Last month, a Washington Post humorist found himself in hot water when he described Indian cuisine as “based entirely on one spice.”
The piece by Gene Weingarten was headlined, “You can’t make me eat these foods” (its illustration depicted the writer as a bibbed toddler in a highchair), and detailed foods he finds funky — including Old Bay seasoning and anchovies.
When he got to Indian food, though, there was something of a record-scratch moment.
“If you like Indian curries, yay, you like Indian food!” he proclaimed, and social media exploded as Indians of all stripes — including a lot of famous ones — came out in force against what many called inaccurate and/or insulting.
Another zinger: “If you think Indian curries taste like something that could knock a vulture off a meat wagon, you do not like a lot of Indian food.”
Ouch.
“On behalf of 1.3 billion people,” tweeted Padma Lakshmi, author and host of Bravo’s “Top Chef” and Hulu’s “Taste of the Nation,” “kindly f**k off.”
Later, following an apology, the piece was updated to read, “If you like Indian curries, yay, you like one of India’s most popular class of dishes!”
Indian food is my youngest daughter’s most requested takeout. She laughed when I told her about the story. Mainly because even though it’s her favorite cuisine, she’s not big on sauces and so never orders curry.
In fact, I often forgo my beloved gosht or vindaloo so that she’ll sample whatever I order.
Vindaloo, by the way, with its Portuguese roots, is not entirely a curry, either, but all that super-yum gravy often sees it lumped into the mix.
“Our food is often stereotyped,” says Nora Jain, owner/manager of Tabla, with locations in both Winter Park and Orlando.
“I think it’s because the most popular dishes, like butter chicken or paneer makhani have gravies that people find similar. This is because they are good — everyone loves them — but I could name a hundred dishes right now that are different.”
I don’t have room for a hundred, but I’m happy to make a few suggestions — some common, some less so — for folks who think they don’t like Indian food simply because they’re curry-averse.
Samosa
Fried things = good. A concept that is literally thousands of years old. Samosas are ubiquitous on Indian restaurant menus — and popular (see aforementioned math). Outside: your basic flour pastry shell. Inside: an array of tender fillings. They’re commonly served with mint and/or tamarind chutney.
“It’s pretty much the national appetizer of India and loved all over the world,” says Jain. “The most common is peas and potatoes with Indian spices.”
That said, there are myriad varieties — as there are with most Indian dishes — because cultures within this nation are diverse. For example, keema samosa, made with minced meat.
“South Indian people use different spices than their neighbors up North. And on the Gujarat side, it’s a little different, too,” says Jain.
Pastry shells vary in thickness, as well.
“Every single state has their own way of doing things and hundreds of dishes all their own.”
Papdi Chaat
There is nothing I would love more than room in my calorie budget for fat pyramids of fried potatoes, but I generally order samosas for my kids. Put papdi chaat on the table, though, and I’m probably going to be in trouble. This layered dish — to the wholly unfamiliar, I’d compare its structure to nachos — has its base in papdi, crispy, delicious little crackers, often spiced.
“Chaat is the street food of India,” Jain explains. “It’s something you get when you go out shopping and you have it on the side of the street when you want to take a break… And everybody loves it.”
There are seemingly innumerable types of chaat.
“Papdi chaat, tikki chaat, raj kachori chaat… ” Jain rattles off. “Every state has a variation, but the concept is the same: crispy shells with diced potatoes, garbanzo beans — sometimes vada (a lentil dumpling) — all topped with yogurt, mint and tamarind chutney and spices on top.”
Saag Paneer
Creamed spinach isn’t for everyone, but I like it. Even the “boring” kind, when it’s done well — but I’d go for fragrant, spicy saag paneer over any of the steakhouse varieties, with its milky hunks of mild paneer (a delicious un-aged cheese similar in texture to Mexican queso blanco) and silky, creamy sauce.
It’s not the prettiest dish in the Indian-food panoply, but it is incredibly delicious.
“It’s quite difficult to make,” says Jain. “It must be cooked a long time to achieve the right level of creaminess.”
Gulab Jamun
“My favorite dessert!” says Jain.
At Tabla, they fry them fresh — lovely round balls of fried dough made from khoya (milk solids they boil down in-house) and a mixture of semolina and flour. Essentially an Indian doughnut, tossed in hot, sweet, floral syrup.
“Making them is an art,” Jain opines. “Back in India, there are vendors who have made gulab jamun for generations. They sell hundreds of thousands of them and it’s all they make because they are so good.”
Best served warm, gulab jamun are a sweet delight — though at Tabla, where you also can find chocolate samosa and sticky toffee pudding, you may find it tough to decide.
Dhokla
Many moons ago, a friend turned me on to one of my favorite Indian snacks: dhokla.
The spicy, savory cake — made from fermented lentil flour — is steamed, then bathed in a tadka, an oil in which spices have been bloomed. Topped with sauteed chilies and mustard seeds, it is addictive — and while you can find frozen varieties in the freezers at Indian markets, you’ll often find it fresh, as well.
Gita Patel, owner of the Indian Market grocery store in East Orlando, brings in homemade food every Friday and by day’s end, the foil trays — featuring dhokla and the most massive vegetarian samosas I have ever seen in my life among other things — are empty.
“Dhokra, my fave!” a friend texted back when I sent a pic of Patel’s treat packaged in Styrofoam.
You’ll often find multiple spellings for Indian foods. Sometimes even names. It was years before I learned that in Gujarat, this particular type of dhokla is called khaman.
“Outside of there, we don’t get that technical,” Jain says with a laugh. “It’s just dhokla.”
And just delicious.
If you go
Tabla Indian Cuisine: 5847 Grand National Drive in Orlando, 407-248-9400 or 216 N. Park Ave. in Winter Park, 321-422-0321; tablacuisine.com
Indian Market Grocery Store: 10018 University Blvd. in Orlando, 407-243-2424; indianmarketus.com
Find me on Facebook, Twitter or Instagram @amydroo or on the OSFoodie Instagram account @orlando.foodie or email me at amthompson@orlandosentinel.com.
