Those with difficult birth often learn the ropes quicker than others. [The statement might as well make a good end to my account!] #uncookedwords
To see how well is Surajit’s difficult baby ‘Ekdalia Road’ reared in a land so proudly unkind to middlings, I paid a discreet visit. Tucked away in a lane that only good sleuths find, it took us hours to see the chef’s face smiling from behind a glass door. That was deliciously welcoming. So was the scrumptious starter featuring thinly crumbed medallions plumped with juicy fillets of herbed chicken; with a zesty blob of carrot, pumpkin and parsley served on side. They meshed as friendly cogs united after years. Impressed and spurred, I sent for more.
My memories are made of meals – both good and bad. And, I grew wiser [and pickier] watching cooks doggedly sweat over getting foods up to snuff. Red Snapper is pink and endowed with a note unmistakably akin to Bhetki. I wondered what exactly could fail the versatile Fish in Lemon Tartar sauce - made of unskinned [I repeat, unskinned] fillets grilled and dressed in a tart juice rendered pointlessly unique with signature spritz of Gondhoraj. Possibly the cook preferred risking Taste to Cost - regardless of the scale of disgust jiggly ‘unsevered’ belly-fats could let off. Unacceptable. Chef, take note and cut the fat. Red Herrings fail on me.
The bests of food are unapologetically vicious. However, the flavorous Rice, tossed with choicest herbs, did manage to remain both delicious and guiltless – and, in a way, reassuring to carry on with eating. Surajit surprises his regulars with house-sauces as notoriously as Holmes would with his unsolicited deductions. Juicy chicken soaked in a marquee Mushroom sauce tasted how it ought to – adequately redeeming and remarkably tasty. SSS [Sour, Sweet and Spicy] was the sauce that promised, by fusing dissenting notes, to turn the mundane to magical. Its pairing with pork could only be the stuff of Intrigue. But the hog failed – not the worst I’d eaten but close, by being TOO prosperous, or fatty, to please. I know some fats are appetizing. But not in the hogs I fancy. Strangely that my son ate had fine meat carrying an agreeable mix of fat and lean. So, should I quixotically treat my lot as one-off? Would Surajit ever let consistency be an old chestnut or cooking pale into an act as random as an orangutan drawing Guernica?
Appetite compels food-writing and killing one may end the other too. But, I’ll keep eating, come rain or shine, and words will follow. My wishes are with Ekdalia Road. Hopefully the mixed bag of this time will have turned into one of wonders the next time I drop into Surojit’s lair.
But, how is bad-food minded as resolutely as good-food forgotten?
