone feels like we deserve something.”
OK, last question: If your Deli Boys character had a dating app profile, what would their bio say?
AA: Mir’s would be: “Not here for hookups, here for a long-term relationship only. If you’re not interested in starting a life together, don’t waste my time. And I’m looking for someone with at least a graduate degree.”
SS: Raj’s would say: “Now looking for new applicants for orgy cabal, anyone can apply. 420 friendly.”
PJ: What does a bio need to do?
AA: Just a little bit of info about who you want. I feel like your character would not have any pictures on her profile because she’s such a high-profile woman. “Seeking discreet meet-up, message for info.”
PJ: Love the vibe, thank you.
