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It is hard to resist the lip-smacking tamatarwali machhi THERE was a time when we were privileged to interact with the legendary ‘Lamba Saab’`A0 (P. L. Lamba of Kwality fame), the Grand Old Man of Indian eateries business. He was as proud of his fish Portuguese`A0as of his fabulous chhole kulche that had turned his fortunes post-Partition.
From kiosk to plush fine dinning restaurants in Delhi, Bombay and London (and state of the art ice-cream factories) was a long journey that awaits chronicling but as we await the Boswell for this Johnson, let’s have a glimpse of his favourite dish. What Kwality rustled up for its most finicky ‘customer’ remains, of course, a trade secret — what is in public domain is the fact that what goes by the name Portuguese is essentially a Creole dish created by an innovative cook mixing and matching memories of home food in Iberia with local ingredients readily available. It is common knowledge that it was the Portuguese who brought tomatoes to India, along with chillies, potatoes and tobacco. The ‘fruits’ and the tuber ‘root’ have proved even more addictive than nicotine and it is safe to declare that Indians will never be able to kick the alu-tamatar mirchi habit. The recipe we bring to
our readers this time acknowledges its debt to colonial adventurers
like Vasco da Gama by prefixing their country’s name to it. However,
whoever has sampled it with us insists on referring to it as tamatarwali
machhi. Needless to add, keeping with the spirit of innovation, it
gladly strays from the standard version in Larousse.
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Ingredients