Rent a Caravan

The weekend had quite an Asian feel to it. First of all the Indian cricket team did a job on England at the Oval, a gig I had to turn down on Friday, due to work commitments (yes really). The thought of fish and chips and champagne did have a certain ring to it but unfortunately the number 12 shirt had to go to somebody else.

The match was, therefore, followed on teletext, the internet and test match special (TMS) on BBC Radio. England were always struggling to win after losing the toss, and yesterday the match ended in a draw giving the Indians a 1-0 series win.

I suspect a few of them would have like the match to finish inside three days so they could have taken themselves to the London Mela, billed as an Asian Glastonbury, which took place on Sunday in Gunnersbury Park. Her indoors and I wandered along to see what was what.

I was not sure what to expect although I did anticipate that the food would be conker and a few sitar's would be in evidence. I was spot on on both counts.

The amazing rotating barbecue certainly took centre stage and rather outdid the traditional rack and cardboard approach of the old school. They both produced excellent food though, and the smells drifting over West London were mouth watering.

There was an interesting arts and crafts market and shoes and clothes stalls had made their way up the road from Southall and were doing a brisk trade mostly amongst the Chiswickians I have to say though.

So, what of the music? Well the boy band B Tex were pretty good I thought, as were some of the dance groups on the smaller stages.

The sitar players just sat there and did their own thing, I guess they are the Asian equivalent of Leonard Cohen or Mike Oldfields Tubular Bells. Music to zzz to.

The main stage had the big name Asian bands playing and seemed to get the crowd going, although it was mostly the chaps who did the dancing. They do suffer from the British band malaise though in that they all seem to sound the same......put a collection of songs by Razerlight, The Kooks, Twang, The Killers The Arctic Monkeys, The Kaiser Chiefs and a few others together and they would be very samey. The Scissor Sisters greatest hits album has had to be delayed as they only have one track for it so far!!

So definitely worth a visit but whats this dagger business all about

.....hells grannies Indian style?

Dastardly and Muttley

I was out in Brick Lane at the weekend, a marvellous collection of neon lights which celebrate the culinary delights of the local Bangladeshi community. The restaurants stretch as far as the eye can see , and the pukka wallahs stand outside every establishment trying to entice locals and tourists alike into their curry house. It was huge fun.

As I had walked my wife round half of Shoreditch, however, she was not best pleased we had past the turnoff twice without going down it. I was fortunate, therefore, to be able to offer her a seat in a traditional East End boozer, The Spitalfields Arms. Here I was presented with my beer drinking nightmare as they had both London Pride and Doom Bar on tap. Doom won , as I can get Pride anywhere these days, and a fine drop it was particularly as it had to travel all the way from Newquay.

While drinking, we discussed the range of 'Little Asias' we now have at our disposal. The Rusholme curry mile on the outskirts of Manchester is by far the biggest collection of curry houses I have seen, and Birmingham has its own Balti Boulevard in Sparkbrook courtesy of the large Kashmiri population who live there. The Birmingham outlets are mostly BYO but I suspect the restaurants all own the offie next door to ensure maximum revenue!!

Closer to West London of course is Southall with its varied and excellent curry houses, Ritas Cafe being one of my favourites, and Ealing has a few goodies as well. I remember in my student days going into Whitechapel on a Wednesday evening and always having chicken on the bone, as it was 50p cheaper. That seems to be a option no longer offered in most places.

So, where did we end up eating? Well our first choice, the Monsoon, reminded me of Groucho Marx great expletive, 'I would never join a club which had me as a member' as the place was populated with the East End equivalent of the post rugby crowd out for a lively time. So we moved to the Chat, a bit off piste, but well regarded. Sadly as we got there the chef had a dippy fit and walked out so no chance of food there then!! Third choice was a very pleasant Southern Indian outlet where we feasted well on the usual diet of too many main courses and an over abundance of sides......but it all got dusted off.

Now, if I were to stand for, and be elected, Mayor of London, one of my pledges would be to rid London of pigeons. This is an action which I think would be a great vote winner, and its importance to Londoners was brought home to me when I awoke the next morning to find my car once again covered in the remains of the pigeon equivalent of a fruit vindaloo and special fried rice.

This gave me an idea. Curry houses were oft thought to be responsible for procuring cats and dogs off the street to embellish their dishes with. Isn't it high time that they started to turn their attention to the vast pigeon population and by so doing start to maintain their supply chain in case a new epidemic of bird flu hits the UK and wipes out our chickens. I am sure the residents of tree lined streets in Manchester, Birmingham and London would be delighted to see the little blighters exterminated in this way, and with a bit of Massala sauce you would never tell the difference.

Which got me thinking, why do you never see a baby pigeon, or Squab to give it its correct name?