It's All Stir Fry

Food. There's a lot to be said for it. Especially when the quality – in terms of taste and, um, presentation – and the quantity – unlimited is best, are both available in spades. Then you can really shovel it down. Okay, I'm getting a bit carried away.

To return to the neighbourhood of the point, yesterday, a bunch of colleagues decided to head out for lunch. Nothing eye opening about that, of course. But we decided by a quirk of fate (20 minutes waiting at Lemon Grass Cafe) to chow down at the Noodle Bar. As restaurant moniker's go, by the way, that one sticks out as a truly creative one. It must have taken days, failing which, a committee of thousands of creative geniuses to come up with that one.

Anyway, we duly chewed our pencils up, ticking off the ingredients we wanted for the big wok job. I've already forgotten its given formal name, but in essence, you pick the veggies, meats, noodle variety, condiments and sauce(s), and they stir fry the lot (and a lot it is) and serve it in a serious looking bowl.

The thing is, most of us, took in the first forkful (or chopstick full in my case – and proud of it, I might add (you would be too, if you were clumsy, not especially motor-coordinated and still managed a full meal with smooth, slippery fake porcelain chopsticks)) and remembered wistfully, the lovely Gordon House Hotel and its glittering star, All Stir Fry. I've been there over, and over. And I love that place. And I'm about to tell you why.

The concept is simple. They have three glassed-off stir fry counters, manned ably by a trio of wiry chefs (neither of whom are in that pic, though). Outside the glass is a salad bar of sorts, with noodles (usually ramen and flat) at the corner, veggies in front and meats on the other side. You take a bowl (red ring say you're a <sneer> vegetarian and a black ringed bowl says all's right with your world) and fill it up. Or, if you're smart, you take two noodles (yes, just two noodles) and fill just a wee bit more than half the bowl with stuff, veggies first and take it to the chefs. There's a fair number of sauces on the board classified by how strong they are and you're free to experiment with them, including asking the stunned chef to add three or more sauces together. Plus condiments if you like. The result, somehow, is always extremely hot, extremely fresh and very tasty food.

Start a meal with their most excellent crackling spinach and a beer, follow it with a quick wok. Which is involved, involving and very satisfying process I just described. You can go back for as many bowls as you like. And while wasteful, should a particular bowl turn out not to your expectation, you can always skip and get a more appealing one. I've never once visited them without hurrying to the services halfway through to loosen that belt one notch or two, and I've never once managed to put together a combination that I didn't like. Even as I write this, sunbursts of flavour are going off in my head – I've taken many a long wok in there – the devil's sauce and its fiery arrogance, or the marginally milder burn of the mongolian sauce... I think I need to go back for another fix.

I do believe they now have a much bigger menu, but frankly, my dear, I don't give a damn. Didn't someone already say that? Well, it applies.

Dessert? Forget it. There's never space. And they do have lovely fortune cookies that say things like, 'You're about to get lucky.' As in what? The trouser tops will suddely turn elastic and you could squeeze in a bowl or two more? Sigh, that would be nice, come to think of it.

I do believe a restaurant review is supposed to include stuff about staff friendliness, knowledge, ambience and so forth. Well, let me see. Staff is nice. They bring the menu to you. And fresh bowls when you finish the last one. And the beer also. They know where the wok bar is. Ambience. That's good too. There's place to sit. A green wall with lots of woks mounted on it. High windows so you don't look out and focus on putting the stuff away. I cannot remember the music, but there must be some. And yeah, the Quick Wok costs Rs 300.

All Stir Fry | Online Menu
The Gordon House Hotel, Battery Street, Colaba
Council Hall, Mumbai - 400039
Phone: 022-22871122

Images mooched from mars-world.com

"Soul in Yo Bowl"

I make a good Jambalaya. I know this because most of the friends who have eaten it have lived to tell the tale. Some have even returned for seconds. And responding to a groundswell of popular demand, and for the greater common good, I feel that it is time that I should share my recipe for a Jambalaya. Vox Populi; Vox Dei and all that sort of thing, don't you know.

