Asma Khan’s Darjeeling Express Supperclub @ Asia House

Have you ever been to a private party in a central London townhouse with the food cooked by an amazing chef? Well we hadn’t till last Saturday when we went to Asma Khan’s Supperclub. Asma was partially raised in Kolkata, so there was an obvious affinity, is a law PhD, another affinity, and has begun her own food business using her mother’s own experiences and most importantly recipes.

We have both been to Asia House before – it’s a beautifully maintained townhouse with high ceilings and long – and tiring – staircases, for lectures, seminars and book launches. Sue and I are both time-conscious and so were among the first to arrive in the basement exhibition space which was showing the paintings of Lance Ribeiro, an Indian-Goan artist. We were greeted by Asma herself who was aware of Sue’s inability to eat spicy food. Asma commented that she can’t eat spicy food either which is perhaps unique for someone brought up in Kolkata. Soon afterwards the gin arrived. We were served a unique gin created by Ross William Butler, based on a Victorian recipe – some of the ingredients included coriander, cloves, star anise, fennel, lemongrass, cardamom, lemon and lime. With the addition of cucumber and tonic this was indeed a flavoursome gin and very well received.

We were slightly conscious that some of the other guests were already known to Asma and were in larger groups. But we need not have worried – when we went upstairs for dinner we had engrossing conversations with our companions on subjects ranging from Indian infrastructure – a favourite topic of ours – to China’s growth, to how Calcutta is the centre of the known universe.

Many of the guests like ourselves had brought their wine and alcohol. And some in quite sophisticated bags such as a suitable coolbag. We felt as though we had let the side down by carrying wine in our rucksacks. On the main table we saw wine, beer, champagne and whiskey.

So, on to the centrepiece of the evening, the food. Our starters were a lamb samosa, beef momo, and a chicken kati roll. The pastry in the samosa was exquisite, and the filling too. The beef momo filling was delicately spiced, and delicious. But for me the pick of the starters was the chicken kati roll – the pastry wrap was amongst the best I have tasted, slightly fluffy in texture. The chicken filling was perfectly cooked. This is a dish that is hard to get right for 25-30 guests almost simultaneously. Both Sue and I could have eaten more of the starters but we were pacing ourselves despite there being additional servings of starters on the table.

After the first courses Asma introduced herself to the guests, telling us that she named her business “Darjeeling Express” after the train to Darjeeling. It is a toy train, on a smaller gauge, travelling quite slowly almost in the middle of the road, with mountain views. I have not travelled on it as my trips have been in winter and the train runs seasonally. Asma told us that travelling on the train gave her a great feeling of freedom being able to ride with one’s head out of the window.

Asma then introduced us to a director of Asia House who gave us a short introduction into its work and goals. Then the curator said a few words about the Ribeiro exhibition in the basement. Sue and I were very impressed by the painter, and to see the exhibition was great way to begin the evening. Ribeiro was born in Goa, came to the UK to study, and stayed for many years before returning to India. Ribeiro painted in a number of styles and used colour vividly. We did think there were hints of Catholic angst in some of his work. It is notable that he was supported by the Tata Corporation in India. Amongst the guests was Ribeiro’s daughter who very graciously thanked us for coming to see her father’s work.

Then it was on to the main courses: prawn malai curry, Khare Masale ka Gosht (lamb curry) and Bhopali Achaar Chicken. Of these the lamb and chicken were exquisite: the lamb in particular was tender, and the spicing on the chicken very delicate. As with the starters there was plenty to go round. The accompaniments: lemon rice, pureed aubergine, dal, were very tasty. The rice in particular with cashew nuts reminded me of my mother’s cooking. We were very impressed with the raita, full of cucumber and cumin.

Before the desserts Ross William Butler told us about the gin he had created and took a couple of questions. The desserts were stewed apricots and fruit chaat. Both were delicious together with the First Flush Darjeeling Tea. Then we took our leave but not before saying a few words in Bengali to Asma.

