WRITING CULTURE 2012: Film, Food & Beyond

Still having an issue with the photo sizes, will upload when I can

Bamiyan Afghani Restaurant satisfies the desire for an exotic experience but unlike some restaurants that manage to provide a festive atmosphere without sacrificing the quality of dining fare, Bamiyan does not.

As a result of war, the mention of Afghanistan conjures images of poppy fields, political unrest, violence and death – not of a delicious exotic cuisine. These are powerful images to push aside prior to a dining experience. Reluctantly, I set out with a group of colleagues to Bamiyan at 358 Third Avenue. Immediately upon entering, the city’s grayness was replaced with bright pink walls and maroon velvet draperies. We were seated immediately by our friendly waitress at table by a wall of windows. Decorative ceramic tiles, small statues, artwork and soft music transported us to faraway lands.

We were the only diners at the time, but at night Bimiyan accommodates large parties and tables socialize with one another. This is a far cry from my prior apprehension that our table would end up discussing world politics.

Afghan cuisine is a fusion of ancient dishes influenced by the multi-cultural major cities such as Kabul. It reminds me of a mixture of Moroccan and Indian dishes. Exotic spices, mint, coriander, saffron, cilantro and cardamom are ground directly onto braised meats (kebabs) or cooked into stews and casseroles. similarites are all over the table. Bread (Naan) is similar to Indian breads and yogurt and sour cottage cheese made from sheep or goats’ milk. Nuts and dried fruit find their way into the rich sauces much like Indian and Moroccan dishes.

My favorite part of the meal was an appetizer, Fesenjan ($7.95), tender pieces of chicken cooked with walnuts and pomegranate juice. This dish is difficult to describe since I have never tasted anything like it. The Fesenjan was served with flakey homemade bread which we completely devoured.

My main entrée was Quorma Baunjaun with Lamb ($16.95), too-small pieces of lamb with stewed eggplant, onions and tomatoes buried deep in a creamy spiced yogurt sauce. Both dishes were tasty but disappointing in the ratio of meat to sauce. We each were served a huge plate of white rice with our entrees which we covered with the overflowing sauces.

I found the Bareh (lamb kabobs $16.95) a bit dry but I enjoyed a pasta dish with meat called Asheh Gooshti ($11.95). It was sweet and tangy but the pasta was overcooked, and again the dish was swimming in sauce. My waning enthusiasm was restored by the yummy coconut cream coffee ($3.50) I had instead of dessert.

Bamiyan provides a memorable dining room to enjoy unexceptional food.

(Pic:Steve McCurry)

On the corner of an indistinct street, tucked away behind the food trucks and bodegas that thrive off the cash strapped hustle and bustle of Baruch student life is Bamiyan, Murray Hill’s own little piece of Persia. The restaurant named after an area in northern Afghanistan famous for its large limestone cliff Buddhas opened in 1993 and is currently run by two brothers, one a former Afghan Supreme Court judge.

On the day we visited, it was 4.30 and unsurprisingly almost empty. Despite the decorative iron décor that surrounds the façade and the mosaic laden entrance as you head in through the front entrance, the place is an un intrusive vision amongst its bland neighbors.

Once inside, we are immediately greeted by the sole waitress who showed us cheerily towards our table by the window. The relaxing sounds of south Asian music, providing the perfect aural back drop to the myriad of Afghani maps, Persian rugs and art work that adorn the exposed brick and wood paneling. The vibe could be described as rustic. It’s as homely and authentic as I can imagine (having never been to Afghanistan) but the cracked paint on the walls suggest there may have been more profitable days in its almost twenty year history.

Bamiyan serves what is describes as ‘traditional Afghan cooking’ which if like me you are unfamiliar with what that is, translates to; lots of subtly spiced meat choices that come with rice, in particular chicken, minced beef and lamb, an excellent range of vegetarian dishes, several curries (lamb, chicken, seasonal fish and shrimp) and kebabs (kebobs), plus a choice of 9 teas including one with the customary Afghan blend of milk, sugar, cardomon and rose petals called Shir-Chay.

I chose to start by cleansing my palette with some green tea with ginger at $3.95 This delicious and comforting drink came piping hot in a beautiful silver pot for one within minutes.