Ok, so the popular demand consisted of just one person but if you saw this populus, you'd know that she was all Dei.

Anyway, Jambalaya...

Jambalaya is a Cajun-Creole dish similar, in some ways to a Spanish paella or the Indian pulao (as opposed to the biryani). It originated in the swamps and badlands of Louisiana and according to Wikipedia, the Jambalaya dates back to at least 1872. Jambalaya can be made with beef, pork, chicken, duck, shrimp, oysters, crayfish, sausage, or any combination thereof or indeed from any other meat as well. If you want to throw in some 'gator in your Jambalaya, go right ahead! I make mine with a combination of chicken, Andouille sausage, Chorizo and shrimp.

But we are getting ahead of ourselves. You have to start at the very beginning, which as Maria von Trapp assures us, is a very good place to start.

And in the beginning, there is the trinity - equal parts onion, celery and bell peppers, chopped into a fine dice (about a half-cup each). The traditional trinity calls for green bell peppers but I find that just a tad too bitter and use red bell peppers instead (which also adds to the color of the dish, of course). I also throw in a few Jalapeño and/or Serrano peppers to add a little kick, but that is completely a matter of taste. The trinity should be sautéed in a dutch oven or any deep heavy pan , till the onions are transparent but not brown (deep so it can accommodate the rice and the meats without overflowing and heavy so that it retains heat. Do not use a non-stick pan, the reason for which will become clear in a minute). I prefer to use a combination of rendered bacon (pork fat rules!) and vegetable oil as the cooking medium but in these heart healthy times, use whatever oil you're comfortable with - vegetable, canola, peanut, olive; any one will do with two exceptions - extra virgin olive oil and mustard oil - because they have powerful aromas that will overwhelm the dish.

Season aggressively with crushed black pepper, cayenne pepper and Creole seasoning. If you are up to making your own Creole seasoning, here is a great basic recipe, but one can also buy this stuff pre-mixed and some of it is actually edible!

To the sautéing trinity, add the chicken and the sausages, each cut to about half-inch cubes/ slices/ dice - whatever floats your boat really. They should just be the approximate same size. It helps to use just one cut of chicken for e.g breasts (what can I say - I am a breast man!). Figure on using one chicken breast for two people. Season again with the Creole seasoning and sauté on medium heat till the chicken is browned evenly, some of the fat has rendered off the sausages and there is a good bit of 'frond' - the brown sticky bits at the bottom of the pan. The frond is critical to develop the brown color of the Jambalaya and to intensify the flavor; it is virtually impossible to develop a good frond in a non-stick pan. Enameled cast-iron is best, stainless steel is also ok, even hard anodized cookware will work in a pinch.

When the chicken has browned, add the rice (figure about a third to a half-cup per person - long grain rice works best, parboiled rice is fine) and move it around till the grains become sort of translucent. Add a couple of cloves of crushed garlic, move it around till it becomes fragrant and immediately add the cooking liquid for the rice (it happens fast in a hot pan - 30-45 secs - so watch out otherwise the garlic will burn). I like chicken stock but if you prefer fish/vegetable/ beef stock, that's fine. You can use water if you absolutely must but, be warned, it will dilute the flavors of the Jambalaya. You will need more liquid than if you were just cooking rice, so depending upon the type of rice grains you chose, you will need 2-2.5 times liquid. Use the liquid to also de-glaze the pot - scraping around the bottom to release all the frond and color and flavor contained therein.

Cook the rice as you normally would and about five minutes before the rice is done, add the shrimps (about a half-cup per) and some diced scallions. Be careful not to overcook the shrimp - when they turn pink they are done. Adjust seasonings while the Jambalaya is still liquidy and when the rice is done, so is the Jambalaya.

Eat. Enjoy.

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