Ish liebe Deutchland!

I know it's been a month since my last post, and let me assure you it is not because I haven't eaten since. I've been rather uninspired. Bloody bored. But there's nothing quite like Bavarian food to brighten your spirits. Well, the last time I was out for Bavarian food, it involved a whole lot of chanting, dancing on tables, and then spending the next 3 weeks nursing a broken ankle. Wouldn't blame the brew though. Or would I? Can't remember.



I was looking at ze menu and I couldn't help thinking - "ah this is some solid, rustic, wholesome food". Rustic, wholesome, and ze likes, often used to describes food, describes more accurately what ze food is not, rather than what ze food is. In nouvelle cuisine ze main feature is more often than not placed in the centre of the plate, as though drawing upon itself a sort of planetary importance, boulstered by other elements of ze dish circling around like moons. Nice at times, but too perfect most others. You never look at something like that on a plate and think to yourself - "I can't wait to dig in." It's more like - "It looks great. Genius. Maybe I'll look at it some more before I send ze perfectly symetrical, dandy arrangement into a  worm-hole-like chaos." A distraction, in a way, for a glutton like me. If nouvelle cusine is a selection of the best bits from the whole world arranged as a delicate system of balance on a plate, then Bavarian food is ze whole damn universe! And in my mind, in food terms, the whole universe contains, and should only contain two things - meat and starch.

On occasions, when ordering something off a menu, my expectation of how large ze dish is going to be does come into consideration. There is nothing worse than ordering something that is not enough, Not the case with German food. Order even a salad and they plonk a entire garden on your plate. With all the wildlife ofcourse. I ordered a Liver Dumpling Soup to start.

Good soup this. A meaty, marrowey broth. Well seasoned, as all good food should be, sprinkled with Parsley. The Liver Dumpling, no different to a Faggot. Just right considereing what I had coming.

Ze Leberknodel !

For ze main course, it was ze Roast Pork with a Potato Salad. The Pork was cooked to perfection. Ze best hunk of pig I have had in a long long time. Skin and fat left on. Would make a madallion look like baby food. The Potato Salad, good too. Tangy, like most Germany accompaniments. Goes well with the fattiness of ze meat. Had some crispy lardons of bacon on top, just for good measure. It's almost like the more fat they can introduce, to what's already a super heavy dish, the better. I like a lot. Fat's got a bad name. It's the best carrier of flavour. And that's the most important thing about food - the way it tastes.

Duck curry - Kerala Style

In India Chicken is about the only poultry you can lay your hands on without much scouting. Chicken is boring. I will go as far as saying that chicken should be downgraded to the status of a tubor. Managed to lay my hands on a duckling yesterday. Really. Only about 400 grams. The size of a partridge. And how happy it made me. I ate Braised Duck while I was in China last month. And would you believe it, I sat there thinking, as I stuffed my face with the worth-while foul, how it would taste curried. So I decided to find out with my little duckling.

This is a 'nadan' Kerala recipe. Nadan means local - if you are thinking of using the word to impress a Mallu, don't do it. You will never figure out how to pronounce it. It took me about 10 minutes just to get a Keralite to understand what I was saying. - It basically implies that it's a very simple one, nothing fancy. And it's true to the name. Though I want to shoot myself for describing it like this, it is like a very simple chicken curry. Barring the use of coconut oil. And nothing else will do! For that 'Nadan' taste it's got to be coconut oil. That's what the recipe said, and that is what I did.

Skin the duck and if your's is as small as mine - I am referring to the duck - cut it into four pieces. The neck into two. Coat in plenty of salt and turmeric and set aside.

In a kadhai fry one sliced onion and add some ginger, garlic and half a dozen peppercorns when brown. Three times as much ginger as garlic. In 5, add a paste of chili powder, coriander powder and garam masala. Some salt too. Once the paste is cooked whack in a sprig of curry leaves and the duck after rinsing and draining. Cook on medium till oil seperates and then simmer till tender. Add hot water as required. Season. Garnish with fried potatoes. Easy as. And you wouldn't believe the taste.

Down in Shanghai Town

China never fails to amaze me. Order a critter and get served it's blood in a glass along with its man rocks? Classic!

This time round I skipped a visit to the Heart of China in favour of the commercial capital. And I learnt very quickly that the food culture in the two cities is worlds apart. The kind of street carnival-esque setup that I experienced in Beijing is not to be seen here. At least no where near the city centre. So in the hope of some local food I headed, with a friend, to a haunt, not very far from the ex-pat district, that serves up some killer food. Don't ask me the name of the place. I haven't a clue.