We both loved our first supper club experience and Asma’s cooking. We felt like guests at a select dinner party. The menu was very carefully chosen and all of the individual dishes went well together. The quality of the cooking and the ingredients were high-class. At £45 a head taking into account the food, the location, the exclusive atmosphere, and Asma’s hosting we thought it great value. We have eaten in Michelin starred Indian restaurants and equivalent in London and Delhi and Asma’s food compares favourably. We would love to go to Asma’s future events.

http://asiahouse.org/

http://darjeeling-express.com/

http://www.edibleexperiences.com/p/267054/

TV Review - Rick Stein in India

I had been looking forward to this programme ever since I saw the accompanying book getting coverage on Amazon. I actually bought a copy for Sue and gave it to her as an early birthday present. Perhaps I can look forward to lots of new Indian dishes in the next few weeks. Then I learnt that Calcutta (I still can’t bring myself to call it Kolkata) was to be centre stage in the first programme of the series – so it was a must-see.

Stein began by showing off his kitchen for the series which I thought was on a house boat on a lagoon in Kerala. He showed himself observant of Indian traditions by letting a pan of milk boil over as a sign of good luck although I had never heard of this. In his commentary he said he had spent 3 months in India and wanted to dispel some of the myths about curry. Then from the near silence of Kerala we were transported to the sights, sounds, and tastes of Calcutta.

In Calcutta the first stop was Nizam’s, a place I have heard of – in my introduction to Calcutta “Days and Nights in Calcutta” – for its famous kathi rolls – fluffy parathas stuffed with a vegetarian or meat filling. Regular readers of this website will know that we have experienced similar kathi rolls in Mid-Wales. (Link) The next stop was what Stein called “a hole in the wall” restaurant which served a prawn cutlet fried in butter.

When the next scene started Sue and I texted each other almost simultaneously: “It’s Angus!!”. Again readers of this website will know that we recently went to Angus Denoon’s Kolkata Street Food event (link here) and it was a delight to see him in Calcutta guiding Stein and wearing his usual tartan hat in the heat. Stein’s initial comment was that he would love to bring all his trainee chefs to experience the street food.

Denoon guided Stein around the street food of Calcutta. First there was a chura stall. Churas are flattened rice with water, yoghurt, and sugar. Then a stall selling pushkas (pani puri), crispy balls stuffed with mashed potato and tamarind water. The last savoury stall featured one of our favourites, and one that Angus has made his trademark - jhal muri. Here it included puffed rice, tomatoes, coconut, onion, and mustard oil. Stein compared it to savoury rice krispies which is ironic since I grew up with muri made from the cereal. In the film 'The Namesake', Ashima, recently arrived in the US, is shown making muri with rice krispies.

Lastly Angus directed Rick to Indian sweets made from buffalo milk but I think the sweets sold in Southall and Brick Lane are better than most in Calcutta. Rick sampled the misti doi (sweet yoghurt) which Sue and I both love. Angus commented that the stalls need to be clean and hygienic otherwise they will lose customers in the long run; while I would be tempted next time in Calcutta I have memories of my family suffering the equivalent of “Delhi Belly” on a number of occasions.

I was struck, as in Angus’s film, by the skills of the chefs / entrepreneurs, and also the use of existing materials such as newspapers to wrap food, clay pots for misti doi, and banana leaves as plates. Very little goes to waste in Calcutta. Just watching it again really brought out the skill and resourcefulness of the street food vendors, of a standard rarely seen in the UK.

Then it was back to restaurant food but with a twist - Suruchi, run by the All Bengal Women’s Union for the benefit of destitute women. Stein loitered in the kitchens as the women made a simple curry. I did find the attitude of the manager paternalistic, as she supervised and described the lives of the women. "Lovely girls", she said patronisingly, and Stein repeated, "Yes, they are lovely girls'. 'Very lovely girls', she confirmed. The 'girls' were apparently often lost or abandoned as children and then taken in by the Union. But they 'don't want to be reminded of that, because we love them, we love them very much'. This is all very good and charitable, but, as Sue remarked, the mere existence of the Union and their activities smacked of state failure. Where were the police and social services to find the women’s parents and look after them? Can you imagine if a child was found on the street, lost from its family in the UK? Yes, you need love and charity, but also police investigation, social services and either reunion with the family or court involvement and justice.

But I might criticise the Union too quickly. It seems it is far broader than just a canteen. It encompasses an education system, developing other skills such as dancing, IT, self-defence, and encouraging the women to go out to the wider world. I would urge you to watch the Youtube video about the Union’s activities (link here).

