There are many ways to travel. You could pack your bag and find a spot on the map, or grab a plate and pull a chair. You could take in the sight and smells around you, or bite into food that reveals its own secrets and stories. And in a busy, crowded world where the time disappears before you can remember to book your tickets, it’s quite wonderful how food can take you places. And Gurgaon’s Park Plaza, with a Bengali Food Festival at their New Town Café’, was yet another way of travelling east.
Flying in Samir Sen, Chef de Partie, Bengali cuisine specialist from Kolkata, the restaurant promised authentic Bengali cuisine to its diners. The thing is, it’s easy to recognise authentic Bengali food. The closer it is to the real thing, the more homely it’s going to be. A plateful of Bengali rice and fish curry holds, along with the promise of taste, a touch of home. It beckons you to get comfortable and dig in, without self-consciousness and reserve.
And this is exactly what Chef Sen offered. After a first look at the set buffet, laid out and crowded with familiar names like chatu’r shorbote, vegetable chop, murghir chop, kabiraji cutlet, sorshe dharosh, shuktoni, bekti paturi, chingri malai curry and Murshadabi murgir jhol, we began with a portion of Kolkata mutton biryani. Now, there’s something about biryani from Bengal, and something especially arresting about great biryani from Bengal. When done right, its delicate flavours, the perfectly boiled egg and the soft saffron colour command loyalty. It promises a trip back for those familiar with the by lanes of old world Bengal, and for those who haven’t made their way east yet, it brings a little of that world on their plate.
Chef Sen’s Biryani, cooked and flavoured just right, lived up to its name. The mutton too was delicate and soft, the meat neither over nor under done, and spiced wonderfully well.
Satisfied with our first choice, we then tried a portion of Murshadabi murgir jhol and shuktoni. While the chicken fell slightly flat, richly spiced but coming together to offer an average fare, the shuktoni, a kind of mixed vegetable Bengali preparation, was delicious, the brinjals and potatoes cooked in creamy, strong and thick gravy.
Surprisingly, a plate of mutton chops appeared while we were making our way through the mains. While their timing was certainly off, as was the presentation, quite half-heartedly garnished with stray coriander, the chops were once again straight out of an authentic Bengali kitchen. Bite sized, the minced mutton chops were delicious, flavoured perfectly and packed in just right, the meat soft but not too soft, and the crumbed and fried covering crispy.
Of course, a Bengali meal demands a sweet end, and the display of an assortment of options, including the quintessential mishit doi and rosogulla, lay before us. We picked out a saffron sandesh, an interesting combination, both in terms of texture and flavouring. While not the best I’ve ever had, the sandesh was neither overwhelmingly sweet nor bland, and a pretty good end to the meal.
