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Yearly Archives: 2011

Eight Great Food Experiences in India

Butter chicken from Moti Mahal, Delhi

The revered Moti Mahal in the Old Delhi neighbourhood of Daryaganj is legendary as the birthplace of India’s most famous export, butter chicken. In fact, the dish was first invented in Moti Mahal’s original location in Peshawar in the Punjab region of modern day Pakistan. After the partition of British India, Moti Mahal’s owner shifted digs to Delhi, where his Punjabi style chicken dish took off. Moti Mahal’s butter chicken is a tantalisingly rich affair, with a rib-sticking cream, butter and tomato gravy. What makes it a truly great dish is the Punjabi technique of roasting the marinated chicken in the tandoor prior to adding it to the curry. At Moti Mahal, you order by the half or whole chicken, and it’s served on the bone – succulent, smoky and overwhelmingly good.

Kati roll, Kolkata

Ordering this iconic Kolkatan street food involves some particularly difficult decision making. Will it be a “single chicken, single egg”, a “double chicken, no egg” or the truly heart-stopping “double mutton, double egg”? The kati roll consists of marinated meat, cooked on iron skewers over hot coals, then wrapped in flaky, fried paratha flatbread with onions, egg and fresh herbs. The kati roll is now popular all over India, but it’s only in Kolkata that you’ll find a dedicated “roll shop” on almost every street corner.

Dosa, South India

South Indian food bears little resemblance to the thick, heavy curries of the north but the dosa is proof that it’s just as good. This spectacular culinary creation consists of a rolled up, papery thin lentil crepe, crisp and wafer-like and filled with a spicy mixture of vegetables, eggs, cheese or meat. It’s served with a variety of chutneys, is very popular for breakfast and is one of the most astoundingly cheap and tasty meals you’re likely to have anywhere in India.

Dosa with chutneys

Parsi food from Britannia & Co, Mumbai

Parsis are members of the Zoroastrian religion, originally migrants from 16th century Iran. Their cuisine is a mixture of north Indian vegetarian fare and meatier Persian recipes. In the well-touristed Colaba district of Mumbai, Britannia & Co café’s menu includes saffron rice pilaf with chicken, cashews and tangy dried barberries, and steamed fish from the Arabian Sea cooked with coconut chutney and banana leaf. Worldwide, the Zoroastrian religion is rapidly dying out, but the enormous popularity of Parsi restaurants like Britannia suggests that the cuisine may outlive the community itself.

High tea, Darjeeling

Sitting amid the clouds at 2,100m altitude, the British discovered Darjeeling possessed the perfect climate for growing tea, and quickly set about covering its hilly slopes with vast and verdant tea plantations. Today you can still get a taste of the privileged life of the colonialists, at gracious old hotels with names like The Windamere and The Elgin. Cosy up in front of a roaring fire, nibble on cakes, cucumber sandwiches and scones and sip on some of the finest teas the world has to offer. Simply mah’vellous, old chap.

Windamere High Tea

Scones with jam and cream at the Windamere Hotel

Goan food, Goa

Goa’s a popular state for travellers to wind down in before the long trip home, and it’s not just because of the beaches. For deprived carnivores who’ve had a tough time tracking down meaty meals elsewhere in India, Goa is paradise. Its large population of Catholics are super keen on beef and pork, and its coastal location means there’s seafood galore. There’s a strong Portuguese influence in the spicy chouriço sausages, fiery, vinegar-tinged vindaloo curry, and bebinca (caramel layer cake).

Vindaloo and assorted Goan goodies

Thali, everywhere

If you want to truly immerse yourself in Indian food culture, you must learn to eat thali with your hands. Thali restaurants are, generally speaking, rock-bottom roadside joints where you get unlimited helpings of rice, pappadums, chutney and an assortment of curries, all designed to be swirled around the plate and mashed together with your fingers before popping the mushy mess into your mouth. If it looks like you’re running low on anything, a waiter will swiftly plop some more on your plate, whether you have any intention of eating it or not. This is the quickest way in India to make yourself full to bursting point for almost no money.

