Well, we are off again.
We flew up from Christchurch to Auckland last night, just to make sure we don't have a weather delay, and miss our flight to Hondalooloo.
Lucky we did, really. I'm sitting in the AKLI Koru Lounge, and it's either foggy outside, or they have installed frosted glass to the windows. There may have been landing issues.
Met up with a friend last night, and went to a very busy Indian restaurant on Sandringham Rd, called Paradise. It gets Sarah's seal of approval. She says its the only biryani she has tasted in NZ that deserves to be called biryani. Praise indeed. The only other place I've heard her compliment outside Bangladesh is a Bangladeshi restaurant in Sydney. Actually, its a branch of the same restaurant in Dhaka that she has set as her benchmark.
Benchmarks are an interesting thing. I know I've said this before, but the sort of people who read this have an attention span about the same as mine, so they will have forgotten it.
Being from a very sheltered white buy family in a very sheltered white boy part of New Zealand, I never tried Indian food till I met Sarah. All I remember is that my intestinal structure moved it on fairly quickly and fairly thoroughly. Actually, I never tasted Thai food till I met Sarah either. I warned you that I had a sheltered upbringing!!
Anyway, once my body had adjusted to the new sensations, I progressed slowly from Butter Chicken (the white man's training wheels) to Chicken Korma, to Tikka Masala. That's where I am now, after 15 years, and I have no desire to deviate if I don't need to.
The thing about benchmarks, is the thing you try first is the thing you measure all others against. I'm sure this is true of many things, but I'm only talking about food, thanks.
So, whenever we go to a new Indian restaurant (and we go to many), I will normally order the Chicken Tikka Masala, to see if it's better than my first. Oddly, it never has been.
Also oddly, curries at other restaurants usually bear no resemblance whatsoever to the benchmark. Being from the aforementioned sheltered upbringing, I expect everything to be as advertised. This also goes for the taste of food. You can be pretty sure that steak, eggs and chips are going to taste like steak, eggs and chips wherever you buy them. Anywhere in the world, actually.
But with Indian, or even with Thai food? Not so much.
The only similarity is the name, and hopefully what the meat is. Otherwise, they might as well just call it "curry number 42".
We flew up from Christchurch to Auckland last night, just to make sure we don't have a weather delay, and miss our flight to Hondalooloo.
Lucky we did, really. I'm sitting in the AKLI Koru Lounge, and it's either foggy outside, or they have installed frosted glass to the windows. There may have been landing issues.
Met up with a friend last night, and went to a very busy Indian restaurant on Sandringham Rd, called Paradise. It gets Sarah's seal of approval. She says its the only biryani she has tasted in NZ that deserves to be called biryani. Praise indeed. The only other place I've heard her compliment outside Bangladesh is a Bangladeshi restaurant in Sydney. Actually, its a branch of the same restaurant in Dhaka that she has set as her benchmark.
Benchmarks are an interesting thing. I know I've said this before, but the sort of people who read this have an attention span about the same as mine, so they will have forgotten it.
Being from a very sheltered white buy family in a very sheltered white boy part of New Zealand, I never tried Indian food till I met Sarah. All I remember is that my intestinal structure moved it on fairly quickly and fairly thoroughly. Actually, I never tasted Thai food till I met Sarah either. I warned you that I had a sheltered upbringing!!
Anyway, once my body had adjusted to the new sensations, I progressed slowly from Butter Chicken (the white man's training wheels) to Chicken Korma, to Tikka Masala. That's where I am now, after 15 years, and I have no desire to deviate if I don't need to.
The thing about benchmarks, is the thing you try first is the thing you measure all others against. I'm sure this is true of many things, but I'm only talking about food, thanks.
So, whenever we go to a new Indian restaurant (and we go to many), I will normally order the Chicken Tikka Masala, to see if it's better than my first. Oddly, it never has been.
Also oddly, curries at other restaurants usually bear no resemblance whatsoever to the benchmark. Being from the aforementioned sheltered upbringing, I expect everything to be as advertised. This also goes for the taste of food. You can be pretty sure that steak, eggs and chips are going to taste like steak, eggs and chips wherever you buy them. Anywhere in the world, actually.
But with Indian, or even with Thai food? Not so much.
The only similarity is the name, and hopefully what the meat is. Otherwise, they might as well just call it "curry number 42".
No comments:
Post a Comment