Well, it is according to one of Scotland's most experienced Curryistas, editor of a national newspaper and a man who in his youth used to import spices from the Indian subcontinent to satisfy his desire to create the perfect bhuna.
And last night, in Dundee's Perth road, I had what I can only describe as the best curry I've ever had in Scotland. And that's in 35 years of curry consumption. In Wolverhampton, back in the early 80s, I had a truly wondrous tandoori, before the clay oven had assumed ubiquity; In Durban, South Africa, I had a superb lunch in what was then generally regarded as the best Asian restaurant in Africa.
But I've never been to Goa, and there's no question that The Malabar in Dundee is heavily influenced by Goanese styles. There is, for example, large amounts of fish on the menu. And, for the first time in my experience of Indian food, offal - the chilli chicken livers were astounding, and the lamb's kidneys with aubergine completely magnificent.
If any of this is sounding familiar, then it may be time to mention two magic words - they are 'Gunga' and 'Din'. Back in the 1970s, the Gunga Din, also in Perth Road, was regarded by many as Scotland's top Asian eatery - notably by Billy Connolly. The Malabar sees the triumphant return from retirement of Jacob, legendary proprietor of the Gunga Din, a man who trained as a chef in some of London's top hotels and was on fine form last night.
There are some interesting absences at The Malabar - roti, yes, but no nan bread - and it's not the place for those craving the familiar Vindaloo-pakora sandwich. But after last night's meal I was conscious of having experienced something very rare - a truly exciting, satisfying, inspring meal. It was, I have to say, almost spiritual and certainly emotional. Though that may have had something to do with the beer consumed earlier in the Phoenix and Mennie's.
It's not plush, it's starkly lit and the tables are formica topped. But it's the best in Scotland, no question whatsoever.
Wednesday, December 14, 2005
Saturday, December 10, 2005
The Libertine will have Tea and Toast
The Libertine will have Tea and Toast
Take one whisky, it's good for the heart
Now here's a reasonable place to start:
A dead distillery in the central belt
Smooth and silky
Hardly felt
Life is lush, life is junk
I've been all at sea and I've been sunk
Lived like a libertine, lived like a monk
Can't live sober and I can't live drunk
Islay's calling me home through the storm
I'm looking for something potent and warm
Pour a Lagavulin and knock it back
Feeling like I'm having a heart attack
She put me to bed, I passed out on the floor
Turned me on my side so I wouldn't snore
Woke up dying for a cup of tea
I swear it's the only liquid for me
Life is lush, life is junk
I've been all at sea and I've been sunk
Lived like a libertine, lived like a monk
Can't live sober and I can't live drunk
Copyright Tom Morton/Zetland Phonographic Industries 2005. All rights reserved.
Take one whisky, it's good for the heart
Now here's a reasonable place to start:
A dead distillery in the central belt
Smooth and silky
Hardly felt
Life is lush, life is junk
I've been all at sea and I've been sunk
Lived like a libertine, lived like a monk
Can't live sober and I can't live drunk
Islay's calling me home through the storm
I'm looking for something potent and warm
Pour a Lagavulin and knock it back
Feeling like I'm having a heart attack
She put me to bed, I passed out on the floor
Turned me on my side so I wouldn't snore
Woke up dying for a cup of tea
I swear it's the only liquid for me
Life is lush, life is junk
I've been all at sea and I've been sunk
Lived like a libertine, lived like a monk
Can't live sober and I can't live drunk
Copyright Tom Morton/Zetland Phonographic Industries 2005. All rights reserved.
Thursday, December 08, 2005
To The Radiocroft!
So, farewell to the Barn of Bannocks, which was handy for the hoose, but cold, damp ( despite desperate measures involving storage heaters and three convectors) and echoey. Having retrieved our old crofthouse from an unfortunate rental, we're in the midst of converting it into a bookshop (of which more in due course) with a couple of spare bedrooms which can be used by guests. Notably my sister and her family, who are coming for New Year and my 50th birthday (Hogmanay, if you're interested).
So now the Tom Morton Show comes live from The Radiocroft - in other words, the boxroom in the crofthouse. It's warm, cosy, sounds better than the Barn of B and has a window. All things considered, I think it's an improvement.
