The homemade curry at the Amara Hotel foodcourt is absolutely fiery. If Life of Pi can make you believe in God, then this curry will surely send you to meet your maker.
The heat doesn’t hit you right away. It’s only after you’ve gone beyond the point of no return that this cunning gravy starts pouring hot coals on your tongue. The taste builds up in layers. The tongue is duped into thinking it’s harmless and by the time it wakes up with a start, your goose and most of the inside of your mouth are well and truly cooked. This is bringing the phrase “an acquired taste” to a whole new level.
As if the pain isn’t bad enough, you start sweating profusely and yelping like a wet seal, using up someone else’s tissue paper because you didn’t have the foresight to come equipped with a towel before your volcanic adventure. I suggest you have buckets of iced water on hand to plunge your head in, just in case.
The irritating thing about this particular foodcourt is its obsession with disposable utensils. Styrofoam bowls and plates are fine. They keep the food warm and prevent the screeching-of-forks-on-glass/metal/plastic-plates-experience that has caused many a diner to chew through his tongue. Plastic utensils, however, are unacceptable, especially when the user is currently semi-incapacitated by a searing pain emanating predominantly from his oral cavity. And so, with quivering hands, I attempt to dice the chicken up into bite-sized pieces. I’m sure that most will understand that cutting chicken up with plastic utensils is like walking through a minefield. Shrapnel (or flying fork heads) is a constant threat so you have to tread very very carefully. I start scraping gingerly at my chicken. This results in a pile of meat that looks like it’s been freshly butchered with a pile driver, leaving me slightly disappointed but glad to be alive.
There really isn’t a point to all this except to warn potential curry connoisseurs of the dangers of this particular outlet. If you would like to continue enjoying the services of your taste buds, then I gravely discourage you from tasting the fish curry for legend claims that it is twice as hot.
The heat doesn’t hit you right away. It’s only after you’ve gone beyond the point of no return that this cunning gravy starts pouring hot coals on your tongue. The taste builds up in layers. The tongue is duped into thinking it’s harmless and by the time it wakes up with a start, your goose and most of the inside of your mouth are well and truly cooked. This is bringing the phrase “an acquired taste” to a whole new level.
As if the pain isn’t bad enough, you start sweating profusely and yelping like a wet seal, using up someone else’s tissue paper because you didn’t have the foresight to come equipped with a towel before your volcanic adventure. I suggest you have buckets of iced water on hand to plunge your head in, just in case.
The irritating thing about this particular foodcourt is its obsession with disposable utensils. Styrofoam bowls and plates are fine. They keep the food warm and prevent the screeching-of-forks-on-glass/metal/plastic-plates-experience that has caused many a diner to chew through his tongue. Plastic utensils, however, are unacceptable, especially when the user is currently semi-incapacitated by a searing pain emanating predominantly from his oral cavity. And so, with quivering hands, I attempt to dice the chicken up into bite-sized pieces. I’m sure that most will understand that cutting chicken up with plastic utensils is like walking through a minefield. Shrapnel (or flying fork heads) is a constant threat so you have to tread very very carefully. I start scraping gingerly at my chicken. This results in a pile of meat that looks like it’s been freshly butchered with a pile driver, leaving me slightly disappointed but glad to be alive.
There really isn’t a point to all this except to warn potential curry connoisseurs of the dangers of this particular outlet. If you would like to continue enjoying the services of your taste buds, then I gravely discourage you from tasting the fish curry for legend claims that it is twice as hot.
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