Within the past few years, several new Indian restaurants have popped up, enhancing Warsaw's ethnic eating experience. This is so important. I discovered Indian* cuisine at university and have, as has the entire British nation, taken a great appetite for it. Chicken tikka masala is Britain's favourite dish.
There's the India Curry (ul. Żurawia 22), no longer new - I remember the opening event... six years ago? I was here a few weeks ago for a blogmeet; the atmosphere is pleasant and relaxed - not too crowded - but it is not cheap.
Earlier this year, we made two sorties across the river to newly-opened Indian restaurants - LaBono (Grochowska 224, by Rondo Wiatraczna), reasonable food, not too-heavily spiced (i.e. aimed at the Polish palate), and by comparison with left-bank Indian restaurants - cheap. The other one was Arti (Francuska 5A). A first visit (seven of us, in winter) proved wildly successful. The food was unbelievably cheap (we thought the bill would have been cheap for four!) and because there was no drinks licence, we bought wine from the Carrefour across the road. A return to Arti in May saw a drinks licence in place (so wine was double supermarket prices) and the food prices had shot up to levels normally seen in the established Indian restaurants.
Still, the food at Arti was excellent (they do vindaloo, and when it says vindaloo, they mean a real blaster. And mutton dishes). So last month I tried the original Arti, (Al. Jerozolimskie 122, between the Mexican restaurant Amigos and the 'ToiToi' buliding by Plac Zawiszy). Again, excellent Indian food, as the British would understand it, though not cheap by Warsaw (or indeed London!) standards.
So I was delighted when my good friend Chris (a British expat gone native in Warsaw) suggested a meal at the Ganesh in Ursynów (al. KEN 93, by Stokłosy Metro. There's another one on Wilcza 50/52)
[As I write I'm eating the remains of last night's meal. I'm an Indian restaurant doggy bag obsessive. Nothing gets thrown away. There was enough left over for a) breakfast for me, b) lunch for Moni and c) a final bowlful for my supper. It is rare that a restaurant critic can be writing about food at the very instant he's eating it, but such is the case.]
And excellent it is too. Delivered just the way the British palate craves. The nomenclature of dishes at the Ganesh is unusual - a keema nan is called a Kabuli nan here, and the mutton sizzler definitely did not come out of the tandoor (clay oven). [It's the little differences.] Still, it's the taste that counts, and the food here is big on taste. Mutton's on the menu. Notice: mutton, not lamb, just as in Britain one eats beef rather than veal. Killing and eating baby sheep is somehow wrong in Poland, while little baby cows are hard to swallow in England. Culture clash.
The bill was not small either (admittedly Chris and I downed nine beers between us); total came to three stoovers plus tips (ie. 30 quid a head, a lot by London standards). But then in London I'd be eating Indian at least three times a month; here it's the occasional treat.
Another good friend and fellow blogger Krzysztof tells me that Katowice already has three Indian restaurants, which suggests there's room for many more in both Warsaw and the Silesian conurbation. We ate at the Arti (above) with his cousin Paweł, who'd never eaten Indian before; the vindaloo quite defeated Krzystof, who knows his way around an Indian menu. But Paweł - who I thought would blanch at the killer heat of this dish - kept on spooning on more and more. This suggests to me that Poland is in the same situation that England was in 40 years ago. Indian food, which is exciting, exotic - addictive, almost - will catch on here too. The more restaurants open, the greater the choice, the higher the quality, the lower the prices.
Interesting too, is the nomenclature. 'India' in Polish is Indie (plural). The adjective 'Indian' is indyjsk/i/a/ie; Indian restaurant is restauracja indyjska. And yet - even in the press - an often misued adjective pertaining to India is hindusk/i/a/ie, literally 'Hindustani'.
If you are an Indian restaurateur who has chanced by this blog post - give Warsaw a try. The potential here is huge.
Another good friend and fellow blogger Krzysztof tells me that Katowice already has three Indian restaurants, which suggests there's room for many more in both Warsaw and the Silesian conurbation. We ate at the Arti (above) with his cousin Paweł, who'd never eaten Indian before; the vindaloo quite defeated Krzystof, who knows his way around an Indian menu. But Paweł - who I thought would blanch at the killer heat of this dish - kept on spooning on more and more. This suggests to me that Poland is in the same situation that England was in 40 years ago. Indian food, which is exciting, exotic - addictive, almost - will catch on here too. The more restaurants open, the greater the choice, the higher the quality, the lower the prices.
