Photopost: Hare Krishna Lunch

A while back I wrote about the mysterious van that shows up during lunchtime, always at a particular spot outside a certain office building downtown. It's from Govinda's, a vegetarian Indian buffet place run by the Hare Krishnas, and while I find the atmosphere at the restaurant a little culty, I do occasionally order a delicious, filling lunch from the van (via e-mail, of course).

So below we have the full lunch, which is $8 (it's $6 without the yogurt and dessert). Clockwise from the bottom: rice with an icky pickle on it, two curries, a flatbread (kulcha, I think), dal, halava for dessert, and yogurt.

Lunch, Pakistani-Afghani Style

Yesterday I learned that the spices you eat can darken or lighten your skin.

Allow me to explain. I went to lunch with an adventurous friend who was up for trying an Afghani place I hadn’t been to for at least a year. The owner, an exceedingly tall guy whose parentage is half-Pakistani, half-Afghani, was an intermittent presence at our table. He helpfully suggested various dishes (take his advice as I did and get the lamb biryani, it’s fabulous) and playfully cajoled us into trying their special yogurt sauce. It’s ordinarily just for the staff, but after tasting it, I did my best to playfully cajole him into adding it to the menu.

I asked about the spice mix on the kebobs, and he started telling me about the two options (one just tasty, one fiery and tasty) but then took a sharp left turn into the topic of skin-darkening spices. He listed off countries with spicy food (Pakistan, India) that have darker-skinned people and countries with less spicy food (Afghanistan, most notably) that have lighter-skinned people. He said a lot of people don’t realize the connection, but it’s true.

Then we moved on to the topic of the cheesecake that he’d put together that we had to try. When I asked if he could take our order, he put in a final plug for the cheesecake and said he’d send the waitress over.

This morning when I Googled “skin-darkening spices” I only found links about how to lighten dark skin. When I Googled “light skin spices” I found the same kinds of links. This is not shocking, given the cultural value placed on light skin in many cultures, but it’s still sad. It also reminds me of when I asked someone, during our trip to India last year, whether the skin-lightening creams I saw everywhere actually work.

Her face definitely darkened when she said she’d tried them, but they don’t do anything.

Right Back to Food

A variety of utensils surround an idli mold, which I do not yet know how to use. The spatula on the left, however, is great for sticky brownies, and the one on the right is fantastic for rice. I think the things on top and bottom are for gripping hot things such as idli molds.

Apologies in advance for making you hungry, dear readers. But just as a party always ends up in the kitchen, this blog, it seems, always comes back to food.

About six months ago, a coworker of mine alerted me to the daily presence of a white van outside an office building two blocks away from our building. It seemed to attract numerous South Asians, and so one day I stopped by to ask what was going on.

It turns out that a local vegetarian Indian restaurant sends its daily lunch menu via e-mail, takes orders via e-mail, and distributes the tasty bundles to diners from the aforementioned white van. It’s strictly cash-and-carry.

I might order their food once a month; it’s a bit spicy, but the Southern Indian menus are always a treat, as it’s hard to get good Tamilian food here. Receiving their e-mail menus, though, is a daily bright spot, and today I had a fun e-mail exchange with them.

Their consistently alliterative and enthusiastic menu alone is worth posting:

1. Lucious Lemon Rice
2. Curry 1: Marvelous Mutur Paneer!!!!!!!!
3. Curry 2: Awesome Alu (Dry)
4. Mahaparathas MMmmmmmmm
5. Tasty Toor Dhal
6. Dessert: Great Gulabjamans YYYYYYYYeah!
7. Yogurt for Yogis
8. Complimentary Pickle

But today, my friends, comes welcome news during these troubled times: they have lowered their prices due to cheaper gas and a better supplier. Eight bucks gets you every item listed above; you just subtract a dollar each if you don’t want yogurt or dessert.

I e-mailed them to ask how the system got started and they replied with this:
“Necessity is the Mother of invention. We needed to get this wonderful food to you- how else in this age? Try it today is GREAT! :-)”

So I wrote back:
“I promise to order next time you offer Tamilian food – it’s hard to get decent idli in this town, and yours are great. I’m still curious -- did a patron who works at XYZ Co. suggest the system?”

And they replied:
“Ok. No.”

I like to think the brevity of that last reply is due to the speed with which today’s orders were pouring in.

Amazing Food Masala

At the risk of appearing to be obsessed with food, I have another food post, inspired by something I saw at lunch today.

The weather’s been unseasonably warm, so I walked around for a bit and then, needing a dollar in order to participate in my office's lottery ticket pool, went into the snack shop at a downtown bank to break a twenty. Because truly, I'd feel silly if I missed out on being in the group that bought a winning $173 million dollar ticket.

So I bought myself a moderately healthy snack and a soda, and on my way out, I saw this:

One of the most American of foods: deep-fried pork skin. One of the most British of flavorings: salt & vinegar. A most unexpected and arresting masala. I stopped. I stared. No, I did not buy them. I’m not at all averse to the delights of pig fat, but eating fried skin is just not my thing.

Incidentally, the process by which packaged fried foods are flavored was developed by an Irish potato chip (crisp) company, Tayto, which does not credit itself with the innovation at their site.

But maybe they have no need to toot their own horn: Tayto is the generic term for crisps in Ireland, and their mascot, Mr. Tayto, has a Facebook page with 7,530 fans.