Apart from Bengali sweets Bengalis are best known for their near addiction to fish and in particular fresh water river fish. Stein spent time close to the River Hooghly watching fish being gathered. Then a visit to Kewpie’s, a well-known Bengali restaurant to see rui fish being prepared by the proprietor who said that making a fish dish was a bride’s way of showing off her culinary skills to her husband’s family.

Over two-thirds of the programme was dedicated to Calcutta but then we accompanied Stein down the Coromandel Coast towards Chennai. There a look around St George’s Fort, which was the centre of British military power. In Chennai Stein focussed on Anglo-Indian food preparing a pastiche of a beef curry that would have been made in the UK before curries became very popular – I adamantly refuse to eat beef curry as it’s a British invention, although I love my steak. Then a visit to the Madras Club, reminiscent of the Calcutta and Bengal Clubs which I have visited. There the chefs showed him how to make mulligatawny soup and commented that the club members ask for roast lamb and shepherd’s pie. At the Madras Club there was a spirited Q&A session between the members and Stein trying to understand what curry meant.

The programme ended with a visit to a Coromondel fishing village and a realisation of the hard life of fishermen. Stein was quite taken with the concept of blending wet and dry ingredients.

Of course as one of Bengali heritage I was fascinated by the focus on Calcutta and it was quite pleasing that Stein chose to begin his odyssey there. But there was almost a romanticised notion in the way Calcutta was lovingly filmed and presented. There was also emphasis on imperial history with a look at the Writers’ Building in Calcutta, Fort St George in Chennai, and the visit to the decidedly imperialist Madras Club which did not allow Indian members until the mid-1960s.

My own feeling based partly on this film is that food culture is stronger in Calcutta than in other Indian cities. It has thrived partly because of history, partly because of relative economic backwardness caused mainly by Communist and left-wing governments, and a political culture which made it difficult, for example, for American chains like McDonalds and KFC to open stores. But there is as far as I can see no pure Bengali restaurant in London. If you know of one please let us know. I am certainty more tempted to try local restaurants when I next visit Calcutta rather than confining myself to the major hotels.

Overall 5 stars with my recommendation perhaps slightly distorted by the focus on Calcutta but I shall be watching the rest of the series with interest.

 

'Debdas' - Richmix, Saturday 15 June.

Last Saturday night saw Susen and me heading to Richmix, near Shoreditch High Street. For me this was going back to my old stomping ground of East London – one I had left back in 2001. Stepping out of the station, I was struck by the transformation of the area – from slightly run down with a gritty urban creative undercurrent, to now uber-trendy with new blocks of upmarket flats amid the new expanding creative and media industries. Richmix was right at home there – a charity / social enterprise with a huge variety of arts, music and cultural events. I had to smile to myself on the train going over there, overhearing a conversation between a young couple. He was asking her whether they would be able to buy alcohol in Brick Lane (probably – though not the first place that would come to mind, it being a Muslim Bangladeshi area). She replied she didn’t know, only that Brick Lane was ‘cool’. That’s the transformation: an inner city area, home to one of the largest Bangladeshi communities outside Bangladesh, and one of the poorest in the UK – now transformed into somewhere that is ‘cool’.

We were there to see a performance of ‘Debdas’ (‘Devdas’) in a new stage adaptation by Farrukh Dhondy (former commissioning editor for Channel 4’s multicultural programmes). Based on the original 1917 story by Sharat Chandra Chattopadhay, it is the latest in a long line of film and theatre adaptations – probably the best known version in the West is the 2002 film, starring Shah Rukh Khan, Aishwarya Rai and Madhuri Dixit.

In the original plot, Devdas is from a wealthy Brahmin family who lives next door to Paro in a village in Bengal, a childhood friend from a not so wealthy family. Devdas returns from studying in Calcutta (Kolkata) to find Paro transformed from a girl into a young woman. Love blossoms between them but ideas of marriage are disapproved of by the respective families and Paro is instead married off to an older man, a widower with three children. Devdas runs away and starts to drink heavily, forming a relationship with Chandramukhi, a prostitute. But he never forgets Paro and the story ends with his attempting reunion with Paro when he realises he is dying. But it was not to be and he dies on her doorstep, their lifelong love unrequited. A familiar tale of love versus family duty, the bedrock of older Indian films.

