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| Sunday, 10 April 2005 |
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Student life in an alien world : Masala mix up by Jeevani Mantotta At the time when I started university people in England still had a tendency to think that Sri Lanka was just an extension of India. (Now, with the reestablishment of Sri Lanka as a tourist destination this is changing). Along with this assumption came the idea that being from a curry eating country, I would be able to read the menu in an Indian restaurant and derive some deeper understanding of the dishes than my English friends.
"What?" I asked. "Well, what do you recommend?" "Er? I don't know. I've never been to an Indian restaurant before." This led to some consternation. "Oh, right. Sure. You'll have just eaten this stuff at home." "Well, no. I'm Sri Lankan. This doesn't really mean much to me. The English translations are quite helpful though." Puzzled faces all round. Then I revealed that I didn't much like chillies or lime pickle and everyone stared at me trying to work out whether I was joking. This was followed by hearty recommendations that I try the vindaloo. Soon afterwards my friend, who distrusted foreign food in general (including Italian or Chinese food, bless him), ordered egg and chips, and everyone forgot all about me and started teasing him instead. I was quite annoyed by the whole episode until I realised that I had assumed that all English people could handle nothing but the blandest of food, and was just as guilty of stereotyping as they were. A few years ago someone did a survey and declared that Britain's favourite takeaway dish was no longer fish and chips, but Chicken Tikka masala and that the country's favourite Boxing Day meal was turkey curry. Some offices even traditionally? take Christmas lunch in a curry house, with no trace of irony whatsoever. Curry is a favourite meal among students in England. It is relatively cheap and filling and most curry houses let you bring your own drink (much cheaper). In most towns, going out for beer and curry is a common Friday night occurrence. Trying to eat the hottest thing on the menu (usually the vindaloo) is a standard test of machismo among some (usually drunk) men. As a result, a lot of people have galvanised gullets that can handle more chilli than you'd think. Even those who can't brave the chillies, like their spices. Now, after years of being a student in England, I know my way round an Anglicised Indian menu. I even occasionally eat vindaloo. But I still think the spice and oil heavy curries served in Indian restaurants are no match for the humble roti and pol sambol. |
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The first time I'd ever had Indian food (which is usually what is meant
by, a curry, in the British vocabulary) was when I tagged along for a boat
club curry night. The menu was full of words totally alien to me, Tikka,
Madras, Pathia, Balti (I found out later that menus are incomprehensible
to people from India too. Balti, for example, means bucket). I looked up
to find everyone looking expectantly at me. 
