NORTHERN PLANNER

If there is a national meal in the UK these days, it’s a good curry. And believe me, no one likes it more than I, indeed when we go out with friends for an Indian, I’ll make sure I’m sat next to the person that eats like a bird so I can pinch some of theirs.

But I’ve always wondered why someone doesn’t make more of the true culture around food from the subcontinent, as opposed to the British, and largely unauthentic way it’s made, served and portayed here.

You can’t blame those first restaurant owners back in the 1970’s if course. They couldn’t get the right ingredients then, and they had to find something to accomodate the virgin British palate. And foodie culture didn’t really exist. It’s a bit different now.

These days you can’t move for chefs’ cookbooks. More and more people cook with chilli and every other spice you can think of. Not to mention the sheer complication of it all – be healthy, be natural, be organic, be ethical. And authenticity really matters. Some people I know would die of shame if they were found to have balsamic vinegar that wasn’t from Modena (dear oh dear). And somehow you have to fit all this into your ever busy life.

And actually, proper Indian cooking fits, since there’s no such thing. It’s too rich for that.

There is no such thing as real Indian cooking, it’s too complex, too geographical. What you eat depends on caste and region. And it’s steeped in a rich history. It was mostly vegetarian before invasions from Persia, The Mughul Empire and others introduced meat. And the recipes have constantly evolved.

Some things that have remained constant are the way food has always been integral with the culture. Apart from the festivals, the family meal is usually a three course affair, attended by all. Recipes are handed down the generations, learned by osmosis. They are rarely written down. One the main ingredients of a samosa is laughter. You can taste the love and joy in every single bite of the proper stuff.

And it’s light and healthy too. The restaurants have to use lots of oil to keep the vats of sauce relatively fresh over a long night. When it’s done properly, it’s light on the stomach, the spices are subtly put ‘under’ the taste, as opposed to throwing them in at the last minute. And traditions matter, you don’t mess with the old ways. And in the end, it’s always been about quality ingredients first and foremost. And Mum knows best.

Even ready meals are nothing new. Back in Bombay, the Tiffin Wallahs do an early morning round and pick up the food the women have been lovingly preparing. They put them in ‘Tiffin boxes’ and bike them all over the city so the men have proper food for lunch. And for every six million that get collected, only one meal fails to get delivered.

I’m going on, but it’s just that all these threads ad up to something that should fit very well with a food culture that’s increasingly looking for authenticity, health and aching to tap into rich, authentic traditions. Food with a proper story.

And it tastes amazing too. I don’t know where to go this, just thinking out loud.