Restaurant review: An agreeable rakabdar Gamal Nkrumah samples the marvels of an authentic Indian restaurant in the heart of Cairo dished out at bargain prices I yield to decorum and refrain from licking the plate clean. His food is sensational. He sports an impressive ponytail, exuding the airs of a sagacious guru, and he can certainly bring a new perspective to the task of introducing Egyptians to authentic Indian cuisine. A native of West Bengal, "the longest run communist state in India, and perhaps in the whole world," he complains bitterly with a mischievous glint in his eye. He hails from Kolkata, Calcutta of yesteryear, once the capital of the British Raj. Alas, he cannot serve me chingri malai -- king prawn in coconut curry inside the tropical green fruit, as is the custom in Bengal. "No coconuts in Cairo". Contemporary Cairene connoisseurs are considerably more adventurous in their tastes than their ancestors. Despite our much vaunted modern catholicity and enthusiasm for all things gustatory, Indian cuisine is sadly still a byword for unpalatable fiery concoctions among many Egyptians. "There is a misconception about Indian food in Egypt. Not all the dishes of India are fiery hot," Executive Director PJ Bhattacharyya of Nawab, an Indian restaurant that opened eight months ago in Zamalek, or PJB as he prefers to be called, has a lot on his plate. Reaching out to an Egyptian clientele without compromising the tenets of Indian cooking is a challenge Bhattacharyya is more than willing to devote himself to. I ask Bhattacharyya to name the defining ingredients of Indian cuisine. Garam masala, the poignant amalgam of coriander, cumin, cardamom, cinnamon, cloves, mace, peppercorns and bay leaf -- to identify but the most basic ingredients -- is the quintessential progenitor of any authentic North Indian dish. Indeed, many North Indian culinary delights are quite restrained in flavour, he assures me. North Indian delicacies have long provided compelling evidence that the Muslim Mogul aristocracy of North India feasted on a cuisine that never recognised national boundaries. They hailed from Central Asia, Iran and the Arab world and they encountered the strict vegetarianism of most of their Hindu subjects. Today, whatever their religion, most Indians toss whole spices in aromatic oils so they crackle and toast releasing a pungent and enticing fragrance that tease the taste buds. "Try the tamarind chutney and mint, podina raita. They are the perfect condiments to fish tandoor," PJB suggests. The fish was perfectly cooked and flawlessly turned out -- an inviting warm orange on the outside and flaky snowy flesh inside. Memories of Madras meen kolambu (tamarind fish curry) come in aromatic lamb dish with the tender meat to mind. Kashmiri Roganjosh, cooked in yoghurt and tomatoes, came next. The lamb couldn't have been more tender or have packed more flavour. Prawn Maharani is a royal delicacy. The dal Nawab is very imperial, too. I can't recall when such a formerly unprepossessing space in Zamalek has been converted into such a congenial, intimate setting. It was once Italian, I believe. Then Japanese, I gather. Now it is Nawab, Indian pure and simple. It has an easy-going atmosphere that is most enjoyable. It is also a clever commercial idea. It takes no time for the menu to reappear with a flick of PJB's finger. His is a copious menu, special brunches at weekends, pack lunches and dinners for the expatriate Indian community in Cairo. There is not a morsel left on our plates. I turn down the dessert menu, but my companion opts for rabri, a milk pudding with the milk reduced to a pulp over hours of slow cooking and glazed with almond, pistachio, chestnut and walnut. I for one am pleased that Bhattacharyya has settled in Cairo. After a stint in Lebanon and a long sojourn in Dubai where he met his Lebanese wife, he moved to Egypt. As in his gastronomic tastes, Bhattacharyya is at ease with a wide range of religious beliefs. He adores the Lebanese kibbeh nayeh, a misnomer, he insists because the supposedly ground raw meat is actually cooked. I wondered what his Hindu compatriots would make of this. "But you are restrained in your meat intake?" I venture. "Philosophically speaking, you are right," he replies nonchalantly. The palate rejoices, the mind revels. Nawab 21B Bahgat Ali Street Zamalek Tel: 2736 0433 Dinner for two: LE200
