The 100th Curry

The curry-o-meter slipped into three digits last Saturday night, heralding a milestone few temporary visitors, I suspect, could achieve without as heart-strong a dedication as I have shown.

The road to the century was pot-holed with all sorts of character defining obstacles: garlic reflux, dinner sweats and an entire medical journal’s worth of humbling gastric complications. However I mustn’t dwell on the less edifying aspects as the experience has been as enriching as any. I believe only Indian cuisine - in its endless combination of flavours and styles - could possibly allow such an extravagant number of sittings in such a timeframe.

The actual 100^th curry was timed to coincide with the arrival of two friends from Australia – Debbie and Luke. We assembled a medley of colleagues and ex-pats within one of Delhi’s more authentic eateries. The curry itself was standard as curries go (some chicken arrangement, if I remember). Finishing the 100^th was met with jubilation.

Some highlights in reaching the 100^th…

Mughlai mutton – As with most Mughul foods, it’s lamb that’s usually cooked as a kebab, and is so tender and succulent you’ll want to conquer neighbouring countries just to get more of it.

Cardamom – While not strictly an ingredient spice in many curries, its presence in auxiliary offerings such as milkshakes and kulfi (non-diary ice-cream) is exotic and refreshing.

Methi Chicken – A take-away favourite. I don’t actually know what it comprises but it has a visually luminous quality that makes it quite appealing.

Biryani – Saffron infused rice, often with chunks of chicken, mutton or vegetables. Its downfall being that one will usually mow through a whole plate without looking up and then feel remorseful for not leaving enough room for other dishes, nor leaving enough biryani for other diners.

Garlic naan – pungent and powerful, and usually the demise of dieters, the garlic specie is the preferred bread of the naan family for the serious eater.

Buffalo milk – the liquid equivalent of smoking a Marlboro. Served steaming hot and left unsweetened in a terracotta mug, it makes one feel strong enough to wrestle anything to the ground. Real Men Drink Buffalo.

Kashmiri cuisine – when not shooting at one another, these northern folk do amazing things with dried fruits and coconut shavings.

…and some testing moments on the journey…

Chicken necks – Every so often one of these disgusting bird gullets worm their way into my food. I’ve no interest in the throats of any creature save for the one belonging to the smarmy chef who attempts to pass this off as food.

Curried pickles - Erroneously served as a garnish when it would better function as a bin-liner.

Street food – Nothing ostensibly wrong with it when adjudging against any taste parameter, but one does put their life in the unsanitary paws of the street-wallahs when braving this medium. Everyone promises not to eat from the street, everyone does, and everyone gets sick.

What I haven’t yet disclosed is the fact that this achievement could not have been done without the dedicated effort of an ever-present wingman. My time in India has witnessed much transience; ex-pat colleagues arrive and depart, staff are replaced and even loved ones are relegated to cameo parts. But there is one stalwart comrade who always keeps me company during the Odyssey – especially so on the road to the 100^th curry. A comrade who provides a sharp alkaline touch to stabilise the onslaught of ferocious Indian spice, a friend who stays behind to offer warmth long after the chai has cooled.

Ladies and gentlemen…

Interesting discoveries:

• Curries, as we know them, are referred to over here as ‘wet’ dishes, or ‘gravies’. The term ‘curry’ will often be appended to Thai curries.
• I’ve not had one hot curry. All are belligerently spicy, but none match the heat generated by some I’ve had back home. I believe this is because I’ve only really hung around the north, where the cuisine is not typically fiery. Infernos such as Vindaloo and Madras curries are native to southern India and as a consequence have not been suitably sampled by this writer.

Administrative facts:

• Curry-o-meter: 108 consumed.
• The curry-o-meter measures individual sittings when curry is present as part of the meal, not individual curries. Individual curry dishes consumed: probably close to 400. Before I’m nominated for any awards in gluttony, I’d like to point out that each serving is typically very small, and is designed to be shared.

Song of the moment:

Frontier Psychiatrist, by The Avalanches.