Saturday, November 26, 2005
The breeze of bad luck: another crash
Home by the skin of my teeth, having taken a notion to take the Wednesday boat north rather than the Friday one I was booked on. And just as well, given that all NorthLink sailings between Aberdeen and Shetland were cancelled on Thursday and Friday, due to the appalling weather. I was aboard the Hrossey, along with a Volvo estate packed to the gunnels with bargain beer, biscuits, carpets, wine and paint, arriving at 7.25 on Thursday morning. And that was the last freight or passenger boat to get into Shetland until....well, I'm guessing some time on Sunday. Which means there will be damn all on the supermarket shelves. Still, we have the beer, wine and biscuits.
I was just settling into my premier-cru cabin (free chocolates, water, coffee and telly) on Wednesday night when my Voicemail went off. It was Susan, a crackly message from the roadside between Brae and Hillswick. "Now, I don't want you to panic, I'm all right, but..." Good grief.
In February, Susan was seriously injured in a head-on accident on the main road between Lerwick and Brae. The driver who hit her was killed. Susan was driving a long wheelbase Land Rover Defender which was destroyed. Every single alloy wheel was shattered and the vehicle itself bent, its front end totalled. The strength of the Defender's beam chassis probably saved Susan's life, but the primitive interior (no airbags) caused a skull fracture and numerous other lesser injuries.
I've never written about this before, incidentally, out of respect for the other driver who died, and his family. But what has just happened has made it kind of difficult to keep quiet...
Anyway, that November night, my 14-year-old son James and I happened to be driving south to catch the boat for Aberdeen. I was booked to take part in a big Tsunami appeal concert in Dundee, and James was coming along for the ride. There was a line of stationary traffic just south of Voe, clearly some kind of accident....I'll never forget walking along the road, past car after car, to see if I could help, and seeing in the twilight that huge, smashed Land Rover, twisted, bent, and step by step seeing it glint maroon...hell's teeth, that's the same colour as our Land Rover. It can't be...
But it was.
I'm not going to dwell on that night. Suffice to say that Susan has staged a remarkable recovery, returned to driving quickly and with no ill effects, insisting on a replacement car that was as substantial as the Defender, but fitted with airbags. An imbecilic or deliberately obstructive insurance company meant we didn't (still don't) have the money for anything equivalent, so I picked up an old Jeep Grand Cherokee (with typical American full-on safety equipment) from eBay. Thirsty, but comfortable, rugged and airbagged to the hilt.
And that, on Wednesday evening, was what Susan was driving when she was hit, yet again, head on, by a driver overtaking another car. Again, it was a high-speed collision. This time, thank God, no-one was seriously hurt (Susan, alone in the car, suffered whiplash and bruising). The Jeep, which had just been the subject of a loving restoration, was comprehensively smashed.
But the Grand Cherokee, despite being nine years old, is a much more modern design than the essentially 1950s Land Rover. It crumpled everywhere but the passenger compartment, all the airbags went off, and Susan was able to step out, unutterably furious at the loss of a car she had grown to love.
This was what I was not supposed to panic over.
Anyway, I'm back, she's OK - a bit shocked and sore - and this morning I went to Jim's Garage, who recovered the wreck, to look at the Jeep and retrieve some belongings. And, just as I almost cried when I saw that crushed and broken Land Rover, I felt tears prickle at my eyes when I saw the Jeep, broken open to the elements, those lovely leather seats all wet.
And I have to say, as someone who loves cars and motorbikes, who has been infatuated with the internal combustion engine since I was old enough to enunciate my first words ("T'iumph 'Enown" apparently), I am suddenly so sickened with speed, with the celebration of it. And especially with the moronic, thick-ear posturing you get on the likes of Top Gear. I am nauseated by the kind of person who jokes about Land Rovers not needing airbags - "we have other cars", is the punchline, comedy fans. I have the kids with me today in the old Volvo (no airbags) and I am driving....well, I'm driving with the implications of speed, of collision, in my head. Always.
Must stop now. There are children to collect, there is shopping to do, if I can find anything in the Co-op to buy. And I'm going to take it easy on the way home.
I was just settling into my premier-cru cabin (free chocolates, water, coffee and telly) on Wednesday night when my Voicemail went off. It was Susan, a crackly message from the roadside between Brae and Hillswick. "Now, I don't want you to panic, I'm all right, but..." Good grief.
In February, Susan was seriously injured in a head-on accident on the main road between Lerwick and Brae. The driver who hit her was killed. Susan was driving a long wheelbase Land Rover Defender which was destroyed. Every single alloy wheel was shattered and the vehicle itself bent, its front end totalled. The strength of the Defender's beam chassis probably saved Susan's life, but the primitive interior (no airbags) caused a skull fracture and numerous other lesser injuries.
