Category Archives: Food

Dabbas for dummies

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If you, like I, have never actually lived in Bombay, here’s a great primer on why office workers use the O.G. FedEx (via Kunjan):

A restaurant meal costs five to fifteen times more than home-food. To them, the dabbawalla brings the security of a cheap, clean, tasty and often still-warm, home-cooked meal… Bombay alone can sustain a dabbawalla network of this size and complexity because it alone, among Indian cities, has a quick, efficient and far-flung suburban railway service.

Not to mention that many have religion-based dietary restrictions. Density and train availability is also why some businesses only work in Manhattan and like cities; Bombay’s north-south orientation is strikingly familiar. Here’s how the routing system works — each packet is marked with hops, destination and recipient name, and handoffs are made at railway stations:

The outer case of Mohile’s dabba is marked with a black swastika, a red dot, a yellow stroke… Different marks on other dabbas tell the career at which stations en route he must pass them on to other waiting links in the crosscross network. At Victoria Terminus, the hub of commercial Bombay, Mohile’s dabba enters the last phase of its journey. Dabbawalla No. 4 waiting on the platform, picks it out together with other boxes marked with his symbol, the white cross. The black circle on Mohile’s case indicates its exact destination: the BMC Building. By 12.30 he has carried his crate up four flights of stairs and left Mohile’s lunch-box along with some 20 others in a corner of the canteen. Mohile, coming in at 1 p.m. will recognise his dabba from his name on an attached tag.

The dabbawallas’ perseverence puts the U.S. Postal Service to shame, and they charge only 35 rupees a month:

Some months ago, a dabbawalla waiting on his bicycle at a traffic light was hurled off the road by a lorry gone berserk and was smashed to death… The mukadam [dabba boss] got to hear of the accident within minutes and contracted the secretary of the Association… asked him to look after the police formalities, collected the dead man’s dabbas, and being familiar with the symbols, got them to their destination — just 30 minutes late…

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Holi Day munchies

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Straight from your druggie aunties and uncles, here are some traditional recipes for Holi bhang. The Hindustan Times even tells you how to make pot laddoos and green halva!

Bhang, or cannabis, is freely associated with the splash of assorted Holi colours. During this season, bhang is prepared and served according to age-old traditions throughout the Himalayan foothills.

With a simple mortar and pestle, the buds and leaves of cannabis are squashed and ground into a green paste, to which milk, ghee and spices are added. This base can be mixed with the nutritious, refreshing drink, thandai… This can also be mixed with ghee and sugar to make a tasty green halvah, and into peppery, chewy little balls called [golis].

I’m cracking up just thinking of aunties hanging out around shady parks after midnight trying to score Shiva’s herb for their Holi parties. Mistress of Spices indeed. Like Bhang for Chocolate. Maybe desis’ popularity in stoner flicks is justified — I’ll never look at pista barfi the same way again.

The adult Holi is the desi Halloween, a day for masks, flirting and outrageous fun. Meanwhile, bhangra aficionados are busy denying that its name derives from bhang:

Cecil Beaton described the ‘concoction of milk of almonds, rosewater, carminum nuts and eight ingredients of which hashish, or Bhang, was the principal’. (‘One of the effects of Bhang,’ he further reported, ‘is that it makes everything appear humorous. Another is that strange things happen to one’s sense of time.’)

Brimful’s amphora runneth over as she tells a hilarious tale about an auntie, an airport and a dime bag:

… her brother-in-law, V mama, puts in his request, asks her to get him some of that stuff that goes into bhang. She puts it on the list, describes it exactly that way when she seeks it out in India.

So there she is, waiting in the customs line at Logan, carting along two rather young kids, bags filled to the point of bursting, and the customs inspector decides that her bags should be inspected…. The inspector does his thing, until he comes to a bag of dried leaves. “What’s this?” he asks.

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And you can’t beat that with a bat

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Babu, a new restaurant in Greenwich Village which serves food from Calcutta, apparently made up its menu according to Black Sheep’s hip-hop classic, ‘The Choice Is Yours.’ The formerly price-list-free restaurant sits below Kati Roll Co. and is by the same owner (thanks, Turbanhead):

… the menu came without prices. Instead, guests were invited to eat, enjoy, and then, at the end of the meal, pay what they thought it was worth. “I’d rather work out the kinks in the kitchen first,” Payal Saha, the restaurant’s owner, explained the other day, sitting at a corner table of Babu, which was about a quarter full of couples quietly eating and mentally calculating the value of their experience…

Payments range from generous (foodies) to parsimonious (Midwesterners):

 “We had one couple who paid two hundred bucks for an eighty-dollar meal,” Saha said… “We talked to some people before sending them their check, asking if they would pay fifty dollars for this meal,” Jung said. “The people mostly said yes, except for one couple from Minneapolis. They were shocked at that price.”