Dhondy’s adaptation takes the backdrop out of 1900s Bengal and into the 60s cultural revolution of flower power, sex, drugs and roll ‘n’ roll. Instead of Hindu West Bengal, the Bengali location is Dhaka in Muslim Bangladesh with Paro, a medical student. Debdas is (wrongly) told by one of the servants that Paro is pregnant by another man. He runs away – to London this time in the midst of the 60s revolution where he forms a relationship with a white English woman, Chloe – a singer immersed in the decadent 60s culture. Years of alcohol and drugs take their toll and Debdas ends up seriously ill in hospital, close to death. Paro, in the meantime, had been married off to an older man but had continued her studies and qualified as a doctor. Her older husband now dead she comes to London for further training, now with 2 children from her marriage. She seeks out Debdas, dying in his hospital bed but a confrontation between Chloe and Paro leads to Chloe pulling out a gun and threatening to kill Paro. The two women, however, reconcile and embrace each other towards the end with the love between Debdas and Paro destined to be unfulfilled.

The audience was relatively small – probably not more than 100 people – in a small theatre venue that reminded me very much of student theatres, or small art house venues. I couldn’t quite gauge the ethnic / age mix – probably around 50/50 Asian / white with mostly a younger audience – some obviously supporters and friends of the actors or musicians.

The stage set up was simple with very few props. The acting was strong, though, which carried the story, accompanied by Bengali music from Amrit Kaur on the Sarangi, an Indian stringed instrument, and vocals from Tanusree Guha. It was also good to see the same Bengali culture encompassing both West Bengal and Bangladesh, with the shift in setting – a reminder of how much much is shared whether Hindu or Muslim Bengali.

The contemporary adaptation was interesting but I found myself slightly frustrated at the continuation of ethnic stereotypes: Chloe portrayed as the immoral white western woman, corrupting Debdas with sex and drugs while Paro the dutiful Bengali daughter – brought up to date as the stereotypical medical student. Can we not now get beyond these? Strong, educated, focused and even dutiful white women do exist in the West, and surely ideas about possible careers for Asian men and women can now broaden beyond medicine, dentistry and pharmacy. Even in the film, it was not Chandramukti (the prostitute or more quaint ‘courtesan’) who corrupted Devdas, but instead his male friend – giving Chloe a corrupting influence beyond the original story.

Susen confessed to being slightly shocked when Debdas and Paro actually kissed (or acted kissing) on stage [never seen in the Bollywood film version]. We both thought the plot was going to take a thoroughly modern twist when Chloe and Paro embraced each other towards the end. Chloe went to kiss Paro on the cheek and I really thought we were going to see our first lesbian kiss and relationship in this version of Debdas. But no, it was just a friend’s hug. We were, after all still in the 60s – which, for all its hippy LSD-fuelled cultural revolution, was still resolutely homophobic, racist and sexist.

Still, really good to see such a low budget adaptation of an Indian classic to counter the big budget Bollywood versions. I’ve a feeling I might be re-visiting my old East End haunts quite a bit more in future.

Caste Discrimination in the UK

Last week the Times of India reported that an upper caste (Jat) youth from Mokhra village, Haryana, had been fined Rs 51,000 by the village panchayat (council) for having an affair with a Dalit girl and bringing her to the village without the permission of the panchayat. As well as being fined, he had to leave the village for six months for ‘violating the social norm’. The girl (or more accurately 18 year old young woman) was apparently sent to her maternal uncle’s house in another village.

Reports regularly appear in the Indian press of other incidents and crimes involving caste. For example on 24 March this year it was reported that 3 upper-caste youths were arrested in Rohtak, Haryana for allegedly gang-raping a Dalit girl – just one example of many cases where Dalits are subjected to violence, rape and murder.

The term ‘Dalit’ refers to those formerly known as ‘Untouchable’ in India – also referred to as ‘Scheduled Caste’ and ‘Scheduled Tribes’ by the Indian government. They are at the bottom of the caste system, or rather outside the caste system and form the lowest rank of Indian society, often doing the most menial work and discriminated against in all aspects of their lives. Dalits make up around 16% of the Indian population, although this varies from state to state.

