Currying On

Happiness in the half loaf

So, I’ve been slack with the blog of late. Very slack, in fact. Blame it on the festive season which has been, well, very festive. What can I say? It’s my culture.

In any case, moving on and into this new year, I think we’ll start off with a little favourite topic of mine: curry. Since arriving in Cape Town I have, as a native Durbanite, sought out the finest curries in this new city at the low-hanging point of Africa. And, well, let’s just cut to the chase with it – I am frankly disappointed. What they call a curry here in the Mother City is a beast of a different stripe than that which I’ve come to know and love up on the East Coast. Sure, there are curry dens and restaurants which offer the ‘authentic’ experience, but on the whole, when talking of curry, Capetonians are referring to a defanged, watered-down and altogether milder dish. This of course is to be expected – the communities here which cater to the Eastern experience are themselves not the same as those which provide the flaming bowls of pure Scovillean fireworks further up the coast. Fair enough. But beyond this obvious influence, the mere understanding of terms such as ‘hot’ or ‘spicy’ are well out of whack. ‘Hot’ curry in Cape Town means mild. ‘Spicy’ means, well, the kind of bland your great-aunt would call ‘just right’. Attend a 40th birthday party where the host has some catered curry on the bain-marie and he’ll proudly announce to guests that they should ‘watch out – it’s very hot!’ with some pride. Said Capetownian guests then consume said dish with much circumspection, wide eyes and panting. The wife and I, we’ll be like ‘What is this – stew?’. I won’t begin to describe some of the lamentable ‘curries’ I’ve had in my lunchtime forays in the city. Suffice to say I’ve stopped investigating wayside takeaways. There’s only so much badly-made korma one stomach can take.

Anyway, the quest is ongoing, and to date we have three candidates of a decent bunnychow – my personal curry barometer – thus far: coming in reigning champion is The Kumars at 283 Lansdowne Road. No surprises there, as the family who run this den of spiced heaven are from Durban. At R35 for a chunky quarter mutton or chicken drenched in authentic Natal Curry flavour, I am officially in love with this place. Runner-up prize goes to Spice, run by Durbanite (surprise, surprise) Dino, and available as an order-ahead-pick-up-tomorrow operation, and damn fine it is too. And then in third place, in the blue silk shorts and weighing in at about the same price as The Kumars, Eastern Bazaar, which is at 96 Longmarket Street. Good value, great selection and always crazy busy, but a trifle on the mild side. What they lack in spice, they seem to make up for in quantity, and added to that is their tendency to use tandoor sauce to make the base of their curry, which leaves a little to be desired. Oh, and they have no idea what a quarter is – at the Bazaar it’s half or nothing, which makes for a lot of bread in a bunny. Fair enough, can’t have it all. Or for that matter, if you head to Bukhara, you can’t have anything. Well, you can, but it’ll cost you, so that joint is best avoided unless you have friends from outta town who want to impress by picking up the bill. At those prices, it won’t be the rogan josh making you weep, but rather the bill.