The Pickled Monkey Ear Fungus (Auricularia) was an easy one to pick off the menu. I have had this before. But this serving was sharper, with more vinegar. The texture reminded me of the cartilaginous Sliced Pig Ears that I have eaten elsewhere. But with less bite. A texture that you can't really get bored of.

Pickled Monkey Ear Fungus

In the name of novelty - maybe for me, but this is a very popular Chinese snack - I ordered some Pickled Duck Tongues. Now, I am all up for eating everything, but this was probably one of the most pointless things I have every eaten. Almost as pointless as a vegetarian sausage. I think they would have been a lot better fried of grilled with some of that super sticky Chinese sauce. Nonetheless, a first.

Pickled Duck Tongues

Then cometh something that was very close in flavour to the Chinese we get back home. Sweet and Sour Fish. The fish was first deep fried and then tossed in the sweet and sour sauce. Topped with pine nuts. A lot more pungent than the stuff we are used to. Owing to the generous lashings of vinegar again. Quite a superb dish. The frying of the fish made the skin crunchy, adding a great contrast to the gooey, sticky sauce.



Sweet and Sour Fish

And then, a local speciality. Braised Pork Belly. With boiled eggs, which I was told were boiled in Green Tea. Couldn't really taste the tea through all the fat and flavour but the thought of that being true made the whole thing seems a little more special. It is the style of cooking - braising in a heavy iron pan - that makes this dish so characteristic to the region. I had the same dish again in city nearby Shanghai, where once again, it was introduced as the local speciality. The sensible ones, including locals, do not eat all of the fat. I was in considerable discomfort that night for not following suit. But I'd do the same again.


Braised Pork Belly



Pork tagine with bulgur

There isn't a culinary demographic that doesn't have it's own version of a stew. The Tagine is probably one of the most popular stews. With a fancy name of course. Come to think of it, naming food after the utensils used in their cooking or presentation is quite a common phenomenon. You have the Kadhai Chicken/Mutton in India, the Handi too, the Paella in Spain, you have a New York Pot Roast, very different from Roast Beef mind you. And, how could I forget, the very British Balti.

Stew was quite a favourite with I was a student - I don't like the sound of that for some reason. Stewing cuts were cheap - sounds like I lived through a war. And a large pot would last a couple of days. Haven't been stewing much lately. I have had an undercut of pork lying in the fridge for a couple of days and I was struggling a little with what to do with it. Pickling it did cross my mind. But in a moment of better judgement, a Tagine I decided. I do not own a tagine, so it's technically a pork saucepan. But we'll stick with Tagine.

Pork Tagine and Pepper and Tomato Bulgur 

So here goes. This recipe is adapted from about 3 different ones. I dusted 500 grams of pork undercut with a tablespoon of flour with a pinch of saffron and pepper. I think a fattier cut would have been better. Maybe shoulder.

I browned the meat in a couple of tablespoons of vegetable oil and set aside. In the same pan sweat

• one onion
• 3 tbsps ginger
• 1 tbsp garlic

When the onions start to caramelize add

• 1 tsp cumin
• 1/2 tsp cinnamon powder
• some paprika
• some rasins

I returned the meat to the pan, added 2 cups of chicken stock and cooked on a low heat for about an hour and a half. Before adding the stock, I chucked in a quartered apple, which I removed and discarded after about 25-30 minutes. The apple lends it's sweetness to the dish and balances the paprika nicely. Works well in the absence of apricots. Goes without saying - season to taste.

I cooked the bulgur - dalia - with deseeded tomatoes, green peppers and saffron. a little pinch of turmeric to help on the yellow. Garnish the bulger with skinned, roasted almonds.

And voila, you might as well be in Morocco.

Chicken Liver and Pork Terrine, Pickled Red Cabbage

Chicken Liver and Pork Terrine

It doesn't get much meatier than this really. Chicken livers and pork. And bacon. The pork, lean. Undercut of pig. Mince 1:1 of pork and chicken livers. Mince as you like. You can make it extra fine if you want. But I like it a little chunky. For that rustic feel. Season well. The iron from the livers can do with a good dose of salt to bring out the flavour. Whack in some:

• chopped fresh parsley
• ground ginger
• cinnamon

And that's it. Mix well. No measures here. Be sensible. Put the meat putty in a bacon lined bread tin. Smoked bacon if you have. Oven, 170 degrees for about an hour and a half. Till the juices from the middle run clear. Or if you have a meat thermometer, 160 degrees in the centre. Turn the terrine out onto a plate and put in a fridge till cold. If you try to cut it while it's hot, its all going to break apart.