In classic desi fashion, our fine young cannibals took advantage of the price-free policy:

A rowdy group of ten young Indians walked in one Friday evening and occupied the restaurant’s large central table. Their response to no prices was to leave no money; they didn’t even tip the wait staff.

But all good things must come to an end on the credit card slip, top copy:

A few weeks ago, prices were finally written into the menu: a three-course meal with wine comes to about fifty dollars a head.

The New Yorker also covered M.I.A. recently — is Eustace Tilly crushing on cumin?

Chutney Lady

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The Gray Lady discovers chaat. Next, they’ll be telling their readers about this great new thing called roti 🙂 But then the piece goes all sensual on you:

The contrasts are, as one fan said, “a steeplechase for your mouth,” with different sensations galloping by faster than you can track them… Chaats can be made with almost anything crispy: … fresh ginger, mung bean sprouts and spice-dusted toasted lentils. Chaat masala usually includes amchoor, a tangy powder made from green mangoes, mint, cumin and pomegranate, but it must always include kala namak, a black salt with a pleasant whiff of sulfur… “In India a guy might have a Mercedes and live in a house on a hill, but he still puts on his slippers and goes to eat chaat…”

A fine tribute to pani puri… by Ganghadar Gopal Gadgil… “In that state of beatitude the Maharashtrians stop being surly, the Marwaris look at the millions of stars without being reminded of their own millions, the Sindhis admire the horizon without any intention of selling it, the Gujaratis speculate on the moon instead of the scrips they should have sold, the North Indians dream of things other than Hindi as the official language of the United Nations, and even the Parsi ladies stop nagging their husbands.”

Be still my gurgling stomach. And, more importantly, the story tells you where to get your fix, though Dimple’s been open for years:

… two popular, top-quality chaat specialists have opened in Midtown Manhattan: Dimple Fast Food and Sukhadia’s Sweets. Manhattan has lately been seized by a craze for Indian snacks, with upscale new places like Spice Market, Bombay Talkie, Von Singh’s, Devi, Lassi and Babu all claiming Indian street food as an inspiration…

… Chowpatty Foods [of Iselin, NJ]… has just imported a chaat cart from India in the red-and-white color scheme of the Chowpatty chaat wallahs… a traditional chaat wallah sits surrounded by his mounds of dry ingredients… and his own mix of jal-jeera, the “firewater” that is used to fill the habit-forming pani puri.

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Bhatt, James Bhatt

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Just to round out your celebrity trivia for the day –

Former James Bond star Pierce Brosnan is reportedly so fed up with American food, that he is planning to open an Indian restaurant in Los Angeles. According to femalefirst, the Irish actor is frantically searching in India for a chef worthy of cooking at the Indian restaurant he plans to open later this year.

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Other similarities between mutineers and rappers

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We both love desi take-out. Of course, some of us hoof it over to Curry in a Hurry, while others use a whirligig:

Rapper Snoop Dogg paid $5,700 for Indian take-out to be flown to his London after-show party via private helicopter. The rap star ordered the food from The Four Pillars Indian restaurant in Buckinghamshire, England for his Friday night gig at London’s Hammersmith Carling Apollo.

We told you earlier about Beyonce’s 4,000 pound curry (that’s pounds sterling) but did you know that Tom Cruise has food flown from his favorite desi restaurant in the UK when he’s on location? Nor is this just a red carpet privilege, it’s available to the merely obscenely wealthy as well.

Millionaire businessman Baljit Singh surprised staff at Kalam’s Raj Indian takeaway in Brook Road, Shirley,UK, by ordering 35 dishes over the internet and asking for it to be delivered to where he was staying – Ocean Five Hotel, Miami Beach. Mr Singh placed his order and paid for it to be flown from Biggin Hill airport to Heathrow by helicopter and from Heathrow to Miami by plane, a journey costing almost £800.The food cost £589, but Mr Singh was given a 10 per cent discount for spending more than £10. The food was specially prepared, packed and flown to Miami. Mr Malik accompanied the delivery and was on hand to reheat and serve it when it reached the hotel. Speaking after his return, he said: “He was very pleased with it and seemed a really normal man. He even gave us a £200 tip!”

And I thought it was bad enough that my aunties would fedex fresh sabzi and roti, packed in dry ice, to their kids. And doesn’t anybody realize that there is good desi food in Canada? In the US even? Nah … Continue reading →

Is your computer vegetarian?

