A tale of Two Curries
I've eaten curry twice in the last week; two very different meals in very different surroundings.
Thursday last week was Andrew's funeral. As he had been serving with the Gurkhas when he was hit and as he enjoyed curry himself, the funeral supper was a rich Nepali curry served in the formal surroundings of the officers' mess. There were paintings & ceremonial plate on the walls and all the men were either in medalled uniform or formal suits. Even those in suits often showed some military background by wearing regimental ties or flashing cuff-links with military insignia. Many drank to remember and drank to forget: it was befittingly sombre.
The food was excellent, freshly made with fresh spices, very meaty and rich.
Last night, another curry, another Andrew, very much alive. Scully gave me a call yesterday afternoon to say that he'd be overnighting in Bristol, and did we want to go out? The Thali Cafe is in Montpelier about twenty minutes' walk from home and I'd been intending to go there ever since it opened about ten years ago. The food was also excellent but light and vegetarian, and the surroundings were such a contrast to last week, slightly shabby hippy-chic, almost a hangover from the 70's. It was also pretty cheap, definitely good value. (Although it didn't help that I'd forgotten to take all my cash so that Scully paid more than his fair share). The diners were different, too. They wore beads & bangles instead of medals, were scruffy not smart, and the conversations seemed genuine not forced. Worlds of difference.
On our way home we popped into the Cadbury House for a swift drink. It's also the site of a celebrated meeting or worlds: it's where Samantha Cameron claims that Tricky taught her to play pool. He denies it, I hear.
:o/
Thursday last week was Andrew's funeral. As he had been serving with the Gurkhas when he was hit and as he enjoyed curry himself, the funeral supper was a rich Nepali curry served in the formal surroundings of the officers' mess. There were paintings & ceremonial plate on the walls and all the men were either in medalled uniform or formal suits. Even those in suits often showed some military background by wearing regimental ties or flashing cuff-links with military insignia. Many drank to remember and drank to forget: it was befittingly sombre.
The food was excellent, freshly made with fresh spices, very meaty and rich.
Last night, another curry, another Andrew, very much alive. Scully gave me a call yesterday afternoon to say that he'd be overnighting in Bristol, and did we want to go out? The Thali Cafe is in Montpelier about twenty minutes' walk from home and I'd been intending to go there ever since it opened about ten years ago. The food was also excellent but light and vegetarian, and the surroundings were such a contrast to last week, slightly shabby hippy-chic, almost a hangover from the 70's. It was also pretty cheap, definitely good value. (Although it didn't help that I'd forgotten to take all my cash so that Scully paid more than his fair share). The diners were different, too. They wore beads & bangles instead of medals, were scruffy not smart, and the conversations seemed genuine not forced. Worlds of difference.
On our way home we popped into the Cadbury House for a swift drink. It's also the site of a celebrated meeting or worlds: it's where Samantha Cameron claims that Tricky taught her to play pool. He denies it, I hear.
:o/
Labels: food
posted by Moses at
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