Suburban Tasteland

Indian Style Gyro

Several weeks ago, I got into an electronic brawl on Chowhound when I had the audacity to disparage Bombay Club, an Indian restaurant in D.C. that is inexplicably popular:

Bombay Club is terrible. I ate there with several other people, and, therefore, was able to try a broad swath of their menu. Our conclusion is that Bombay Club is there for the expense account crowd, who want to treat their clients to something a little more exotic than a steakhouse. Perhaps its swanky British colonial ambience has fooled people into thinking that they're actually enjoying their meal there.

I was trying to be a little bit funny and a little bit controversial, but when people don’t know you personally, all that comes across is the jackassery. So, of course, I got slammed with all sorts of sarcastic remarks from people who have ludicrous message board handles.

My favorite “burn” was from some chap named “Bonz” who tag-teamed with his colleague “Pappy” to show me up for the fool that I apparently am:

I totally agree: that British colonial ambience is so swanky, it even fooled some of my Indian friends into having their wedding reception there. Unlike you, Pappy, I had it all figured out from the start. Boy did I laugh as three generations of this large South Asian family, as well as 75 of their Indian guests, foolishly thought they were actually enjoying their meal there!

I expanded upon my earlier remarks in a subsequent post just to explain more precisely what I found underwhelming about Bombay Club, and, hoping to establish some Indian food bona fides, offered up Bombay Curry Company in Alexandria as an example of excellence. That prompted a more thoughtful response from someone else, though that particular poster still remarked:

The Bombay CC is good for everyday curry, but I don't know about wonderful. It's not breaking any boundaries that aren't covered everywhere else. Maybe you mean wonderful value.

At this point, I didn’t want to initiate another verbal donnybrook, so I decided to let that statement go unchallenged.

But lest there be any confusion, I think Bombay Curry Company easily ranks among my top five favorite Indian restaurants of all time. And I say that after having spent nine years in New York where I sampled curries and kebabs from the shabbiest kwik-e-mart cab stands to the latest restaurant finds in the South Asian epicenter that is Jackson Heights.

And owner Balraj Bhasin somehow finds the time to be fairly active in the D.C. food message board and blog community even though he owns two restaurants. Indeed, though I have absolutely no idea how he stumbled upon our site, Bhasin was kind enough to post a comment offering another spicy Indian soda recommendation in response to my post about Duke’s Masala Soda.

True, Bombay Curry Company may not be “breaking any boundaries,” but they take a comparatively short and simple menu and make every dish sing. We love Bombay Curry Company’s butter chicken, shammi kebab, and chicken kadai. And my mornings at work fly by whenever I have some of their leftover vegetable biryani awaiting my lunchtime assault.

But respect is due for one menu item, in particular, that I haven’t seen pop up too often on other Indian restaurants’ menus: Pathar Kebab.



In a post on Don Rockwell’s message board, Bhasin described Pathar Kebab as follows:

Pathar Kabab is a pounded lamb scallopine marinated and flash grilled on the griddle. Traditionally the shepherds cooked it on the hot stones around their campfire.

The first time I tried it several years ago, I was admittedly underwhelmed. But they have since taken an intriguing, though formerly underachieving menu item, and transformed it into one of the most respectful treatments of lamb that I’ve ever had.

The lamb is flattened and thickly marinated with spicing. The ends of each piece are nicely charred, and the contours of the meat slightly dip toward the center of each piece, pooling the juices, and presenting an appealing glisten of meaty essence. The dish is accompanied by nan still piping hot from the oven, and I like to add a side of their refreshing raita (tangy homemade yogurt with cucumber) to create my own Indian style gyro.

The Pathar Kebab can easily be shared by two people along with two or three sides of vegetables.

Check out the Pathar Kebab at Bombay Curry Company:

3110 Mount Vernon Avenue
Alexandria, VA
(703) 836-6363

—AC

The Holy Grail of Beveraging

This past weekend, I conducted a solo scouting mission through a broad swath of Alexandria and Annandale. I walked off with quite a haul: from Korean/French baked treats to Peruvian ice creams to South Asian sweets. But the most ground-breaking find amongst my trove turned out to be an Indian soda.

I stopped in at Shivam Music & Spices at Seoul Plaza, hoping that they might have a few scuffed and dusty bottles of Indian soda tucked away in the back. Sure enough, after walking past shelves stacked high with Bollywood DVDs and Bhangra cassettes, I saw a cluster of sodas peeking out from the lower shelves of their refrigerator.

I’ve had Thums Up previously, but the logo and its accompanying misspelling are just so eye-popping, I couldn’t resist buying it again. Though I remember the flavor as being similar to Mexican Coke, Thums Up actually has a much drier, more bitter taste than most colas. And it has a great deal more carbonation than Coke. Indeed, the Thums Up website implores the consumer to “Taste the Thunder!” and touts its “confident, mature, and uniquely masculine attitude.” I suspect some of that “thunder” may be from a little extra caffeination, as I’m feeling an amount of pep somewhat greater than Coca-Cola but somewhat less than Jolt. According to Wikipedia, Thums Up was originally introduced in India in 1977 to replace Coca-Cola’s withdrawal from the Indian market, but was ultimately acquired by the Coca-Cola Company in 1993.

But this unassuming bottle of Duke’s turned out to be my beveraging Holy Grail. At first glance, Duke’s looks like it wouldn’t be out of place idling in the cooler at an Esso station in 1964. In fact, I wasn’t even sure that it was necessarily of Indian provenance. And its light amber contents made me think it was probably a ginger ale. But once I was able to scrutinize it more closely, I discovered that the bottlecap read “Duke’s Masala Soda.” Very promising. As soon as I pried the bottlecap off, I discovered that they really did mean “masala”, as in the  mix of spices commonly used in Indian food. In fact, the spicing was so powerful that AK started coughing from just a whiff, and I nearly sneezed when I passed it under my nose. The only other soda to have provoked that sort of physical reaction is Blenheim's Hot Hot Ginger Ale.

It seems like they added the masala flavoring over a base of very weak ginger ale. But somehow Duke's Masala Soda works. You may not like it, but it’s unusual enough that you’ll likely finish the whole bottle before deciding how you feel about it. I think it’s one of the exotic beveraging greats- up there with Jarritos Jamaica and Sangria Senorial. And oddly enough, further scrutinization of the bottle cap has revealed that Duke’s Masala Soda is a Pepsico product. I’m assuming that, like Coca-Cola’s acquisition of Thums Up, Duke’s must have been a homegrown Indian company that was later acquired by Pepsico.

I also couldn’t pass up scoring this box of “Psyllium Husk!” The Art Deco style packaging looks like it hasn’t changed since its introduction 65 years ago. And you’ve gotta love the inexplicable antique telephone logo for a product that is essentially India’s answer to Metamucil: dried seed husks that apparently alleviate constipation when “taken accordingly to need with a glass of water, syrup, milk, fruit juice or salted curd or lassi.”

But the best part about the packaging is that the factory that churns this stuff out is apparently a selling point. How else to explain the fact that The Sidphur Sat-Isabgol Factory is listed in a font that’s only slightly less prominent than the name of the product itself, and the background features a row of factory buildings and two smokestacks offering evidence of the industry within. Though I haven’t yet required the services of the psyllium husks, rest assured that if I ever do, I’ll be taking it accordingly with salted curd.

Check out Shivam Music & Spices to score your own bottle of Duke's Masala Soda at:
4231-C Markham St.,
Annandale, VA
(703) 916-8616

—AC