I've never written about this before, incidentally, out of respect for the other driver who died, and his family. But what has just happened has made it kind of difficult to keep quiet...
Anyway, that November night, my 14-year-old son James and I happened to be driving south to catch the boat for Aberdeen. I was booked to take part in a big Tsunami appeal concert in Dundee, and James was coming along for the ride. There was a line of stationary traffic just south of Voe, clearly some kind of accident....I'll never forget walking along the road, past car after car, to see if I could help, and seeing in the twilight that huge, smashed Land Rover, twisted, bent, and step by step seeing it glint maroon...hell's teeth, that's the same colour as our Land Rover. It can't be...
But it was.
I'm not going to dwell on that night. Suffice to say that Susan has staged a remarkable recovery, returned to driving quickly and with no ill effects, insisting on a replacement car that was as substantial as the Defender, but fitted with airbags. An imbecilic or deliberately obstructive insurance company meant we didn't (still don't) have the money for anything equivalent, so I picked up an old Jeep Grand Cherokee (with typical American full-on safety equipment) from eBay. Thirsty, but comfortable, rugged and airbagged to the hilt.
And that, on Wednesday evening, was what Susan was driving when she was hit, yet again, head on, by a driver overtaking another car. Again, it was a high-speed collision. This time, thank God, no-one was seriously hurt (Susan, alone in the car, suffered whiplash and bruising). The Jeep, which had just been the subject of a loving restoration, was comprehensively smashed.
But the Grand Cherokee, despite being nine years old, is a much more modern design than the essentially 1950s Land Rover. It crumpled everywhere but the passenger compartment, all the airbags went off, and Susan was able to step out, unutterably furious at the loss of a car she had grown to love.
This was what I was not supposed to panic over.
Anyway, I'm back, she's OK - a bit shocked and sore - and this morning I went to Jim's Garage, who recovered the wreck, to look at the Jeep and retrieve some belongings. And, just as I almost cried when I saw that crushed and broken Land Rover, I felt tears prickle at my eyes when I saw the Jeep, broken open to the elements, those lovely leather seats all wet.
And I have to say, as someone who loves cars and motorbikes, who has been infatuated with the internal combustion engine since I was old enough to enunciate my first words ("T'iumph 'Enown" apparently), I am suddenly so sickened with speed, with the celebration of it. And especially with the moronic, thick-ear posturing you get on the likes of Top Gear. I am nauseated by the kind of person who jokes about Land Rovers not needing airbags - "we have other cars", is the punchline, comedy fans. I have the kids with me today in the old Volvo (no airbags) and I am driving....well, I'm driving with the implications of speed, of collision, in my head. Always.
Must stop now. There are children to collect, there is shopping to do, if I can find anything in the Co-op to buy. And I'm going to take it easy on the way home.
Tuesday, November 22, 2005
Mainlanding
Apologies for the absence of new postings, and especially photographs. I have, however, been snapping furiously with my Sony Ericsson pile-of-crap cameraphone (useless, useless keyboard for anyone with normal size hands) and some of those pictures should make their way here soon.
Currently in Aberdeen, following four days in frostbitten Glasgow. Good grief, it was cold, and I was two days into staying at my hotel of choice (another of the large selection of cheap lodgings available in the Sandyford/Finnieston interface) before I realised the heater could be turned up and there were spare blankets in the cupboard.
Great area for bars, cafes and restaurants, the Argyle St/Sauchiehall St/Kelvingrove Park triangle, and there are clear signs that the whole area is on the up and up, property-wise. While the breakfast at The Sandyford Hotel (£35 a night, full Scottish) was pretty good, I liked to head for Beanscene and slurp down an expensive bagel with cream cheese, a latte and a muffin over the papers. Nearby are the proven delights of the Ben Nevis,Mother India (and the associated cafe) Fanny Trollope's bistro, Air Organic, Sisters,The Buttery (bit of a dodgy walk for some) Firebird, The Goat, Stereo, Cafe India and some other, newish places I haven't tried. One place I was absolutely determined to eat in, though was Kokuryo, Scotland's first Korean restaurant, which has received rave reviews. And so, on Saturday, that was where I found myself, eating unidentified things and realising that Korean food seems to increase its spiciness as you move through the various 'courses'.
