The namesake

The British love affair with Indian food has been going on longer than I thought. I thought the British found their curry buds - these have been scientifically proven to exist in all individuals who enjoy curry - during my parent's generation, but I was wrong. It was a generation before that. And curry is not just being enjoyed by masses of semi paraplegic drunken lads on tour. The Evening Standard, which is the jewel in the crown of the free press, found that 7 out of London's top 40 chefs (whatever that means) prefer to get an Indian takeaway on their days off. Heston Blumenthal, by his own admission, has been visiting an 'Indian' restaurant called Malik's, in Berkshire, most Mondays for over a decade. However, I do not share Mr. Blumenthal's, or any blooming Brit's, obsession with the 'Indian' food on offer in Britain. As far as I am concerned every single time I have gone to an 'Indian' restaurant in the UK, the food has never been Indian.

If you speak basic Hindi, have a vague idea of how a Bengali would speak Hindi and know that there is a massive Bengali speaking Bangladeshi population in the UK, then every time you see 'Aaloo Mutter' spelt 'Aaloo Moter' or 'Chicken Kadai' spelt 'Chicken Korai' you will know that you are in fact in a Bangladeshi restaurant. And this is almost always the case. In the case of the few that are not Bangladeshi it is pretty easy to spot that they are Pakistani. Because the Pakistanis will not even bother trying to be subtle about the identity theft. I went past a restaurant sign that read - "Lahore Grill, Indian Restaurant". This angered me, but let me assure you that I am not a food racist.

One of the beauties of food is that everyone can make it their own. You can keep what you like, get rid of what you don't, put in a whole lot of stuff that does not belong and still probably manage to pass it off as a version of the real thing. And you don't have to be native to a country to cook the country's food well. My local greasy spoon, which does the best all day breakfast in the vicinity is Italian. So Italian in fact that I have once felt the urge to order spaghetti meatballs for breakfast. A sushiya I went to for a very long time, and very often, was run by a bunch of Chinese and, just to drive the point home, my moules are better than any Frenchman's. Then why this venom when it comes to fellows of the subcontinent trying to cash in on the curry craze?

Upon reflection - yes, what used to be time spent day dreaming is increasing being spend reflecting on the state of things - my issue with 'Indian' food in the UK is that it is not Indian at all. Sure, it is a version of the real thing, but a version so unlike that it might as well be a cuisine in its own right. This is not a cuisine I find myself mad about. I have never walked out of a restaurant thinking I'd like to come back for some more. At the heart of the problem is the fact that no matter what you order you get the same slop with a few tweaks. This one time at an 'Indian' restaurant my Rogan Josh and a friends Balti were the exact same thing, the only difference being his came in a balti and mine had some fresh coriander as garnish (I don't think you would find coriander on a Rogan Josh in India). And that's what makes me angry. People deceiving the good public of this country as to what Indian food is.

But it's not all bad news. I think how 'Indian' food as evolved in this country is a testament to how people connect with food, even if foreign - not to mention a testament to great marketing. The Balti and the Tikka Masala aren't India, they are British, and I think they are pretty good, as British dishes of course. And viewed as British food, the sickeningly sweet Korma or the unnecessarily spicy Vindaloo start to make some sense. It's all in the name. So from this moment forth, speaketh of this as Indo-British food. Indian food is in a different league altogether.