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guide > suggested menus
Over the years, and more recently by e-mail,
many people have asked me for some simple advice as to what to
choose for a first visit to an Indian restaurant. Here in the UK,
most folk of my generation, or younger, have a pretty good working
knowledge of the Indian menu, but in mainland Europe, the United
States and elsewhere (except Bombay) there are still plenty of
curry novices waiting to get hooked, but confused as to where to
begin. So, in answer to the question…….
In this day and age, it's hard to imagine that anyone could be
completely unfamiliar with "curry", if not with the subtle
variety of Indian cuisine.
Wherever we look, the supermarket shelves are filled with ever-more
interesting and seductive homage to the world of spice and chile
pepper madness. Thai, Indian and spicy Chinese ready meals and
menu dishes are the norm where once reigned supreme the chicken-nugget,
meat loaf and shepherd's pie.
If you live in the UK or in any major US or European city, you
will find in your local yellow pages the address of at least one
or, perhaps, many Indian restaurants --- both eat-in and take-away.
There are currently around 8000 Indian restaurants in the UK making
one such eatery for every 6000, or so, of our total population.
Given the demographic and geographic realities of this fact, there
is almost sure to be an Indian Restaurant in every British small
town or large village of 2000 or more inhabitants. Over two million
people eat each week at Indian restaurants with another three million
households cooking at home some form of Indian food, purchased
at their local supermarket.
No wonder, then, that the Indian meal has superceded the Sunday
roast and the Fish 'n Chip shop in representing the new (and some
might suggest improved) national dish of our once great land.
The Indians (and Bangladeshis, who are often actually the owners
and operators of "Indian" restaurants) have always proved
most industrious in bringing their culture and hard-working efforts
to foreign shores -- whether in the culinary trades or perhaps
at the village shop (now, thankfully, probably open 24 hours a
day).
From New York to Brisbane, the robust delights of the Indian food
revolution are now to be sampled and savoured. But if you are a
novice in the ordering stakes and the roulette wheel of gastric
disorder threatens, what to ask for? Where to pin-stick the carry-out
menu?
In the real or imagined world of romantic dinners for two, your
dream-babe companion sits opposite and inquires as to your preference
for onion bhajee or, perhaps, the prawn puree. Option anxiety mingled
with tummy-terror fills your muddled head.
O.K., curry babes-and-buddies, help is forthcoming.
We all know a good chicken when we run over it, or merely pluck
it insensitively from the dutiful Sunday barbecue.
We may have experienced a King Prawn or two in our maritime excesses
and might fancy we know of the health advantage to be gained from
a windy pulse, fiber-endowed veggie or plain staple rice.
Take your seat for dinner: napkin politely on knee and pretended
perusal of the wine list. First, play for time. Sit back, look
confident and ascertain from the waiter if there is an imported
and suitably chilled Indian lager beer to be found in the house.
This should be a Lal Toofal, Cobra, Taj Mahal, or, best of all
(but not if brewed under license in the UK) the Kingfisher.
Otherwise, it may be prudent to stall a little longer with the
Bud, Harp, Millers Lite or whatever passes for a slurpy sip. Or
maybe just passes……
First of all: meat, fish or vegetable as a main course? Let's
get the big and scary bit out of the way. Dry or in a sauce? Spicy-hot
or mild and creamy?
The great thing about Indian cuisine is the availability of vegetarian
options. Lentils, greens, roots and branches, are all conjured
up to please, titillate and satisfy. Perhaps in the form of an
integrated and complete Vegetarian Thali, attractively served in
a "silver" dish of that name, the chance to sample several
small vegetable portions will be found. No longer the poor cousin
of the carnivorous night-out nibbler, you may indulge yourself
with glee, ghee (purified butter) and total satisfaction in your
descent to the ultimate in Vegan gluttony. Whoops, forgot about
the butter……
A BASIC, QUICK
GUIDE
Let's first consider the mild: Korma, Passanda and Muglai are the words to
watch for. Liberal in their creamy mildness, these dishes, from different areas
of the Indian sub-continent, will be face and bowel-savers when the chips are
down.
For those who favour the dryer, purer and not-too-hot taste of
the source meat or fish, try the Tikka or Tandoori versions.
Really spicy hot stuff will be tackled head-on in the Madras or
Vindaloo variations on the theme. Brave but occasionally foolish
forkers, like me, will feel compelled to go for the Phal or Tindaloo,
those macho show-off botty-crippling dishes which we become strangely
ever-addicted to. Nothing disrupts a band sound-check like the
pervasive after-effects of the Tarka Dhal (lentils and garlic).
More acceptably rich and medium in their saucy tastefulness are
the so-called Massalas -- chicken, prawn, shrimp, beef, lamb or
whatever. These might be described as the ultimate safe bet for
the first or second timer.
The CTM (or Chicken Tikka Massala) is the somewhat overly-acclaimed
replacement for Roast Beef and Yorkshire Pudding, at least where
I come from.
The touchy and sensitive palate might prefer the delicate chicken
or lamb Korma which is cooked in a thick creamy yoghurt-based sauce.
Bhajee usually refers to a side vegetable dish as an accompaniment
Pilau is, broadly speaking, a fried rice with additions such as prawn or vegetable
but might just be the simple patna long-grained rice fried in spices, then
boiled with chicken stock to fluff it out, as an accompaniment to a main dish.
Kebabs are a sausage-like starter and could be lamb or beef.
The Persian-origin (but delicious) Dhansak should be medium-hot,
sweet and sour and lentil-based.
The Pathia is usually a dryer version of the same.
Birianis are the safe haven for the Risotto aficionado, being
a rice-plus sort of dish, often served with a wet vegetable curry
on the side.