As an appetizer, the table ordered the Fesenjan $8.95, a type of thick Persian stew made with tender boneless chicken and an appealing sweet and sour flavor, thanks to the presence of walnuts and pomegranate juice. As unimpressive as stews often are to the eye, the unique combination of ingredients in this dish were a delight to savor and easily shared amongst the table, helped along by a generous portion of fresh bread that we used to scoop up the satisfying sauce.

For the entre I chose Kabuli Palow with lamb $16.95. A rather uninspired decision on my part as there was no sauce at all and besides the rice (I opted to have the white basmati rice instead of the usual brown baked rice topped with shredded carrots and raisons) the dish simply came with a liberal pinch of onion on the side.

The lamb chunks didn’t disappoint however and were as juicy, succulent and expertly prepared as the chicken had been but there was no hiding from how safe and yes, boring it was. I suspect the local gyro food truck nearby could possibly have given this dish a superior run for half the money but the Mantoo, a lasagne-looking steamed beef dumpling topped with yogurt and meat sauce ($14.95), was being eagerly enjoyed by my dinner dates.

None of the four desserts including a baklava, home made vanilla ice cream (Malai e) fried dough (Elephants ear) or rice-flour pudding, really took our fancy, so we ended the lunch there, each of us vowing to return to try some of the more unusual items on the menu.

Like to indulge your tongue in spice? When my three friends choose to have chicken tikka masala, chicken saag and shrimp curry, I dare to go for chicken vindaloo at the Chote Nawab restaurant. It is a Goan special chicken curry with red chilies and vinegar that makes the curry really spicy and juicy. While I order the chicken vindaloo ($9.00) from the lunch menu, the host alarms me about the dangerous level of spice. As a Bengali, raised on spicy food, I think that I will be able to handle the spice. After the first bite of the creamy chicken vindaloo, my tongue and eyes are burning with saliva and tears. However, I could not resist eating the scrumptious chicken vindaloo because of its authentic Indian flavor and piquant aroma.

The main course, chicken vindaloo, is served with small pots of snowy basmati rice, thick brown dal, and freshly made hot garlic naan. When the waiters serve the vindaloo curry in a pot, I know it is going to be a spicy rock star from its red color. Light steam from the dish is flying all over the table and the smell takes me away to Kolkata, India where I visited last summer. Curios to explore the Indian culture, I went to Kolkata, and had the opportunity to taste a spicy chicken dish similar to the vindaloo. The small chicken pieces of vindaloo are so softly hugged by the red chili pastes that the pieces blush. It is the perfect curry during the cold to make you feel warm much like a hot cup of coffee on a gloomy rainy day.

Besides the vindaloo, the four month old Chote Nawab is a great place for lunch. When all the Indian restaurants in the Curry Hill area on Lexington Avenue are packed during lunch hour, mostly Nepali waitresses are ready to open the door with big smiles on their faces for the guests at Chote Nawab. They are ready to serve its delectable food within 15 minutes after the order is placed. After sitting at the corner table and feeling thirsty, I notice that glasses full of water are already on the table.

While you are waiting for your food to come, you will not be bored by looking at the decor and paintings in the restaurants. Traditional Indian touches in the paintings make the atmosphere of the Chote Nawab really connected to its root. Chote meaning young child and Nawab meaning prince, the name of the restaurant represents a young or last prince of a kingdom.  The large and multi-colored wall paintings introduce the ancient Indian king’s rule. Eventually, I explained the theme of the paintings to my friends and this is what I love about Indian restaurants.  They like to create a traditional touch in their décor to reflect the culture. I feel even more special when the owner of the restaurant comes to me and talks in Bengali, because he is from Kolkata, where people speak in Bengali as well. He approaches me in a friendly way to find out how we like the food.

Although ninety percent of American customers may not understand the Bollywood music that is playing in the background, however, you will not feel disturbed by its soft melody. If you would like to enjoy the traditional Indian Tempe experience, Chote Nawab will be a perfect place to visit, with reasonable prices.

As you enter Bamiyan Restaurant on the corner of 26th street and 3rd Avenue of the first questions you find yourself asking is “will I try to be traditional and sit on the floor or will sit at a table be familiar”. I sat at the table because I didn’t want tradition to mess up my back. One of the first things I noticed were the Afghan rugs hanging on the walls throughout the restaurant.  There was also traditional Afghan music playing and the soft flutes were accompanied by strumming guitars which truly let you know you were not in an American restaurant.