An unusually classy looking banana leaf thali

 

Makhani lassi, Jodhpur

Lassi, a yoghurt-based drink with stomach-strengthening properties (drinking at least one a day is said to help fend off Delhi belly) is sold by street vendors all over India,  but the Rajasthani city of Jodhpur is home to the king of lassis, makhani. This ultra-thick and luxurious lassi is exotically flavoured with rose, cardamom, dried fruits and nuts and the secret ingredient – a generous sprinkling of the world’s most expensive spice, saffron.

Food Challenge: Fermented Fish Innards Soup, Thanon Khao San, Haymarket

It’d been awhile since I’d had a meal that really challenged my senses. If you count last month’s chilli hot wing eating contest at the Northbridge Hotel as a ‘meal’, then it had been about a month. Ben and I have a not-unwarranted reputation for eating, or at least attempting to eat almost anything put in front of us that could be vaguely interpreted as ‘food’, so after a lengthy easter weekend of terribly tame fare like chocolate eggs and barbecued chicken, it was time to give our taste buds a good Asian-style ass whuppin.


On Tuesday Ben and I ventured over to Thanon Khao San on the ‘Thaitown’ end of Pitt Street for some authentic street-style Thai cuisine. We’ve had good experiences with the restaurants around here (we love Saap Thai and Thainatown especially) since the area has become an eating-out hotspot for the Thai student population in the last few years. I’ve spent many months eating in homes, market stalls and festive banquets throughout Thailand, so when it comes to Thai food, I’ll admit I’m a little fussy.

Although it’s named after Bangkok’s incredibly daggy backpacker precinct, Thanon Khao San reminds me very much of the young, buzzing Thai bars/eateries found in cosmopolitan, semi-hip Bangkok neighbourhoods like Pra Athit and Ratchatewi. Thai pop music blares from the bar at the back of the dining room, and there’s a very cool ‘Khao San’ street sign and an actual Thai tuk tuk parked out the front. There’s also a wonderfully authentic hawker stand facing the street, tempting passers-by with colourful, glutinous and gelatinous Thai sweets.

We order a few “safe” dishes – a slightly too sweet beef massaman curry with lovely Thai style roti and khao kaa moo, a sweet, fragrant dish of beautifully soft steamed pork with rice, cabbage and soft-boiled egg. What we’re really here to try is kaeng tai pla, an extremely pungent, salty and spicy soup from southern Thailand made from fermented fish innards. When we order the tai pla our waiter stares at us in surprise and at first tries to prevent us from proceeding with the order.  Eventually he gives in but warns us that we can’t send it back if we don’t like it.

The kaeng tai pla comes with kanom jeen, squiggly white noodles made from rice flour. The smell hits as soon as the dish arrives at the table. This stuff reeks. It has a very potent fishy odour with a sour, heady whiff of fermentation. There are various, mostly unidentifiable scraps of things bobbing around in the muddy, soupy stew. I recognise the miniature Thai eggplants and the chunks of fresh bamboo shoot, and the rest of the floaters I can only describe as random, entraily bits and pieces. The primary taste of kaeng tai pla comes from a curry paste made from the preserved contents of the fish’s belly and it’s an extremely overpowering flavour. It tastes exactly like what you’d expect fermented fish guts to taste like. It’s still however, an extremely clean fish flavour and although tai pla is sometimes translated as “rotten fish”, there’s (thankfully!) no hint of putrescence in this dish.  It’s very, very salty and there is a tonne of hot, hot chilli in the stock as well as lots of sour tamarind and lime to cut through the tastebud–walloping, pickled organ cocktail. We use lots of the Thai basil, bean sprouts and fresh, bitter chopped cabbage provided to try and temper the taste of the soup and we manage to get through most of it. It’s definitely a taste that takes a lifetime of snacking on stinky dried Thai fish jerky to acquire. It was kind of hard to eat, but for me there’s something thrilling and evocative about experiencing such an intense inundation of flavour. I don’t think I’ll order kaeng tai pla from Thanon Khao San again but somehow it has made me love Thai cooking even more.
Thanon Khao San on Urbanspoon