The Indian Constitution outlawed discrimination based on caste, though not the caste system itself, which still pervades Indian society, despite legislation protecting the Dalits or Scheduled Castes. Although the caste system is strongly linked to the Hindu religion, it is present across many other religious communities: Muslim, Buddhist, Sikh and Christian. Many of the ‘ex-Untouchables’ converted to other religions to escape the stigma of caste. In Uttar Pradash, for example, an estimated 70% of Buddhists are of Dalit origin, while 6% of the population in Maharashtra are Buddhist. Maharashtra has been the centre of a Buddhist revival in India in recent years, following the example of Dr Ambedkar (India’s first law minister, himself a Dalit) who publically converted to Buddhism in 1956 along with thousands of his supporters. An estimated 70% of Indian Christians are also from a Dalit background – which is problematic in itself because, while still suffering disadvantage, Dalit Christians and Muslims in India currently do not have protection under Scheduled Caste legislation (despite the inclusion of Dalit Sikhs and Buddhists).

What is less well known, however, is the existence of caste discrimination here in the UK. The issue came to the fore during the passage of the (now) Equality Act 2010 (EA 2010) through Parliament. Campaigners argued that there needed to be separate legislation to outlaw discrimination based on caste in addition to the other protected characteristics (such as sex, race, religion and belief etc.) in relation to work, education and provision of goods and services. S.9 (5) of the EA 2010 already provided for the possibility of inclusion of caste as an aspect of race but opinion was divided as to whether race, religion or belief would already cover any caste discrimination. The government had resisted its inclusion but instead favoured an education programme approach rather than legislation.

Research was commissioned by the Government Equalities Office to look into how widespread caste discrimination was in the UK and the findings were published in December 2010 (1) . The actual number of people in the UK from Dalit origin is not known, but estimated to be around 150,000-200,000 (2) (some say as high as 480,000 (3)) - from all religions, concentrated among people with roots in the Indian sub-continent. The report showed caste discrimination to be widespread in the UK across all sectors: work, education and provision of services. It was reported to be by ‘higher’ castes against the ‘lowest’ caste, and while nowhere near the level of brutality seen in India, still had many detrimental effects including reduced career prospects, depression, loss of self-esteem and reduced access to education.

One man, Prithi Kaeley, interviewed by BBC Newsnight talked movingly of his experience in the UK. He said he came to the UK in 1976 after serving in the Indian army for 8 years in the Punjab. He worked as a manager in the public sector. After 25 years of working there, someone came to work in his office who was ‘so-called upper caste’ – who began telling everyone that Mr Kaeley couldn’t be his manager as he was ‘untouchable’. He said he didn’t know how to react, but was totally shocked that this should be happening in Britain – he had never expected it here. Clearly, he was still very affected by what had happened and could hardly talk about it on camera, he was so upset (video of the interview is accessible here).

Other examples given in the report included a 16 year old who had been bullied at school and lost many friends after they found out she was not of higher caste, as they had assumed. Another talked about his manager at work making caste-related ‘jokes’ to him, telling him to go and wash clothes instead as back in India he would be a professional clothes washer. Evidence is very mixed about whether caste consciousness is decreasing in the UK among subsequent generations, with some saying it is even increasing (for example ‘Jatt pride’ among Sikhs).

Earlier this year, an employment tribunal heard the first claim alleging unfair dismissal on the grounds of caste discrimination. Vijay and Amardeep Begraj claimed they suffered discrimination, humiliation, victimisation and harassment on the basis of caste while working at Heer Manak, a firm of solicitors in Coventry. Vijay was the practice manager there and Amardeep, his wife, a solicitor at the same firm. Vijay Begraj was from a Dalit background, whereas Amardeep from the higher Jat caste. Vijay Begraj claimed a colleague told him he was lucky to be a practice manager in the UK as in India he would have been a cleaner because of his caste. Unfortunately, after a lengthy hearing, the case collapsed on a technicality after the judge recused herself from the case (excused due to a possible conflict of interest) – so the case was not concluded. It is doubtful though whether a discrimination case based on caste could have succeeded anyway under existing race and equality legislation as caste was not at the time specifically included as an aspect of race. In another employment tribunal case, Naveed v Aslam (2012), Mr Naveed had claimed ridicule and abuse (amongst other claims) on the basis of his Arain Pakistani caste. One of the reasons the tribunal gave for dismissing his claim was that caste was not yet included as an aspect of race under the existing Equality Act.

