Butter chicken, photograph from roboppy on Flickr It says something about how far we've come as a food nation when you feel like you have to apologize for eating chicken makhani. Butter chicken is so ubiquitous that it's kind of become the crab rangoon of Indian food, the difference being that, at least from what I’ve read, it's actually a real Punjabi dish and not some Americanized bastardization. Though, from what I’ve learned about food origins, the copious amounts of cream and butter in this dish suggest it is an American- or European-influenced invention. But then again, who cares? What’s important is when done right, it tastes good. Guilt aside, for eating like a relative dilettante, I've been getting my...
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Indian food has gotten its gourmet due with Tabla in New York and, maybe not quite as luxuriantly, but quite aptly, with Marigold and Veerasway in Chicago. Pakistani food, though, not so much. It seems the only place to score the tasty bits from Karachi and Lahore in Chicago is at no-frills cabbie joints. On the other hand, as a frequenter of such places, I can’t really complain too much because when I find a good one, I never have to fight for a seat. Last night, I found myself at one such place, Bismillah, a Ravenswood cabbie joint. Due to the red and white draperies shrouding all the windows, the place looked like it was closed. Fortunately, I dropped...
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It seems like every year one of my favorite Pakistani restaurants burns down. Two years ago it was Khan BBQ, my favorite spot to grab green chili slathered charcoal tandoor fired chicken boti. The fire turned what was once a dingy smoky cabbie joint, thick with smoke from poor ventilation, into a relatively elegant peach colored banquet hall with a chandelier that would be at home in the Taj Mahal. Last year, apparently due to faulty wiring, my other go-to spot, Sabri Nihari, burned down. Unlike Khan BBQ, the new incarnation, a narrow El car-wide corridor of a restaurant outfitted with more mirrors than a ballet studio, is a step down from the old, pure white Liberace-like garishness of the...
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Chicken boti at Khan BBQ When looking for serious ethnic spots, I find if you're the only white anglo dude in the joint, you're probably in the right place. Khan BBQ, on Chicago’s Devon street—a strip of Pakistani, Indian and orthodox Jewish bakeries, restaurants, and clothing shops—is one of those places. It shouldn't be, as I and a few others have written about the perfume of coriander from the tandoors, the puffy stacks of Naan bread, and the grilled succulent meat over the last couple of years. Yet, last week when I stopped by for a bite, the dining room was filled with the usual smattering of cabbies and Pakistani families....
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Ed Levine made ethnic and cheap eats safe for America, or at least New Yorkers, anyway. In some ways, his seminal work, New York Eats, put pastrami and pizza on the same table as foie and truffles. It's precisely why I've been excited to contribute to this site, as my personal philosophy is that haute cuisine and the antiquated starred review system panders to people who are more likely to equate the cost of a meal with the quality of a meal, the same people who shove food in their mouth but never taste it, the folks rocking mediocre Cristal because that's what Jay Z clued them in to. I believe that the Italian beef sandwich should be as vaunted...
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