Indian breads are simple and simply delicious. Nan, cooked in
the Tandoor clay oven, unleavened and doughy, is a delight to be
dipped. The fried Paratha, perhaps with enclosed vegetable filling,
is fattening but fulfilling. The Chapati is a pancake-like thin
excuse for a diet-conscious excursion into a dhal (lentil) sauce.
Purees are deep-fried puffy and crisp pastry enclosures for fish,
veg. or whatever.
The ubiquitous Poppadom resembles a giant potato chip, but is
made from lentil flour, not potato. Massala (spicy) poppadoms or
plain (boring) poppadoms are the perfect time-killer while you
think about ordering any of the rest of these dishes. Often served
with dips of a mild or spicy nature, they allow for cogitation,
deliberation, and excitation before the moment of truth (and consequences).
Should you happen upon a restaurant specializing in regional,
rather than generic Indian cooking, rejoice.
South Indian food, perhaps from the state of Kerala, is rich in
vegetarian and seafood options as well as being famous for rice
flour "breads" and pancakes such as Idlis and Dosas served
with the ubiquitous Sambhar, a lentil-based soupy sauce for dipping
and accompanying most meals, including breakfast. From the muslim
north, come mild, smooth and creamy Mughlai and Passanda lamb and
chicken curries or, from the Kashmir region, fruity mild dishes
or the rich tomato flavoured lamb dish Rogan Josh which might be
the preferred and more cautious way to go. If all the tasty hot
spices prove to be your undoing, then have immediate recourse to
the cooling cucumber and yoghurt Raita. Best order some anyway
as a side dish if in doubt. Plain water rather than beer or wine
will help still the raging result of any rash tasting of your companion's
pork Vindaloo. Monica, pleeeease……
Starters could be a small portion of Tandoori chicken (on the
bone), chicken Tikka (cubed pieces), or the always-popular Samosa,
a triangular meat or vegetable-filled pastry parcel.
Soups are, typically, Dhal soup or the rather Anglicised invention
of the days of the Raj, the Mulligatawny soup -- chicken and rice
and not a million miles from the way your Jewish mother-in-law
might have wished it.
There are, of course many, many regional dishes, especially snacks,
which are to be best found and appreciated in their natural habitat
of the sub-continent, but for now, the standard Indian restaurant
menu must remain as our sometimes pedantic but forever pragmatic
model of culinary adventure. Not exactly fast food, but tasty chow
in a bit of a hurry.
So, here follows the attempt to condense in simple terms, a few
selections of menu choice according to some basic preferences and
tastes.
SUGGESTED MENUS
For those who prefer the
MILD and DRY
Starter: Vegetable Samosa or Chicken Tikka. Plain Poppadoms.
Main course: Lamb Tikka or Tandoori King prawn.
Pilau rice.
Cauliflower or spinach (Sag) Bhajee.
MILD and WET (saucy)
Starter: Dhal or Mulligatawny soup, Nan or Roti bread.
Main course: Chicken or Lamb Korma, Passanda, or Mughlai.
Pilau rice.
Brinjal Bhajee (Aubergine) or Aloo Chana (potato and chick pea).
MEDIUM SPICED DRY
Starter: Prawn puree or Sheek kebab.
Main course: Prawn Pathia or Chicken Bhuna.
Vegetable Biriani, Tarka Dhal (wet lentil/garlic sauce).
MEDIUM SPICED WET
Starter: Soup or Prawn Puree.
Main course: Rogan Josh (lamb), Chicken Tikka Massala Chicken
or Prawn Dhansak.
Plain or Pilau rice.
Sag Aloo (Spinach and potato), Mutter Paneer (chick peas and cheese).
THE HOT STUFF
Main course: Beef Madras (hot), Prawn Vindaloo (very hot). Chicken
Phal (extremely hot).
Best with plain rice.
Dhal Samba (spicy vegetables in lentil sauce). Most restaurants will happily "spice
up" any vegetable dish on request, although this may merely mean an
extra spoonful of curry powder.
All of the above recommendations are based on the typical, average
preparations you will most likely encounter. But you can never
account for some differences in "interpretation" as to
heat strength. I once ordered a simple Tandoori Chicken for everyone
in an infamous so-called Indian restaurant in Sydney, Australia,
only to find that the new chef (who was probably from Alice Springs)
had mistakenly used neat red Chile powder instead of the dry and
mild Tandoori marinade. My wife, Shona took to Australian Lager
in a big way that lunch time in a vain attempt to put out the fire.
Your idea of a really hot curry may be quite at variance with
mine. However, there is no point in indulging in the silly Macho
tendency to consume the most incendiary plate on the planet. If
it is so hot that you can't taste the subtlety of the juicy (and
expensive) King Prawn or the delicate flavourings of the many spices
which make up even the most unpretentious curry powder or paste
which, sadly, most restaurants feel obliged to use, then it becomes
a mere burn-fest. The good folks of Mother India know full well
that the balancing of herbs, spices, chiles, vegetable, fish and
fowl, appropriate to each individual dish, requires a delicate
touch.
You may be fortunate enough to stumble upon a more up-scale Indian
restaurant which uses freshly ground spices and makes up sauces
from scratch, rather than using the pre-prepared stuff, necessarily
typical of industrialised food preparation everywhere. Go for it.
Pay for it. Thank the Pantheon of Hindu Gods for it. And tip the
waiter.
Final thought:
Wagner, Beethoven and Hendrix might have chanced the Vindaloo
but Mozart, Debussy and John Denver were probably Korma or, perhaps,
Dhansak guys on a daring night. Got the picture? See you in Curry
Heaven.
Ian Anderson |