George Shaw is taken on an epic journey through India’s diverse flavours and culinary techniques.
Babul, the name is taken the songbird regarded as symbol of divine love, beauty, and the soulful voice of nature, has an avowed intent on showcasing the rich diversity of authentic regional dishes, with modern interpretations tradional Indian fare. The impressive underground setting was once home to thunderous Fleet Street newspaper printing presses, which communicated a different tpe of message to a wider world.
The theatre began with a temptation to an aperatif or three, which like the food to come draws on different regions of India, with each drink inspired by distinct Indian botanical profiles, literally sharecased in a presentation humador, supported by dedicated Indian gin and single malt lists.
The feast began with Dadi Ka Dabba box which draws a direct line straight back to Dadi ka ghar (grandmother’s house), delivered in box of snacks, pickles and chutneys which will be familar to Indian natives that that always had a place your her kitchen. The intentionally uncompliated selection comprised: Padrón pepper achar, duck pickle and lime chutney alongside jhalmuri, khakhra, khichiya papadum and mathi.
Next up was an amuse bouche of three vagely familar small bites, given a contemporary tweak. Amritsari Oyster — an exquisite tempura-fried oyster with carom seeds, mirchi raita, pickled onion and Exmoor caviar. The starting point was the flavour of Amritsari fried fish, reinterpreted with an
oyster. Black Truffle Aloo Tikki — our take on the classic aloo tikki, shaped to resemble a whole black truffle and served with truffle yoghurt. Playful in presentation, but at heart still very much an Indian potato tikki. Raw Mango Pani Puri — built around raw mango and accompanied by a raw mango kombucha, which brought together a refreshing sharp, sweet and sour notes.
To follow came a South Indian comfort food of a crisp Pepper Crab Dosa served with pepper-fry crab and coconut and peanut chutney. The sweetness of the crab, warmth of black pepper, crisp dosa and cooling chutney came together to form a delightful unison.
For me the pinacle of the evening was the Shrimp Balchão, a dish served simply with Melba toast, to showcase the historic Portuguese influence on Goan cooking. This interpretation is made with a vinegar today and coconut jaggery, affording the pleasingly firm shrimp a characteristic sweet, sour, spicy and almost pickled quality of a balchão.
The Jodhpuri Lamb Chop & Lamb Kakori Kebab contrasted two very different expressions of lamb and Indian kebab cooking. The Jodhpuri Lamb had been marinated with Mathania chillies and grilled over charcoal, resulting in its boldness, smoke and a proper char. The Kakori was its almost diamtric opposite — soft and delicate almost at the point at a pâté like texture. This dish, Chef Yaz told me owes its origins to an elderly goat-loving maharaja, who having lost his teeth, charged his cook with the task of delivering a suitably rendition of the meat, on pain of death.
An Ode to India, a micro-regional thali perhaps best explains everything the Bubul concept has set out to achieve, demonstating just how Indian cooking changes enormously as you travel across the country — from the chillies and souring agents to the cooking fats and the way each region treats its meat, seafood, rice and lentils.
The Prawn Manga Curry — cooked with raw mango in a coastal-style curry, where the natural sourness of the mango works against the sweetness of the prawns.
Mewari Laal Maans — a take on the Rajasthani classic using Mathania chilli. The layering on flavours are not masked by the heat of the chiilis;
Tand Old Delhi Butter Chicken — the fore runner of now ubiquitous chicken tikka massala of high street curry house. Here, the chicken is properly charred and the sauce rich with tomato and butter, retaining a complexity of smoke, acidity and savouriness rather than being overly sweet.
I find it near impossible to resist black dal. Not because it is a favourite of mine. It isn’t. Far from it. But because every top chef insists I try theirs. The rich flavours are delightful. It’s that the cream sits heavily on my stomach, where it will sit for hours, taking an valueable space for the other delights on offer. I taste Chef Yaz’s Dal Bulbul. There is no trick it it he explains, “Just time
and patience,” as it slow cooks for 24 hours. Indeed, the lentils have a majestic creaminess and depth. That I left most of them resplendant in their bowl was not a criticism.
Ambur Chicken Biryani — inspired by the famous biryanis of Ambur in Tamil Nadu, steamed four hours inside a heavy sealed pot, the wrapped and served in banana leaf with raita and baingan salan, was majestic.
For pudding, there had to be a White Chocolate Rasmalai, thought to have been introuced to the Brits via the BBC Radio 4’s Goodness Gracious Me sitcom in the 1980s. The now familiar dessert has fine dining a presentation of gold and silver leaf, without losing what makes its true identity. Although set into a white chocolate crémeux and served with saffron milk, but the flavour still take Indian arrivists straight back to the original, I’m told.
Finally, Petit Fours, two small bites to finish. The Fennel & Dark Chocolate Bonbon comes from the very Indian habit of having saunf after ameal, pairing the freshness of fennel with dark chocolate.
The Rose & Cardamom Shortbread is a feft nod to the flavours of mithai and a cup of chai —
buttery, floral and a simple way to finish what has been a remarkable culinary journey.