Another Indian food post

The Indian food that I cook tends to taste like Western food with Indian spicing. Somehow, I haven’t got the boldness of touch to make it taste really…well, Indian. I am proud of my nutty golden dhal, tangy tandoori chicken, and the freshness and liveliness of my fish curry. They are popular and interesting dishes. Yet, from the 6 months that I spent traveling in India, and now from fabulous pre-packaged vegetarian meals imported from India, I know that real Indian food has another dimension, possibly being that of being completely so thoroughly spiced that the raw ingredient and spicing are unified. Even Indian restaurants in the UK and in Australia don’t do this for me. Once, a tandoori chicken in a Punjabi restaurant in Tooting, South London, knocked me for six. I remember a thali that I also had in a Tooting vegetarian restaurant. Keith Floyd on India also touched on the real thing – his biriyani topped with silver leaf is something that I would pay very good money to eat. However, that is it. Only memories and packaged meals presently remind me of the real thing. Otherwise, I am at the mercy of my own cooking, recipes and restaurants which only hint at the reality. I am not sure why this is.