It was tremendously good. For £12.99 you get three courses, including an unlimited buffet which in its freshness is a world away from the Chinese all-you-can-eat buffets you may be used to. The starters - including miso soup, tempura veg, sushi and barbecued king prawns - were superb, though it must be said that the Korean beer - called Ob - was pretty much modelled on American Budweiser and thus not particularly challenging.
Pudding was beautifully-modelled (carved) fresh fruit, the staff were friendly and keen to educate in the abstruse elements of Korean cookery, and all in all it was an exciting business, encountering a new cuisine.
Afterwards we walked along to King Tuts to see Kathleen Edwards and her band, who were excellent - alas, I only caught one song from the support, Joel Plaskett, but it was so good I bought his album La Di Da. King Tut's is truly a magnificent venue. And air conditioning, even on such a freezing night, proved a fantastic asset. Though some regulars bemoan the absence of the old sweaty ambience.
Last night, though, I was back in Aberdeen and to my eternal culinary shame partook of a Big Mac with large fries. My excuse? I was starving, there's a McDonalds at Asda, and....oh, never mind. I felt great for approximately ten minutes after consuming this monstrosity, then progressively bloated, sick and finally, within two hours, hungry again. I staved off the pangs by going to see, at long last, the Jim Jarmusch movie Broken Flowers ( Not as good as, say Mystery Train or Night on Earth, but like all Jarmusch films, it haunts you), then filled up on apples and a bar of Turkish Delight I found hidden in my briefcase. After which I had the most violently filmic dreams I've experienced in decades. Imagine a cross between The Matrix and Saving Private Ryan. Or on the other hand, don't.
Currently in Aberdeen, following four days in frostbitten Glasgow. Good grief, it was cold, and I was two days into staying at my hotel of choice (another of the large selection of cheap lodgings available in the Sandyford/Finnieston interface) before I realised the heater could be turned up and there were spare blankets in the cupboard.
Great area for bars, cafes and restaurants, the Argyle St/Sauchiehall St/Kelvingrove Park triangle, and there are clear signs that the whole area is on the up and up, property-wise. While the breakfast at The Sandyford Hotel (£35 a night, full Scottish) was pretty good, I liked to head for Beanscene and slurp down an expensive bagel with cream cheese, a latte and a muffin over the papers. Nearby are the proven delights of the Ben Nevis,Mother India (and the associated cafe) Fanny Trollope's bistro, Air Organic, Sisters,The Buttery (bit of a dodgy walk for some) Firebird, The Goat, Stereo, Cafe India and some other, newish places I haven't tried. One place I was absolutely determined to eat in, though was Kokuryo, Scotland's first Korean restaurant, which has received rave reviews. And so, on Saturday, that was where I found myself, eating unidentified things and realising that Korean food seems to increase its spiciness as you move through the various 'courses'.
It was tremendously good. For £12.99 you get three courses, including an unlimited buffet which in its freshness is a world away from the Chinese all-you-can-eat buffets you may be used to. The starters - including miso soup, tempura veg, sushi and barbecued king prawns - were superb, though it must be said that the Korean beer - called Ob - was pretty much modelled on American Budweiser and thus not particularly challenging.
Pudding was beautifully-modelled (carved) fresh fruit, the staff were friendly and keen to educate in the abstruse elements of Korean cookery, and all in all it was an exciting business, encountering a new cuisine.
Afterwards we walked along to King Tuts to see Kathleen Edwards and her band, who were excellent - alas, I only caught one song from the support, Joel Plaskett, but it was so good I bought his album La Di Da. King Tut's is truly a magnificent venue. And air conditioning, even on such a freezing night, proved a fantastic asset. Though some regulars bemoan the absence of the old sweaty ambience.
Last night, though, I was back in Aberdeen and to my eternal culinary shame partook of a Big Mac with large fries. My excuse? I was starving, there's a McDonalds at Asda, and....oh, never mind. I felt great for approximately ten minutes after consuming this monstrosity, then progressively bloated, sick and finally, within two hours, hungry again. I staved off the pangs by going to see, at long last, the Jim Jarmusch movie Broken Flowers ( Not as good as, say Mystery Train or Night on Earth, but like all Jarmusch films, it haunts you), then filled up on apples and a bar of Turkish Delight I found hidden in my briefcase. After which I had the most violently filmic dreams I've experienced in decades. Imagine a cross between The Matrix and Saving Private Ryan. Or on the other hand, don't.
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