Mastering Beef

গরুর চাঁপ 

Tenderised Beef

Apologies for the crappy picture, and all the oil!

I've let myself down a little over the last few years in terms of home cooking beef and red meat. This is unforgivable really, given how beef is meant to be my favourite meat. I've tried to compensate with steak, but no matter how much peppercorn sauce I slather onto a slab of meat it does nothing to recreate the Bangladeshi experience. Until recently any red meat I cooked at home came out smelling just a little off-kilter. I experimented with various modifications to mom's recipes and took on board friends' suggestions - doing everything from adding extra spices to boiling, frying or searing the meat before cooking. In the end, it seems I've found a solution with this beef "chaap" (or tenderised beef) recipe, which I cooked slowly for a significantly longer time than my mom had recommended. 

Fakruddin, at midday before the Ramadan evening iftaar rush

Beef chaap is not an average, everyday dish. It has rich, complex flavours achieved by infusing the meat with an unusual number spices over the length of the cooking process. Chaap is thus reserved for special meals in our family during Ramadan in Dhaka, traditionally bought from Fakruddin’s. The late Fakruddin was originally a chef who ran the canteen at my cousin's old school Viqarunnisa, before branching out to serve food to the public. His sons operate a much bigger business now, built on the back of their father's culinary reputation. Fakruddin is famous for his biryani, but good biryani is easy to come by in Dhaka and it’s his more unique beef chaap that I remember most vividly. Bangladeshi food markets are always heaving during Ramadan, especially near iftaar time. Fakruddin’s is definitely no exception and so it’s always safest to get in early like in the photograph above. By 3 PM the place is packed, and getting to the food counter seems nigh on impossible amidst the crush of people.

Chaap is usually store-bought for special occasions and I've never really heard of anyone cooking it at home. Mom had to resort this as we had no access to Fakruddin while abroad - much like how and why I run this blog now. I don’t know where her original comes from, but I don't consider my version of it complete as some of the spice amounts below aren’t yet very well defined. I will therefore be coming back to this with edits and updates so please check back and for now, proceed with caution!

An Evolving Relationship

বেগুন ভাজি 

Fried Aubergine

Fried aubergines done in a mostly traditional manner.
Also - I wasn't responsible for the coriander.

A large chunk of my childhood food memories actually revolve around a past hatred for certain vegetables. If they were ever forced on me, I would try to gulp them down without chewing. On the odd occasion I ended up with their horrible taste in my mouth, I’d rush onto the meat course to purify my palate.  Of course, I say past hatred because my tastes have evolved - just as my parents always told me they would! I now dislike fewer vegetables, with my disgust limited to Brussel sprouts, fennel and certain preparations of cauliflower. 

Having said this, there are vegetables out there that I have always liked – spinach, broccoli and mushrooms stand out as long-time favourites. I feel that, as with all foods, the method of preparation makes a big difference. I’ve always had a soft spot for the East-Southeast Asian take on vegetables, whereas Bangladeshi vegetarian cuisine has always engendered mixed feelings. Everyday recipes like the mixed vegetable dish I've written about before I actually grew up detesting, though my opinion has changed now. For some reason (read: I was/am a difficult child) I’ve always liked dishes containing the more difficult to procure Bangladeshi vegetables like pui shag, lota, kochu or raw jackfruit. 

The above vegetables are even more difficult to get your hands on in Europe, and so they haven’t made their way to the blog yet. Aubergines on the other hand grow locally, meaning I've cooked this dish now and again while living in the UK. It's a very simple everyday dish, often served with khichuri. I've never seen any majors variations of it beyond a change in heat levels or the introduction of sour notes - the latter of which I've done below using yoghurt. 

Review: Purnell's

Wish Fulfilment

Bread from French wheat, whipped butter & salt

I consider Birmingham to be one of my homes, and so I've always been annoyed at not having visited any of its Michelin starred restaurants. I've complained about this before, but as luck would have it I was in town at a good time and got my brother and myself a table at Purnell's for lunch. First impressions during the booking process weren't great, as the website threatened me with a £45 cover charge per person for no-shows and demanded my card details. For lunch. I find these policies faintly ridiculous for reasons I won't get into here, but I wasn't worried that I'd miss lunch so I proceeded to book anyway. 

Review: Spuntino

The London to-do list, part 2 of n

Three 3 oz mini burgers, or sliders, from Spuntino

Spuntino was another one of those places I'd read rave reviews about when I first moved to London, but their gimmicky website - which lists their address and nothing else in flickering text - did them no favours in terms of motivating me to visit. Minus half a point right there. I should also mention their stools-around-a-bar approach to seating: another reason I stayed away for a while. I use restaurant meals to catch up with friends and being perched around a bar doesn't offer the most effective setting.

The interior

However, a friend and I arrived here drenched to the bone after an unsuccessful attempt at checking out the Notting Hill Carnival. The day was far too wet to enjoy anything outdoors so Spuntino was my suggested back up plan. We walked in around lunchtime and found the space conveniently deserted. The guys at the bar were friendly and affable, and one quickly got us some popcorn and tap water as we dried off and decided what to order.

Review: The Delaunay

The London to-do list, part 1 of n

Based on what I've tried, the Delaunay is possibly the best
confectioners in London

So it seems that my time in London is coming to an end. My job brought me here two years ago and now it's moving me away again. I'm sure I'll be back - London isn't one those cities that people never come back to. I've actually kind of slacked off on reviewing London restaurants. This is partly because my schedule has meant I've spent a lot of time eating in random places that have been quite good, but not good enough to motivate an immediate review. However, over the last few months I've been trying to rectify this by trying out places that have either come to me highly recommended or are special to me in some way. As with any to-do list, it's been growing ever since its inception and I'm not sure when it's going to end, but expect this to be the theme for the next few posts.

The interior: vast, with dark wooden furniture and panelling,
white table cloth and smart service.

I found the Delaunay online while looking for a place to brunch. Central London is a bit far from Richmond though and I'd never made the trip until recently when I popped in for cake after dinner at Koya with a friend. The cakes, I have to say, were the best I've had in London and will be heavily influencing the food score for this review. The Delaunay is a great place to keep in mind for something sweet and a coffee late at night. I vowed to come back for a fuller meal, and so made plans for brunch with two other friends I'd have had to come to Central London to meet anyway. I'd made a reservation online and upon coming in we were shown straight to our table. The main interior of the restaurant, past the bar and it's few tables, is a rather grand room of gleaming wood and white table cloth bustling with people. A bit noisy, which I suppose can be a good or bad thing depending on what kind of vibe you're in the mood for.