Diners at Primo al Pigneto.Credit Gianni Cipriano for The New York Times
Pigneto feels a world away from Rome’s tourist herds and ancient ruins, with a soundtrack of electronic pop music that spills out over sienna-hued courtyards, and nary a souvenir shop in sight. By day, locals shop for produce and sip cappuccinos on tree-filled terraces. At night, crowds of tattooed and stylishly top-knotted 20- and 30-somethings flock to open-air bars and upscale restaurants. Street art, like a metal store gate emblazoned with a Beyoncé-esque superhero and a spaceship, seems like a religion. Hotel chains have yet to venture here. A 10-minute bus ride from the arterial Termini station, Pigneto, Rome’s answer to Bushwick, Brooklyn, is an enclave of cool in the eternal city.
PRIMO AL PIGNETO
The chef Marco Gallotta opened this inviting ode to Italian gastronomy in 2006. Couples linger over plates of inspired pastas, like tagliatelle with green peppers and lamb bacon in a sauce that brings to mind carbonara.
A recent renovation turned this 1940s-era theater into a glossy box of glass and steel. It screens independent Italian films as well as mainstream movies from abroad.
Necci dal 1924.Credit Gianni Cipriano for The New York Times
Known as Bar Necci, this airy bar and restaurant was made famous by the Italian director Pier Paolo Pasolini, who shot parts of his 1961 film “Accattone,” a grimy tribute to peasant culture, here. While it opens at 8 a.m., it’s magical at dusk, when candles dot the multilevel, tree-shaded terrace. Tables fill with young families and couples sipping Negronis and nibbling free aperitivo.
Via Fanfulla da Lodi, 68; 39-06-9760-1552; necci1924.com
CARGO
As dusk falls, Pigneto’s bars come to life, and hordes of boisterous, fashionable young professionals flock to Cargo, which sits in the thick of Pigneto’s two-block-long pedestrian zone. While Cargo calls itself a wine bar and art gallery (a drawing of a corkscrew graces the cover of its drink list), it has a full bar, and art seems secondary to the spirit of revelry.
Cooking at Surjit Food Plaza in Amritsar, India.Credit Kuni Takahashi for The New York Times
Within five minutes of ordering three deluxe thalis at the large and bustling Bharawan da Dhaba in Amritsar, India, a waiter brought us round steel trays filled with our $3 lunch. There were a half-dozen bowls on each, which included spicy chickpeas with a hint of pomegranate powder, the black lentils known as daal and the Punjabi comfort food equivalents of macaroni and cheese — the creamy mustard greens called sarso ka saag and kadhi, a yellow chickpea flour and yogurt curry swimming with fried onion fritters. Lachedar parantha, whole wheat butter-layered bread, fresh from the tandoor clay oven, was our accompaniment.
These were the same dishes that Bharawan, a casual restaurant known as a dhaba, first served when it opened in 1912 as a covered tent restaurant, and they are what keep the crowds coming back more than a hundred years later.
Amritsar in the state of Punjab in northern India is a city for pilgrimages: There are those who come to visit the Golden Temple, the Sikh house of worship built in the 16th century, and then there are the presumably less pious who make the trip for the dhabas — divey looking joints famous for quick, inexpensive and remarkably tasty Punjabi cuisine.
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Daal makhani at Kesar da Dhaba.Credit Kuni Takahashi for The New York Times
On our mid-December visit, my mother-in-law, Bharati, my sister, Aditi, and I came to pay homage to the latter, and over the course of three days, ate our way through the most notable ones in town.
Many dhabas originated along the highways in Punjab in the mid-20th century to serve hungry truck drivers and eventually started opening in cities throughout the area. The ones in Amritsar, however, were always deemed to be far superior to the rest. As a Punjabi growing up in New Delhi, I heard constant stories from my family over the hearty and often heart-clogging meals characteristic of our sect about the dhaba feasts to be had in Amritsar, and I recently decided to take a trip to taste the supposedly supreme versions of the dishes that are an integral part of my roots.
Although each dhaba has its own specialties, there are similarities: Most of them have been around for a half-century or more and are family-run — actually, make that male-run, often with two or three generations of fathers and sons working together. And they have cultish followings because the dishes are authentic, not inventive, using so much ghee (clarified butter) that even the most traditional French cook would blush.