I chose to sit at a table in lieu of the floor even thought the low tables look tempting I know my back couldn’t take it

As I sat down, I was greeted by the waitress who had a very pleasant disposition. I found out her name was Namia and she was from Nepal. I wanted to start off with an entree and after perusing the menu I decided on the Fesenjan($8.95) which the menu describes as “sweet and sour tender pieces of boneless chicken with walnuts and pomegranate juice”. I was very curious how walnuts and pomegranate juice could be mixed with chicken.  Namia brought out a basket of bread as well as my entrée and I was told that the bread was traditional Afghan bread and you eat the Fesenjan with it.  The Fesenjan tasted remarkable with the Afghan bread and the sweetness of the pomegranate juice went perfect with the lamb. I didn’t taste the walnuts in the Fesenjan but if they say it was in there then I have to take their word for it.

Afghan Bread

The Fesenjan

For the main course I had Lamb Curry with Basmati rice ($16.95). I was a bit apprehensive about ordering the lamb curry because the description in the menu described it as “lamb sautéed with fresh vegetables, lentils, curry and yogurt”. I didn’t know how yogurt and lentils would taste together but my fears were put to rest once I took the first bite. The lamb was was succulent and the curry and yogurt made a magnificent sauce that only complimented the already robust flavor.

Lamb Curry

Basmati Rice

Namia  asked if I wanted dessert but I had no room left in my stuffed belly, I did  however want to try the Coconut cream coffee I saw on the menu. I’m a big fan of coconut and to think that I could have it in a coffee was really exciting to me and for $3.50 it was no more expensive than a cup of coffee from Starbucks. After my first sip I was in coconut heaven and the coffee was sweetened perfectly as if Namia had known me for years and knew just how I liked it.

Coconut Cream Coffee

I had the pleasure of meeting one of the owners,  Sayed Nader Shah and found out he was political science major like myself. He studied Political Science at Columbia University and his brother  Sayed Ahmad Shah who is the other owner of Bamiyan was once a Supreme Court Judge in Afghanistan.  I inquired about a picture in the back of the restaurant where the VIP dining area is and he told me it symbolized an Afghan story about a father that goes to war without knowing that he has a son. The father and son meet years on the battlefield and not knowing he was his father the son kills him with an arrow.

The owner(Sayed Nader Shah) and I looking very tired, guess this is the life of Ploy Sci majors, not enough sleep but great food. I’ll take it.

The Persian Painting that Sayed explained to me

I  think the owner needs to come out more and converse with the customers, he is truly an interesting man.  I felt the restaurant lacked personality and the only thing that screamed “hey, we’re an Afghan restaurant” was the fact the name was Afghan.  Hanging rugs throughout the place and playing middle eastern music doesn’t distinguish this place from the other Middle Eastern restaurants.  The fact it’s partially owned by a former Afghan Supreme Court Judge definitely does.

I have been a blank slate when it comes to food. Before I moved to this fast-moving city, I kept myself going on diets of hamburgers, Arizona iced teas and canned chili.
Obviously not the best diet.
After moving to this bustling city, I began to experiment with different types of food, starting with the very cultural choice of having a side of pork-fried rice instead of white rice with my orange chicken.
After a few crash test tastings of food, I eventually found myself eating dishes like Tokyo Spicy Curry at the ramen spot near Baruch, Pad Thai with extra peanut sauce and spice at Little Basil, and now finally, I have overcome one of the greater obstacles in my journey: food from Afghanistan.

The restaurant itself was like entering into an adventure of it’s own. The front door is adorned with a tree that seems to branch out and then fall into the patterns constructed from glass tiles.
As I stepped in, a smell of tea and some sort of stew filled my nose. Being that it was only three in the afternoon, we had the place to ourselves. After we sat down, we all ordered our own drinks and dishes.
To start of my foray into the unknown tastes of Afghanistan, I started with a kettle of Shir-Chay.
It is a simple tea, but one that is traditionally drank by most Afghans. The drink is construed from a mix of milk, sugar, cardamom and rose petals.

When I was expecting the drink, the idea of rose petals floating around in my drink did not sound like a possiblity that would be too far off.
I was given a pot and a glass and the server then poured my first glass. I must disclose that I was surprised to find that a liquid that looked like coffee with cream in it came out, sans the rose petals.
The moment that the concoction touched my lips, I was instantly in love. It had a sweet taste that tickled the sense as it went down.

