Ramblings of a foodie...
I was reading the blog of a friend of mine where she describes various places in Cape Town where you can find Halaal food. And I thought to myself why not present the culinary delights of Fordsburg in the same vein. So I decided to take the liberty of describing my experience with a restaurant, which shall remain anonymous, to protect the innocent people involved.
Sunday afternoon, I decided that I would try some food from the Mecca of Indian foods in Johannesburg, Fordsburg. Driving from my house, which is located in an upper middle class area, one cannot fail to notice the change in scenery as you approach Fordsburg. An area that has always been part of the Indian community for as long as I can remember. Traditionally the South African Indian community was not one that ate out. This has changed in recent years, and the stores that once were the main attraction of the area, have now been replaced by a plethora of restaurants selling Indian cuisine. This change was triggered of by the change in government and an influx of foreigners from the Indian sub continent.
The first challenge, of course, is to find a suitable parking spot. One that is not only close enough to the restaurant, but also ensures that you will not need a can opener to get out or be at the mercy of someone who has inadvertently parked you in. Walking to the entrance, one is confronted by a crowd of people waiting for there turn at the tables, a good sign, or so I assume. I wade through the crowd, who reluctantly step aside for fear of me skipping the queue, and finally enter through the door. The sumptuous smell of spices fill my senses and I clamber to the counter, which is strewn with the orders of the people seated at the tables, and those like me, who want take outs. I scan the menu, make my choices and order the food. A feast.
A significant period of time passes, before the head waiter esquires what I am waiting for. All through this time, a number of tables have been recycled and new patrons have taken their seats and are busy scanning the menu. My food finally arrives, neatly tied up in a blue plastic bag. Mutton curry, mince curry and some okra curry. I gather my food, and rush home. All the while the aromatic smell of cooked spices assault my senses and causes me to salivate.
At home, I unpack the contents of the plastic bag and remove three large polystyrene containers containing the dishes I had ordered, and two smaller containers that contain a spiced yogurt mixture. In great anticipation I remove the lids of the food and I am caught by surprise. My food has been steeped in so much oil, that I am sure that they decided to preserve the food in the container, just in case my journey back home extended over a few days.
Ladling the oil from the container, the contents have been reduced by half. The only dish I am unsuccessful with is the mince and I resort to fishing out the ground meat, and squeezing out the oil before eating. I must admit, that I had to strongly resist the temptation to haul out my fishing gear and fish out the curry which I was so looking forward to enjoy.
After a couple of morsels I finally relent and consign the food to its plastic bag ready to pass on to someone who is in need of a meal. At this point, a Big Mac seemed pretty inviting :-)
Sunday afternoon, I decided that I would try some food from the Mecca of Indian foods in Johannesburg, Fordsburg. Driving from my house, which is located in an upper middle class area, one cannot fail to notice the change in scenery as you approach Fordsburg. An area that has always been part of the Indian community for as long as I can remember. Traditionally the South African Indian community was not one that ate out. This has changed in recent years, and the stores that once were the main attraction of the area, have now been replaced by a plethora of restaurants selling Indian cuisine. This change was triggered of by the change in government and an influx of foreigners from the Indian sub continent.
The first challenge, of course, is to find a suitable parking spot. One that is not only close enough to the restaurant, but also ensures that you will not need a can opener to get out or be at the mercy of someone who has inadvertently parked you in. Walking to the entrance, one is confronted by a crowd of people waiting for there turn at the tables, a good sign, or so I assume. I wade through the crowd, who reluctantly step aside for fear of me skipping the queue, and finally enter through the door. The sumptuous smell of spices fill my senses and I clamber to the counter, which is strewn with the orders of the people seated at the tables, and those like me, who want take outs. I scan the menu, make my choices and order the food. A feast.
A significant period of time passes, before the head waiter esquires what I am waiting for. All through this time, a number of tables have been recycled and new patrons have taken their seats and are busy scanning the menu. My food finally arrives, neatly tied up in a blue plastic bag. Mutton curry, mince curry and some okra curry. I gather my food, and rush home. All the while the aromatic smell of cooked spices assault my senses and causes me to salivate.
At home, I unpack the contents of the plastic bag and remove three large polystyrene containers containing the dishes I had ordered, and two smaller containers that contain a spiced yogurt mixture. In great anticipation I remove the lids of the food and I am caught by surprise. My food has been steeped in so much oil, that I am sure that they decided to preserve the food in the container, just in case my journey back home extended over a few days.
Ladling the oil from the container, the contents have been reduced by half. The only dish I am unsuccessful with is the mince and I resort to fishing out the ground meat, and squeezing out the oil before eating. I must admit, that I had to strongly resist the temptation to haul out my fishing gear and fish out the curry which I was so looking forward to enjoy.
After a couple of morsels I finally relent and consign the food to its plastic bag ready to pass on to someone who is in need of a meal. At this point, a Big Mac seemed pretty inviting :-)
The trick to a good meal is to have as little expectation as possible. That way you can only be pleasantly surprised when it turns out the way it's supposed to.
ReplyDeleteits places like these that give Indian food a really bad name.
ReplyDeleteAfter all that grease and oil you are still alive to tell the tale, or is this your twin blogging?
ReplyDelete