My primary concern about my ambitious tour was whether my stomach would hold up given the American standards of hygiene I have become accustomed to, having lived in the United States for more than 25 years. But Rashmi Uday Singh, the Mumbai-based food writer who is a judge on the Indian series “The Foodie Show” and who filmed an episode about Amritsar dhabas, eased my fears. “The thing about dhabas is that they usually have no fridges and buy only enough ingredients every morning that they will use in a day so everything is very fresh,” she said.
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Pooris at Kundan.Credit Kuni Takahashi for The New York Times
It was nostalgia that led me to our first stop: the nearly half-century old Kundan for its legendary chole poori breakfast. Located near the railway station, the small and square strictly vegetarian spot had plastic chairs and tables and dim lighting, but we weren’t there for the ambience. This morning meal of round, deep-fried puffy bread with spicy chickpeas was a beloved weekend tradition at my grandmother’s New Delhi house when I was a child.
A cook standing outside over a large black vat of bubbling oil flattened the dough for our pooris and fried them to a golden finish. Our stainless steel tray held four of them, a generous bowl of chickpeas, another one of cooling yogurt and a side of spicy mango pickle. Our intention was to try just a bit to save room for the abundance of eating ahead, but a few bites of the crispy and chewy bread cradling the tangy and spicy chickpeas wasn’t enough to get our fill. Before long, nearly everything on our 40 rupee platters (less than a $1) rested in our happy stomachs.
With the craving for one classic meal satisfied, it was time to try the most popular Punjabi dish of daal makhani. Apart from chicken tikka masala, these spicy black lentils might be the item most associated with Indian food and a top order for both Indians and non-Indians around the world when they are dining at Indian restaurants.
For this, we headed to Kesar da Dhaba, which we reached by walking through a series of narrow streets in the city center where rickshaws and bicycles were the only vehicles around.
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A dish covered with silver leaf at Kesar da Dhaba.Credit Kuni Takahashi for The New York Times
When we arrived, we found the owner, Ajay Kumar, 49, chopping cauliflower in the front open kitchen. Behind him were more than a dozen men furiously mincing large bunches of vegetables and cilantro in preparation for the day.
Mr. Kumar’s great-grandfather, Lala Kesar Mul, started Kesar, also a vegetarian restaurant, in 1916. Back then, daal makhani was the prized dish, and nearly a hundred years later, it’s still the reason more than 700 people come here daily.
“We go through 220 pounds of daal a day, and it’s sold out by the evening,” Mr. Kumar said.
Making a batch in the massive steel caldron is a nine-hour endeavor that begins at 4 a.m., when one of Mr. Kumar’s cooks washes and boils lentils until they are soft. Adding salt and red chile powder is next, and a mixture that includes onion, ghee, turmeric and the pungent sweet spice asafetida goes in just before serving. The word makhani means “with butter” in Hindi, and the hot and thick brown daal isn’t complete until it’s scooped into shallow steel bowls and topped with at least a half-stick that gradually melts in and makes for the creamiest rendition we had ever tasted.
By the evening, my sister and I were hankering for a meat fix (my mother-in-law is a vegetarian), which we wisely decided to fulfill with the goat leg curry — a dish we both tried for the first time — at the 50-year-old Pal. The five green tables with cracks running through them and rickety benches in a small room made for a suspect setting, but as we took in the aroma of the curry simmering in a round cast-iron pot in the tiny open kitchen, we forgot about our surroundings.
Jasbir Singh, 40, who runs Pal with his father, Jashpal, says there is a secret to the curry’s deep flavor: roasting and grinding the spices such as garam masala, cumin, coriander and red pepper daily. The chewy and rich goat legs in the soupy gravy beg for naan to scoop it up, but instead of the standard plain variety, Mr. Singh, who does all the cooking at Pal himself, presented us with a version filled with minced mutton. “We are not a place for those who don’t eat meat,” he said.