I was surprised by how much that I liked the tea. I finished my first glass and was overtaken by a melancholic feeling, thinking that  I was out of tea. This sadness was wiped from my being once I reach over and lifted the kettle, which shook due to the fluid that took up its interior.
Then came the time to order. i was having quite a lot of trouble deciding, but one must afford me a touch of sympathy due to my lack of cultural know-how.
I may have ventured into new foods schnozz first, but this time I had no previous coaching or encounters with the food.
After some serious soul-searching, I decided to order an Afghani pasta dish called Asheh Gooshi.
The name itself was enough to intimidate the daring food tester in me, but the ingredients cast an allure over me that was impossible to overcome.
The noodles themselves were homemade in the house, and they were topped with a lamb meat sauce combined with a large dose of yogurt sauce.
I continued to sip on my tea until I saw the waitress coming around the bend. Her hands were revealed from behind the walls and I set eyes upon my dish.

The noodles were wide, but thin, and covered with a red and and white sea of sauce with small islands of meat poking out from the top.

To consume such a meal is unheard of in my small tribe of Long Island dwelling compatriots.
The most cultural dish one can find out in the sticks of Farmingville is a small sushi joint that would surely have garnered a “Pending” grade from the department of health.
I dove into the meal, not knowing what exactly to expect from the multi-colored meal, but the moment the first forkful of noodles, meat, and red and white sauces hit my palate, I was hooked.
The dominant taste of the dish was was tangy, due to the yogurt, but once one moved past the initial sour demeanor of the sauce, the flavor of the spiced meat kicks in. All of this was brought together by broad noodles, which had a slightly salty flavor that completed the dish.
Overall, my experience at Bamiyan was one that I left me stunned. The food and drinks were top notch and the prices, although a bit high, were not as bad as they could have been. My impression were that this is some real authentic cuisine, and it is food that is prepared with a strong sense of culture and spice behind behind each meal.

Pulling a pork dumpling out of boiling Miso Broth Credit:Juliya Madorsky

Tired of your old Chinese take out spot? Looking for something new and exciting? Emperor Japanese is the place you need to be then.  This kind of eatery specializes in “shabu shabu” or “hot pot” in English.  Its a style of eating where each patron receives a pot of boiling broth and types of raw meats, vegetables, and a variety of other delicacies to cook right in front of you. And to top it all off, its ALL YOU CAN EAT! What more can you ask for??

Winter is prime time for hot pot in Chinese culture so I was surprised we were seated so quickly. The decor of the restaurant was spacious while still offering an intimate seating arrangement.  Upon entering, you could smell the heavenly scents of different broths and simmering meats all rolled into one tantalizing aroma.

As we sat down, a waiter handed us a menu with boxes next to them and a pen. Simply check off how many orders of which dish you would like and you’re one step closer to food heaven.  I was a kid in a candy store as I rapidly checked off anything I had even the slightest inkling for.  Good thing I had my fellow classmates to keep me in check!

Raw Beef strips Credit: Elizabeth Griffin

I ordered the Szechuan broth (Soup choice is CRITICAL) and several orders of beef and chicken strips, fish balls, tofu, pork dumplings, prawns, bean sprouts, and (it wouldn’t be a Chinese meal without) bokchoy.  The dishes came out and they were immediately immersed in their steamy baths.  The meats are not previously marinated so once they are cooked they take on the flavors of the soup, not overwhelmingly so which was a pleasant surprise.  The meats were juicy, the vegetables delectable, and the tofu…tofuey! (its a good thing)

Emperor Japanese also provides a sauce station if you desire a fuller flavor for your dishes.   There are a medley of sauces to choose from such as hoisin sauce, chili paste, and garlic sauce to name a few.  Needless to say, I took full advantage of the dipping plates we were provided and loaded up on every sauce they had!

The night wasn’t as perfect as it could be however. The place got real crowded real quick which made it almost impossible to hail a waiter for more food or even the check. Larger tables would have been welcomed as our table filled with dishes rather quickly as well.  Despite these minor hindrances, Emperor Japanese is a place to behold and is worthy of its royal namesake.

After watching many Korean dramas, cooking my own food at a restaurant was always something that I wanted to try and I’m glad that I finally did it.  While there were some things I was not satisfied with, I got a great enough experience to want to try this at other restaurants.