I pickled some red cabbage to go with this. Pickled in a mixture of white vinegar, apple cider vinegar, salt and sugar. Thought the sharpness would cut through the rich terrine quite well. And it did. Also some fig jam. Can't really go wrong with pork and a bit of sweet. Great for a brunch.

Filet Mignon with Red Wine and Vanilla Sauce

Buffalo at it's best

Went and bought myself a 2 foot tenderloin the other day. Not beef. Buffalo. I have been eating buffalo quite a bit recently. Does well in the absence of beef. Though I am sure I could find some with a bit of effort. The best thing you could do to a tenderloin is to make yourself some Filet Mignons. Ideally, they are about an inch in diameter, so best use the tapered end of the loin.

I rolled a segment from the tapered end in some pepper and a bit of salt and let sit for a bit. To cook, I simply seared it in oil, with a dollop of butter and set in the oven at 200 degrees till rare.

The sauce is a good one. Got a nice sweetness. And that goes well with beef. I wanted to use juniper berries but don't get them around these parts.

In a pan, reduce to half:

• a cup of red wine
• the same of stock, beef preferably
• with oregano
• a tsp of vanilla
• a tsp of tomato paste
• salt and pepper to taste
• some sugar, brown preferably
• half an onion
• 2 cloves of garlic, crushed

Once reduced, thicken with a roux.

Served with creamed mash and some beans for roughage. 25 quid on a plate?

Rule Britania

The second Parsi food institution I have been to in the past few months. The first was Kayani Bakery in Pune. For their Mawa Cakes and Shrewsbury Biscuits. Never have I seen such a line of punters waiting outside drawn shutters like that. And when the shutter opened, you know exactly where the term selling like hot cakes came from.

It would have been a bit of a let down if I didn't have to wait my turn to be fed at Britania. Remember watching an interview on TV with the gentleman who still sits at the joint, and supervises his son, who in turn supervises everything else. The name Britania, he said, was given to the place to drawn in the British folk back in the day. Typical Parsi.

It was a good feeding. But a mixed bag. Partly because not everything was up to standard and partly owing to the fact that I was so looking forward to this that no matter how good it had been I would have found something lacking. I was looking forward to the raspberry lemonade, central to any Parsi occasion, as much as I was everything else. Nearly drove right through a red light day dreaming about the stuff. It had been years since I last had my last raspberry lemonade at a Navjot. Over the years I had so romanticised the thing in my head when actually it tastes a bit like cough syrup. The human mind eh?!

The Sali Boti was interesting. It's not like your North Indian Curry. There is the Gujarati influence in there somewhere. The Sali, crispy fried potatoes on top, do add other dimension to the texture, but take away from the flavour, I thought. A little sweet, from the tomatoes. Watery. To be entirely honest this was the let down. Served stone cold, not enough meat. The sure sign of a place cutting corners. And it isn't cheap. I'd at least expect something mildly warm for that kind of money.



Sali Boti

The Mutton Cutlets were exactly what you'd expect.Well seasoned, wholesome and damn oily. A little more care to the oil temperature goes a long way when frying anything. If the oil temperature is right, what you fry doesn't soak copious amounts of oil. Contact with the well hot oil will seal the food immediately. More Sali. A meal in itself.


Mutton Cutlets

The Mutton Berry Pulao is a winner. Iranian I gather. The Berberis makes this dish. They add a certain sweetness and tartness. The caramelised onions, more sweetness. Still, not enough meat. To make up for the meat the Pulao had little meat balls made from the same stuff the cutlets were made of. Cutting corners again? Still worth a trip for the Pulao.

Mutton Berry Pulao

For dessert? My favourite! Sneak a peak into the fridge, on the right, as you enter. The Caramel Custards sell fast. Might have to order yours early. Now that I mention, the Caramel Custard has been my unicorn. The last two times I have ordered it, it's been sold out. Makes this one all the better. Try the Caramel Custard at Trishna, Kaala Ghoda. Great too.

Caramel Custard