Oct. 24th, 2008 10:32 pm
At long last, a dinner on Devon
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
muckefuckGiven where my head is at these days, it should come as no surprise that when ![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
monshu asked me, "Where do you want to eat out tonight?" I said "Little India!" It's astonishing to me that we've been living up here for two months already without venturing west of Hoyne even once.
I'm happy to say that's now been rectified. We thought we'd try something new, so we road the bus west a little past our usual haunts and then began strolling back. Our interests were piqued by Uru-Swati, a new(ish--it's actually been around for over a year) vegetarian place at the corner of Talman. We were promised "North and South Indian" food by the sign outside and we weren't disappointed. The somewhat lackadaisical was charmingly at odds with the sleek modish interior. As we glanced at the mentions, the shuffling elderly waiter brought over a "translation" prepared by TimeOut magazine. We picked one dish we already knew--dahi vada (दही बड़ा)--and three that sounded interesting: pani puri (पानी पूरी), khaman dhokla (खमण ढोकळा), and vegetable upma (रवा उपमा).
As they arrived one-by-one,monshu pointed out, "It's like Indian tapas." Each was lovely in its own way, but if I had to pick one I'm most anxious to try again, it would be the dhokla. Although made of steamed ground chickpeas, these little golden loaves reminded me of very fluffy cornbread. The pani puri were a nice cold appetiser, and I quite liked the spices in the special dipping water. I wasn't sure what to expect from the upma; the description mentioned semolina (रवा) prominently, so I was expecting some kind of porridge, but it actually came in the form of a steaming hot loaf with a mixture of yoghurt and chili oil on the side. I might have liked it more if it were a little less spicy. (I ended up saucing it with the dahi from the vada.) After polishing these all off, I was still a bit hungry, so we ordered some paneer pakora (पनीर पकोड़ा) that were light, tasty, and not the least bit greasy. The real standout among the condiments was the imli chutney (इमली चटनी), which wasn't as sickly sweet (or as unnaturally red) as it is at most places. Instead of masala chai (मसाला चाय) or a mango lassi (आम की लस्सी), I went with the thandai (ठंडाई), which was pleasantly sweet and a bit rich without being overwhelming.
Sadly it was pouring by the time we left and crossed the street to Patel Brothers. We pushed our way passed the sheltering shoppers at the entrance and set out to find ingredients for pan de muertos and a red lentil soupmonshu wanted to make. We found rosewater, but no orange blossom water, and bargain-priced Spanish saffron. I also wanted to pick up pigeon peas for traditional English carlins, but of course forgot the Indian name. I was 90% certain it was तुवर toovar, but that wasn't enough for me to make a leap of faith and spend $4 on a bag of wrinkled seeds. Oh, well--not like I won't be back again soon enough!
monshu asked me, "Where do you want to eat out tonight?" I said "Little India!" It's astonishing to me that we've been living up here for two months already without venturing west of Hoyne even once.I'm happy to say that's now been rectified. We thought we'd try something new, so we road the bus west a little past our usual haunts and then began strolling back. Our interests were piqued by Uru-Swati, a new(ish--it's actually been around for over a year) vegetarian place at the corner of Talman. We were promised "North and South Indian" food by the sign outside and we weren't disappointed. The somewhat lackadaisical was charmingly at odds with the sleek modish interior. As we glanced at the mentions, the shuffling elderly waiter brought over a "translation" prepared by TimeOut magazine. We picked one dish we already knew--dahi vada (दही बड़ा)--and three that sounded interesting: pani puri (पानी पूरी), khaman dhokla (खमण ढोकळा), and vegetable upma (रवा उपमा).
As they arrived one-by-one,
monshu pointed out, "It's like Indian tapas." Each was lovely in its own way, but if I had to pick one I'm most anxious to try again, it would be the dhokla. Although made of steamed ground chickpeas, these little golden loaves reminded me of very fluffy cornbread. The pani puri were a nice cold appetiser, and I quite liked the spices in the special dipping water. I wasn't sure what to expect from the upma; the description mentioned semolina (रवा) prominently, so I was expecting some kind of porridge, but it actually came in the form of a steaming hot loaf with a mixture of yoghurt and chili oil on the side. I might have liked it more if it were a little less spicy. (I ended up saucing it with the dahi from the vada.) After polishing these all off, I was still a bit hungry, so we ordered some paneer pakora (पनीर पकोड़ा) that were light, tasty, and not the least bit greasy. The real standout among the condiments was the imli chutney (इमली चटनी), which wasn't as sickly sweet (or as unnaturally red) as it is at most places. Instead of masala chai (मसाला चाय) or a mango lassi (आम की लस्सी), I went with the thandai (ठंडाई), which was pleasantly sweet and a bit rich without being overwhelming.Sadly it was pouring by the time we left and crossed the street to Patel Brothers. We pushed our way passed the sheltering shoppers at the entrance and set out to find ingredients for pan de muertos and a red lentil soup
monshu wanted to make. We found rosewater, but no orange blossom water, and bargain-priced Spanish saffron. I also wanted to pick up pigeon peas for traditional English carlins, but of course forgot the Indian name. I was 90% certain it was तुवर toovar, but that wasn't enough for me to make a leap of faith and spend $4 on a bag of wrinkled seeds. Oh, well--not like I won't be back again soon enough!