The restaurant was called Emperor Japanese Tapas Shabu Restaurant and it was located in Chinatown. There were a lot of people in the restaurant and it looked like people were enjoying themselves. The first thing you see when you sit down is a piece of paper where you write down the quantities of the type of meat, soup and vegetables you want. You place the soup on top of the table, which has an integrated hot plate to heat the soup. As the meat is brought to the table, customers dump everything in the soup to cook and then place them on a  small plate to eat.

The food was okay, really nothing to write home about. The beef slices were good but somewhat muffled by the taste of the miso soup I was dumping it in. After putting the beef slice in my mouth, I not only got the taste of the soup but also the taste of the juicy meat, which reminded me of pork fat.

The King Prawns on the other hand was something to write home about. While they looked like gray slugs on the plate, they came out looking beautifully pink and delicious  out of the hot pot.  The feel of them in my mouth gave me a mixed feeling of bliss and disgust. Bliss, because they were succulent and juicy. Disgust, because I could feel the  small legs of the prawns while I was chewing them. However, it is that typical disgust that can be put aside if the food tastes good. Like when i’m told I’m eating rats when I eat rib tips from Chinese restaurants and I roll my eyes and say, “but they taste so good!”. Sorry prawns, but I have to eat you.

However, the smell of the food is a huge part of the reason this restaurant is just “okay.”

The smell is overwhelming. It somehow rubs off on your clothes so that I could still smell the food on me when I got home. While I loved the prawns and the chicken slices, I don’t want to walk around smelling like them. I also thought that the restaurant had very limited space, which made it uncomfortable to cook our food.  I was reluctant to try most of the sauce that my classmates made because I was afraid of reaching over and spilling something.  Given the nature of this restaurant and how much people have to move around, space should have been the first priority. However, eating with my classmates and being distracted by our conversation, diluted this experience…until i got traumatized.

As it always happens when I try something new, I got traumatized.  After cooking and taking out a chicken dumpling–which my classmate claimed was delicious and actually told me that it was cooked— I discovered that it was not cooked at all after putting it in my mouth and tasting the raw ingredients inside.  The taste was so disgusting and cold that it felt like I was tasting  raw chicken with blood and everything. I cannot emphasize to readers enough, let the food cook for awhile.  This was a horrendous experience and after that I only ate the meat and rice. However, do not let my classmate’s mistake and the consequences, put you off this place.

Overall, the atmosphere of the restaurant was one of busy energy, which I loved. What made this restaurant great for me was not so much the food but the experience of trying something new. While I was ecstatic about everything in the moment, looking back the food was good but not anything special. The service was great and efficient but they didn’t even take credit cards. Yet, it felt like I was home cooking with friends which is just as  important as discovering new exotic tastes.

Upon entering Emperor Japanese (96 Bowery St, NYC) I got the feeling of a very homey and even communal experience, in a good way. This place is not ragged or run down like most small mom-and-pop joints I have, for various reasons, landed in. There is a certain hustle and bustle, humming with indecipherable conversations all around.

One menu is handed to each group. Going green? Probably not. I was not bothered by this, however, those that intend on ordering less or not sharing the bill might be, as unconsumed orders are charged extra, per lb. You can always order more though, so take it easy.

Each diner is seated by an electric hot plate which will hold the broth of their choice (see menu) at their desired temperature. Patrons use a slotted ladle to submerge the various raw proteins and vegetables into the flavored broth, to be cooked.  The menu is varied from what most people would consider “regular” to “exotic”, from Chicken to Pig Blood.

I had Shrimp (whole, shell on), sliced chicken, sliced beef, fish tofu, fried tofu, chicken dumplings, Bok Choy, Bean Sprouts and Green Tea.  To accompany them I chose the spicy Szechuan broth, soy sauce with scallion, Hoisin sauce and sweet chili sauce. There is an empty bowl and white rice provided if you choose to drink the broth. Everything was very flavorful except the broth. It was spicy, which should be obvious by the name, but lacked depth, was under seasoned and especially deprived of salt.

The experience is interactive and personalized. I found the price to be reasonable but not cheap and assume they make bank in the winter time. If you are prepared to smell like multiple types of food to please your eyes and belly then I recommend you pay them a visit (easily accessible by MTA: B,D,N,Q,J,Z and M15,M22,M103).