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To y’all 220 million vegetarian desis: Is your favorite Asian restaurant’s idea of vegetarian food ‘yes, it has veggies too’? Do you marvel at how many ways some insidious bastards work meat into veggie dishes (pepperoni in pasta salad, rice cooked in chicken stock)? Are you sick of throwing away soup you bought without parsing the ingredients like a copy editor? Bored of restaurant menus that read meat, meat, meat, meat, meat, meat, meat, sprig of parsley?

Soon, you may also have to check whether your PC is made from animal products. Researchers are turning chicken feathers into computer motherboards:

To turn feathers into a usable product, they are first plucked from the birds at chicken-processing plants and then the hot, wet feathers are immediately hauled to Emery’s plant. There the “undesirable parts” like chicken heads, feet, windpipes and fecal matter are sorted out from the truckload of feathers. “They’re not a nice sight, to put it mildly…”

… Emery converts the feather fiber into keratin mats that resemble paper towels. They are then placed into a mold, layered on top of one another and infused with a soybean resin that hardens and forms the composite. The material is then put through the circuit-printing process to become a circuit board.

This gives new meaning to the expression ‘my new machine really screams.’ Ironically, the same people who think Gandhi, Jim Morrison and John Lennon drinking their own urine is disgusting, think eating cows fed chicken poop is perfectly ok.

But things are looking up for those who steer clear of digestive recycling: instead of ordering mu shu, you can now order Moo Shoes.

Indian food hacks

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You know how your desi mom totes around lal mirch in her purse because everything’s just too damn bland? And how embarrassing it is when she whips it out at restaurants, hunched over like it was a bottle of Night Train? This is just like that, but classier because, um, you’re epicurious: here’s my favorite Indian food hack from my bachelor kitchen.

At most grocery stores, you can buy tortelloni or ravioli stuffed with fillings such as sun-dried tomatoes and cheese. Try boiling the tortelloni for five minutes, ladling on spaghetti sauce and adding the secret topping: generous scoops of chutney powder, a.k.a. idli masala. It’s a yellow-orange spice mix that morphs the flavor of ravioli into something as delicious as dum aloo. It’s easier than fixing a sandwich, and it is absolutely sabroso. I’ve eaten it for six months and I’m still not sick of it.

And I’m not the only Marco Pulao running around. The desi pizza joints of Jersey City and Jackson Heights, and my own family, are famous for their Indian reimagining of hot pie. Dumpling Man, who makes fresh, thin-skinned Chinese dumplings, offers a spaghetti sauce option. I pitched him a chutney powder topping in a note scribbled on the back of a business card; when I left, I think he was laughing.

Here’s an older, non-Italian favorite which I eventually wore out: toasted onion rolls with spicy hummus, pepperjack cheese and the secret ingredient: mango achar. Please, for the love of Bacchus, share your own favorite food hack here in the comments.

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Bombay Talkie opens in Manhattan

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Bombay Talkie, a new chaat-plus-entrees place that sounds like an upscale version of Kati Roll Co., opened recently in Chelsea. It shares its name with the novel by Ameena Meer. The NYT says:

The menu plays with the conceit of Indian street food, and so appetizers are listed as “street bites.” Entrees appear under the heading “from the roadside.” Side dishes are from, well, the “curbside…” Bombay Talkie is in many ways a neighborhood joint in an especially pretty dress, designed by Thomas Juul-Hansen…

… then of course there are the cocktails, which, I’m told, take their names from Bollywood movies… What are the temperature, tinge and taste of “unrequited love”? It is cold but not frigid, transparent but vaguely green, and extremely potent, thanks to modest measures of lime juice and saffron syrup in a sea of Bombay Sapphire gin.

The place has a dark sense of humor:

Brunch has a theme they’re calling The Return of the Raj: teas, tea sandwiches, pancakes, hams, fresh preserves….if not trickle pie.

Kati Roll Co., a tiny, long-time Greenwich Village favorite, has a rotating selection of classic Bollywood posters on the wall. And speaking of the designer, I haven’t figured out yet why the Dutch are so into desi kitsch. I’m not complaining.

Bombay Talkie, 189 Ninth Ave. between 21st & 22nd St., (212) 242-1900

Boing Boing discovers paan

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The normally reliable cypherpunk cool-hunters at Boing Boing discover a strange new delicacy called ‘paan.’ They’ve linked to bloggers who, in typical geek fashion (I mean that as the highest compliment), have catalogued its production with step-by-step photos and reference objects for scale. Spitting contests with laser ranging can’t be far behind.

In related news, I’ve spotted an obscure Western dessert called ‘canoli.’ A mass spectrographic analysis will follow.

Here’s what I say: leave the paan, take the canoli.

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