Emily Eats India

Not that my globetrots are planned around my "epicurious" nature, but cuisine does seem to explain my inexplicable pull towards India. India has always been a brightly colored land I've been itching to visit. Crowded streets smoking with the curling steam of chai masala seems too good to pass up for someone completely lured in by food, culture, history and architecture. Though there are several countries on my "to visit" list, India always seem to find its way to the top five. So, when the chance to explore the alleyways of Delhi and the painted facades of Jaipur, I took it (obviously). The trip to India came via an invitation to a friend of a friend's wedding in Chandigarh, however the whole experience was a captivating slew of days that I doubt will come again in this lifetime. The sites and sounds and stories of the trip as a whole can be found on another post or two, but today's offering is all about the tastes.

 

Eating primarily Italian, Mexican, Chinese and French growing up, Indian food had an addictive introduction in college. With flavors and textures so uniquely different from what I'd been used to, Indian food quickly grew to be a favorite cuisine. The lovely Ms. C and I would haunt a fabulous little place in Provo, under the reservation of "Mr. Batman", mostly because  hearing "table for Mr. Batman" with a prominent Punjabi accent would put anyone in a fit of giggles. Ah, though college had provided an admirable introduction to Indian food, I don't think I was fitfully prepared for the real deal. Channa masala and dal tadka quickly soared to my favorite go to dishes. The creamy and spicy sauces swirled with roti or naan then chased down with a mango lassi seemed to be the stuff dreams were made of. I wholeheartedly dedicated my time in India to tasting anything and everything, mostly with rather pleasant results. I say mostly pleasant because a roadside stand owner did convince me to taste these metallic covered cardamom seeds and it took several sticks of gum, a good douse of water, and an hour or two to get the soapy, metallic, and oddly floral taste out of my mouth. You win some, you lose some I suppose. 

Proper mealtimes were always rather structured, wandering down to the first floor of a hotel for breakfast to mispronounce an order of parantha and dosa and inhaling a late lunch of curries and paneer stuffed naan. However, once arriving in Delhi, the street food was calling my name. I had cultivated quite the food list of items to try on my trip to India, and Delhi was marked as the place to get momos and kulfi off the street. The Chinese style dumplings were an easily delicious find and the quest for kulfi made for quite the adventure. After awkwardly navigating the ordering procedure and confused as to why the dense ice cream broken into bits to be doused with a sweet and creamy sauce, then showered with limp noodles, I was able to cross kulfi off my list...with mixed results. The oddly chewy frozen texture was a bit off putting, while the noodles took the "completely baffling" category by storm. Not something I thought I would have again, though I did break that mental agreement later in the trip. As a head's up, order the kulfi sans noodles; the texture of the kulfi is enough to keep your mouth occupied. 


Snacks were always discovered by serendipitous happenstance; warmed-by-the-sun lime orange juice outside of Raj Ghat, or a spicy bag of Lays Masala chips at a roadside stand, or the sickeningly sweet Panchi provoked after seeing advertisements plastered on every street corner. Snacks were a fun adventure, but it really was those curries and dals that I came to crave.

I've already delved into research of how to make such dishes in my own little kitchen, and although I did by best to pick up cooking tips and spices while here, I do think part of the appeal of Indian food is the India part....though I doubt that will stop me from making (and eating) my favorites when back in Salt Lake.