Despite widespread evidence of caste discrimination, however, the government was still favouring an education programme, despite the Lords voting for legal protection. Finally, on 23 April this year, after a second Lords vote to outlaw caste discrimination, the government backed down and did a U-turn. It was announced that in the future caste discrimination would be legally protected under the Equality Act 2010, as an aspect of race.

A small step in the right direction but much more to be done, to help the estimated 260 million people suffering caste discrimination worldwide. A reminder of Article 1 of the UN Declaration of Human Rights 1948:

All human beings are born free and equal in dignity and rights. They are endowed with reason and conscience and should act towards one another in a spirit of brotherhood.

Caste has no place in the UK or anywhere else in the world.

1. ‘Caste Discrimination and Harassment in the United Kingdom’. Hilary Metcalfe and Heather Rolfe, National Institute for Economic and Social Research. December 2010.
2. International Dalit Solidarity Network, July 2011
3. Bishop of Oxford, Lord Harris of Pentregarth, reported by BBC News 5/3/2013

Further links:

Dalit Solidarity Network UK - http://www.dsnuk.org

International Dalit Solidarity Network - http://www.idsn.org/

Caste Watch UK - http://www.castewatchuk.org/

Dalit Freedom Network UK- http://www.dfn.org.uk/

Quilon

I have had my head in books the last few weeks (even more so than usual), doing more exams. At my age! Thankfully they are now over and I can look once more beyond the revision and computer screen. As interesting as my studies were (and are), it’s so nice to have some time to catch up on everything else that has been put on hold. Like re-doing the plumbing under the sink where it was leaking, mending the bed frame that had broken and now thinking of tackling the overgrown garden. Yes my life is that exciting.

Still, to celebrate Susen took me out to lunch at Quilon near St James’s Park. The place is very much in Indian territory being in the Taj Group owned Crowne Plaza and presumably meant to appeal to the many Indian businessmen and women who stay at the hotel. The outside was suitably understated (just my style), although once inside I did feel slightly under-dressed in my jeans compared to most of the other be-suited lunchtime diners. The receptionist did look us up and down as if to ask, "Are you sure you're in the right place?", but once we were through that hurdle the service was high quality. As a complete aside, I do envy the modern Indian woman who has the choice of Western jeans and T-shirt / top, salwar kameez, kurta top and jeans / leggings or, if you really push the boat out, a sari. No such choice for us UK women.

Quilon is a cut (or three) above your average up-market Indian restaurant. It serves South West Indian cuisine and is Michelin starred. The head chef Sriram Aylur apparently gave up his law studies to pursue his ‘first love’ of food (boy, how I can relate!). He was ranked one of the top five Chefs in India in 1997.

We had the set lunch menu (£24.00 for 3 courses and coffee – which actually felt like quite a bargain). For starters, I had the lotus stem and colocasia chop with mango and mint sauce. Susen had the coconut cream chicken. Asked if we wanted to share them – which we did – they arrived half and half on each of our plates, a first for us. Both starters were delicious, although possibly the chop was slightly lacking in flavour. Mini popadums and five different types of home-made chutney were complimentary, making a welcome change from the standard sized popadums and bought pickles usually served.

We then were given another complimentary ‘amuse bouche’ of a spicy tomato and lentil broth, served hot in a glass. For the main course, Susen had the Quilon fish curry made with beautifully cooked and spiced halibut. I had the vegetarian sampler – four different types of vegetables with lemon rice and paratha. Dishes on mine included crispy fried okra, a mildly spiced chick pea curry, mango curry and lightly spiced yoghurt dish which I think was like a pachadi.

For dessert Susen had the caramelised banana pudding with rum and raisin ice cream. I had bibinca with vanilla ice cream – a Goan speciality a bit like pancakes piled on top of each other with dark chocolate sauce, accompanied by South Indian coffee.
All dishes were excellent, service was attentive but discrete. Highly recommended.



Quilon, 41 Buckingham Gate, London SW1E 6AF.

Tel: 020 7821 1899

http://www.quilon.co.uk