It’s that time of year when the Bockbier of Franconia calls. Curry opperchancities are limited, to many restaurants are open in the evening only, which does not fit into the daily model.
And so Hector headed off to Erlangen, the town with a disproportionately high number of outlets, Curry House (Helmstrasse 11, 91054, Erlangen, Bayern, Deutschland) once again, the venue of choice.
Steve texted to say he was joining me, and to verify the train I was taking. For reasons unknown, this was impossible, t’Internet was not working, A global outage, unglaublich!. As it happened, Steve was on the 12.03 fast train to Erlangen, Hector on the slower 12.07. Steve was waiting at Erlangen Hbf,
A new layout, with extra tables in situ, and the majority occupied, Curry House was busy this Monday lunchtime. Approaching the counter, Mein Host, said hello. He was not here last year, so it has been a while. Good to be recognised.
The Board had extra options, Punjabi Kadhi (€8.50) had to be considered. Which – Kadhi – was this? That it was – Karahi – was clearly stated, followed by:
Not Mutton, not for you!
Indeed, a Vegetable Karahi, and having started the equivalent day last year with an Alu Gobi, bigger Bunkers were required.
Assuming Steve would order his go-to Mutton Madras (€14.90), from somewhere, the Hector announced: Mutton Vindaloo (€13.90).
Mein Host did the double take. What had I done?
Having helped myself to a litre bottle of Fanta (€4.75) from the fridge, time to pay.
The Bill
€18.65 (£16.44) As is the European way, Rice is included.
We took our seats, the food would be brought to the table. As we waited, Steve and I congratulated ourselves, and Die Bahn, for making full use of our Deutschland Ticket. The freedom of an entire nation: regional trains, buses, trams, U Bahn, S Bahn. €58.00 for the month. UK transport has much to learn.
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Mutton Vindaloo
Curry, nothing fancy, with more Basmati than I would manage. Five pieces of Meat, four of these would require cutting into two or even three bits. Three pieces of Potato, so a proper Vindaloo, with – aloo! However, most people associate Vindaloo with an extreme of Spice.
Bloody hell! – no prisoners, this was brutal. Tissue please, further expletives, deleted.
The red-ish Masala certainly had Chilli to the fore. Ginger Strips, but no Whole Spices otherwise, crucially this Masala retained its Flavour as was confirmed by both the Meat and the Potato which had absorbed the Spices before the Masala was tweaked. The Seasoning at Curry House was formerly at legendary levels, thankfully reined in.
Soft Meat, giving of Flavour, a respite from the Masala. Eating this early, taking it slowly, remember, Hector, this is meant to be pleasure.
In some almost perverse way it was, and with the football, later, a day of further suffering loomed.
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Mein Host came over to check all was well. He brought the trio of additives, no I did not need to upgrade the Chilli. The Pickle almost tempted, to transform my Vindaloo into Achari was considered. No, enjoy it as it is.
The piece of Poppadom would never be eaten, I used it as a shovel. And so progress was made, the line drawn in the Rice, the appetite for Curry-Heute was duly sated. Next time, Butter Chicken, aye right.
Mutton Madras
Cumin and Coconut Milk were mentioned on the menu, in addition to declaring this Curry to be a South Indian creation. I initially took the slight Creaminess of the Masala to be Yoghurt, but now we know. I should try this. Steve:
A pleasant dish with just the right amount of spice and heat. There was a reasonable amount of fairly tender meat. Fresh ginger juliennes added a nice finish.
A drizzle – was how Steve latterly described the Ginger Strips.
By the time we departed, only two diners remained, the lunchtime rush over. A farewell to Mein Host.
Bis nachste Jahr.
And so to join the rest of The Company in Forchheim. Just outside the station is another – Curry House – with remarkably similar livery.
Later this evening, Steve and I excused ourselves and found a bar which put on the match for us.
Scotland 4 v 2 Danmark
There ain’t no sanity clause…