Regular readers of this blog will know that I suffer from a shameless weakness for anglo-asian dishes. Done properly, curried cauliflower cheese, masala-ed up mousakka, tandoori fried chicken- all of the above are pretty much guaranteed to make me come over ever so slightly herbal essences. So when Richard Vines, his adorable aunt and sister in law suggested trying out the City branch of Bangalore Express one blustery evening I was in.
As we descended into what can only be described as a visual migraine, the huge geometric black, red and white designs ensconced us like the wet nightmare of some coke addled 80’s interior designer.A gaggle of staff sweated anxiously into the bowl of papadoms placed before us – I was deeply impressed. Garlic is my MSG and this was the one and only highlight for me. The combination of a home made pickled garlic dip, all seductive smoky sauce and crisp greaseless papads was champion.
I was sitting at the back of the 205 bus the other day when I came up with the idea of making my own aioli using duck eggs instead of hen’s eggs for a richer result, perhaps with some saffron and lots of finely chopped tarragon. This all seemed fairly straightforward and like a good idea at the time.
All I can say is NEVER AGAIN.
I don’t own an electric whisk and my food processor is broken so I decided to use my trusty old hand whisk. I crushed a fat clove of garlic with some salt and added the egg yolks. It all started fairly promisingly, things were looking wobbly and pale and altogether pretty perfect. Then foolishly, I added what must have been two drops of oil instead of one and it was game over.
The wobbly became more like a grey, grainy cream that refused to transmogrify back into mayonnaise no matter how much I coaxed it. However, being a stubborn one I persisted, determined to whip everything back into shape. I proceeded to spend the next four hours whisking like a proper loser. That’s four hours of my life I will never get back.