Interesting too, is the nomenclature. 'India' in Polish is Indie (plural). The adjective 'Indian' is indyjsk/i/a/ie; Indian restaurant is restauracja indyjska. And yet - even in the press - an often misued adjective pertaining to India is hindusk/i/a/ie, literally 'Hindustani'.
If you are an Indian restaurateur who has chanced by this blog post - give Warsaw a try. The potential here is huge.
* 90% of 'Indian' restaurants in the UK are actually Bangladeshi-owned. To them is owed the standard British korma - curry - madras - vindaloo - phall scale of hotness. Indian restaurants have long contributed more to the British economy than the steel industry, and employed more people.
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9 comments:
You were making me hungry for a curry!
I've just come back from Dębki, a family seaside resort, where I found an Indian/Chinese fast food restaurant. I had a pork 'Binadaloo', which was a delicately flavoured curry with cardamom well to the fore. It was excellent.
It is difficult to know how to describe the level of mild/hot/very hot for my food in Poland. My idea of mild is most Polish people's idea of hot. I therefore requested very hot, but fearing an English style very hot Vindaloo. After the lady serving asked me to repeat 'very hot' three times, she called over the cook to check. He was Asian, although he didn't look Indian, Pakistani, etc and spoke in English. Maybe he didn't speak Polish very well, as I got the impression he was cheap labour. The 'very hot' was a very pleasant medium hot.
The Sikh owner of the Tandoor Palace also owns the Old Town Thai restaurant (Maharaja?). There is a noodle dish on the starter part of the menu, which I absolutely recommend for lovers of hot and spicy food.
Isn't there a restaurant serving Indian food on Nowy Świat somewhere near Blikle? It may be a year or so ago that I went there when it was newly opened. I think it was said to be an Indian restaurant, although the range was much wider. The food was fine, but I sorely missed the look and smell of the food displayed across the table: an important part of the meal experience in England.
Pork? Curry? Sounds like a Vietnamese invention. My guess is that the "Indian restaurant gap" will be filled in the first instance by the Vietnamese, who are Poland's cuisine what the Bengalis were to Britain's. The (blonde) waitress will tell you that the not-particularly Indian looking fellows in the kitchen are Nepalis - not so; they are more often than not Vietnamese.
Just as Bangladeshi restaurants in the UK outnumber (real) Indian ones nine to one, so Vietnamese restaurants in Poland outnumber all other Asian restaurants by a similar figure.
The Indian dining experience is spoilt for me by blonde Polish waitresses (as pretty as they may be!); I'm used to a south Asian gent sidling up to our table and asking if the Tikka is OK or whether we'd like another Cobra (better than Kingfisher, the other main Indian beer brand, by far).
As to Steve's point about Poles being unable to deal with hot spice, I agree. Today I bought a huge bag of tortilla chips at Auchan and a jar of salsa dip. The 'hot' salsa was in an absolute minority on a shelf stacked with the mild and medium varieties. And the 'hot' salsa would not pass muster as mild in Los Angeles.
Whilst I agree with your sentiments about the Polish waiters and waitresses, I am not so sure about the kitchen staff. The ones I have spoken to in Warsaw said they were from India in the Indian restaurant and Thai in the Thai restaurant. The man in Dębki was not Vietnamese - they were sitting at one of the tables - and I would have guessed from his looks that he was from somewhere like Indonesia. The owner/manager was sitting at another table and from his accent when he lapsed into the occasional English word, appeared to be from England. Some kebab restaurant owners I met have been Turkish. There was also a waiter from the Phillipines who was hoping to save enough money to open a restaurant in Warsaw. I don't even go out to eat very much. Poland is on the wider world entrepreneurial map already even if it isn't a primary destination.
On pork curry, a quote from the internet: "The term Vindaloo, derivative of the Portuguese "vinho de alho" (wine with garlic), and also called Vindalho or Vindallo, was first brought to Goa, on the west coast of India, right on the Arabian Sea, by the Portuguese some 400 years ago. The original traditional Portuguese dish was made with pork preserved in red wine or red wine vinegar chili pepper, and stewed with garlic. The later Vindaloo received the Goan treatment of adding plentiful amounts of spice".
I'm afraid just two in Katowice, and one in Sosnowiec.
Thank you very much for the inspiration, though. Even if that were only to be for Witnail & I on the one hand, and Jaipuri with Saffron Pulao on the other, I am yours forever.
Good food in good company - the meaning of life.
We must try the Ganesh next time you're in Warsaw.
Or you here.
Before the Leonard Cohen gig.
:)
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