Post by Admin on Mar 8th, 2004 at 1:36am
Overwhelmed with the urge for exotic food, I searched the Internet for Indian restaurants in Paris. While it might seem there are a multitude of ethnic eateries in a city of this size, there aren't. In fact, the French prefer French food.
The Royal Kashmir was packed. Somehow a table for six was adapted for three couples. We were presented a free "kir".
I remembered passing a group of Indian groceries on the way to Gare de Nord to catch an early morning Eurostar. So on Sunday morning, we walked in that direction -- it was too far. Just as we mounted the bus a couple of stops from the station, we passed Passage Brady. "That's it!" I hollered -- we got off, next stop.
The menu at the Royal Kashmir was pretty conventional. I'd imagined a blend of India and France, a la Pondichery. After samosas, we ordered two vegetarian dishes, a Lamb Kashmir, saffron rice and nan. We were out in an hour.
The Passage Brady smelled divine. There are hundreds of covered passages between buildings in Paris -- each with its own distinctive character. This one might have been called "fragrance". I bought a variety of spices, single and mixed, including a package of decorative rosebuds and Sri Lankan coffee.
Determined not to repeat the Royal Kashmir experience, we chose an EMPTY restaurant just outside the Passage Brady for Sunday lunch. The New Delhi combined decorative French and gaudy Indian decor beneath an upholstered ceiling. Lit candles on the table countered the snow flurries outside.
I made a North African chicken dish with my new spices. We carried it over to the restaurant to try with Michel and Nicole. We started out with small, grilled Japanese eggplants I'd found at the Passage Brady. A regular customer, finished with his own dinner, asked to try the chicken.
The New Delhi also had a fairly standard Indian menu, but the subtleties of spice were finer. The fish, heavily dosed with cumin, was an inspiration. The owner told me they started all dishes with the same curry base, but then added spices to accent the flavors of the meat or fish within.
The manager at the New Delhi, from New Delhi, played contemporary music from his region for us. Every so often he'd dash out the door to try to corral some passing potential customers. He wore a well-fitted, if oddly styled black suit. "From New Delhi," Blair observed.
I studied the display of Hindu head dots and henna kits. We asked for saffron, kept in little boxes tied with gold thread, behind the counter. I lingered at the Indian grocery even after we paid, unwilling to give up the perfumed air.
In the mail this week, we received a letter from the "Monnaie de Paris" (the money museum) to design another coin. This one: a gold medal, with a Hindu theme. Maybe it's a trend.
http://www.paintfox.com/
Laurie (painting and text) and Blair PESSEMIER
laurie3-6-4chinalantern.JPG (104 KB | )
The Royal Kashmir was packed. Somehow a table for six was adapted for three couples. We were presented a free "kir".
I remembered passing a group of Indian groceries on the way to Gare de Nord to catch an early morning Eurostar. So on Sunday morning, we walked in that direction -- it was too far. Just as we mounted the bus a couple of stops from the station, we passed Passage Brady. "That's it!" I hollered -- we got off, next stop.
The menu at the Royal Kashmir was pretty conventional. I'd imagined a blend of India and France, a la Pondichery. After samosas, we ordered two vegetarian dishes, a Lamb Kashmir, saffron rice and nan. We were out in an hour.
The Passage Brady smelled divine. There are hundreds of covered passages between buildings in Paris -- each with its own distinctive character. This one might have been called "fragrance". I bought a variety of spices, single and mixed, including a package of decorative rosebuds and Sri Lankan coffee.
Determined not to repeat the Royal Kashmir experience, we chose an EMPTY restaurant just outside the Passage Brady for Sunday lunch. The New Delhi combined decorative French and gaudy Indian decor beneath an upholstered ceiling. Lit candles on the table countered the snow flurries outside.
I made a North African chicken dish with my new spices. We carried it over to the restaurant to try with Michel and Nicole. We started out with small, grilled Japanese eggplants I'd found at the Passage Brady. A regular customer, finished with his own dinner, asked to try the chicken.
The New Delhi also had a fairly standard Indian menu, but the subtleties of spice were finer. The fish, heavily dosed with cumin, was an inspiration. The owner told me they started all dishes with the same curry base, but then added spices to accent the flavors of the meat or fish within.
The manager at the New Delhi, from New Delhi, played contemporary music from his region for us. Every so often he'd dash out the door to try to corral some passing potential customers. He wore a well-fitted, if oddly styled black suit. "From New Delhi," Blair observed.
I studied the display of Hindu head dots and henna kits. We asked for saffron, kept in little boxes tied with gold thread, behind the counter. I lingered at the Indian grocery even after we paid, unwilling to give up the perfumed air.
In the mail this week, we received a letter from the "Monnaie de Paris" (the money museum) to design another coin. This one: a gold medal, with a Hindu theme. Maybe it's a trend.
http://www.paintfox.com/
Laurie (painting and text) and Blair PESSEMIER
laurie3-6-4chinalantern.JPG (104 KB | )