Because most dhabas are vegetarian, Pal stands out, but rarer still are the ones that sell fish. Fried catfish that is well known in India by different names, including singara, was a household staple for us in Delhi so I was happy to find that it’s the star at two of the most respected dhabas in town, which happen to have a connection. The story began with Makhan Fish & Chicken Corner, which two brothers, Sucha and Sarder Surjit Singh, opened as a stand near the railway station with their father almost 50 years ago. At the time, fish was unheard-of in Amritsar, but they sold fried singara fillets crusted in chickpea flour, caraway seeds and red chile powder.
The brothers eventually split, and Sucha kept the Makhan name and opened a two-story dhaba that his son Harjit, 29, now runs and where the original recipe is the reason to dine. The first floor is a place for men to bring in alcohol to enjoy with their heaping platters while families and women with children are relegated to the second floor, an alcohol-free zone. His cousin Amarjit Singh, 33, oversees Surjit Food Plaza, which, with its glass tables, clean white walls and wooden chairs was the most upscale of the dhabas that we visited. Although the same crisp fish is on the menu, Amarjit Singh has distinguished himself with new inventions like the incredibly tender spinach-coated fish kebabs baked in the tandoor, located in the outdoor kitchen in the narrow alley behind the restaurant. There’s also his homemade paneer, an Indian cheese, which my mother-in-law declared was the softest she had ever tried — even softer than hers.
Part of the charm of dhabas is that they function much as they did when they first opened, although they can be savvy about modern marketing. A handful of dhabas, including Surjit, Kesar and Bharawan, have either a Facebook page or a website. Last year, Bharawan’s owner, Subash Vij, 49, even opened an outpost at the food court in the city’s Alpha One mall. “Even in such an old and successful business, change is the law of nature,” he said.
He sat with us while we ate our thalis and saw that we needed more bread to help finish our mustard greens and yellow curry. An oversize leavened flatbread called a kulcha appeared, tempting us with its gentle steam and glistening ghee.
Bharati, Aditi and I eyed one another. Who would have the first bite? Without any discussion, all three of us tore off a piece at once.
In this edition of Foodie Fortnight: free macarons, half-price wine and a farewell potluck party at the beloved Cookbook Store.
Macaron Day
This Thursday, French confectioners citywide will be passing out free macarons to all sweet-seekers. This handy Macaron Map makes it easy to locate dozens of participating patisseries.
Toronto’s unofficial foodie hub is closing, but not without a grand send-off. Guests are requested to dress in red and bring a dish from their favourite cookbook. Mar. 23. The Cookbook Store, 850 Yonge St., twitter.com
Battle Offal
Chefs from six hot Toronto restaurants, including Le Select, Geraldine and Hapa Izakaya, will be facing off in an epic culinary battle at The Drake. The star ingredients? Blood and guts. Mar. 24. The Drake Hotel, 1150 Queen St. W., 416-531-5042, thedrakehotel.ca
Southern Feastat The County General
The four-course menu for this inspired Southern feast includes blackened chicken livers, stuffed pig trotters and sugarcane shrimp, plus lots of special bourbon-based cocktails. Mar. 25-26. $40 (drinks not incl.). The County General, 936 Queen St. W., 416-531-4447, thecountygeneral.ca
Artisan Supperat Ruby Watchco
Poached black cod with “chicken-wing vinaigrette” is one of the incredible-sounding dishes on chef Lora Kirk’s five-course menu. The $150 price tag includes wine pairings from Norm Hardie. Mar. 25. $150. Ruby Watchco, 730 Queen St. E., facebook.com
Chef Collaboration Dinner at Splendido
A handful of seats remain for this eight-chef, eight-course dinner at Splendido. The lineup of participating chefs reads like a who’s-who of Toronto dining: it includes Splendido’s Victor Barry, plus Auberge du Pommier’s Marc St. Jacques, Campagnolo’s Craig Harding and Nota Bene’s David Lee. Mar. 27. $180. Splendido, 88 Harbord St., 416-929-7788, splendido.ca
Spring Thaw Dinner
Over 16 Toronto chefs—including Jamie Kennedy, Canoe chef Anthony Walsh and Hopgood’s Foodliner’s Geoff Hopgood—will celebrate the upcoming 2014 growing season with a culinary spring fling at the Palais Royale. Mar. 31. $175. Palais Royale, 1601 Lake Shore Blvd. W., 647-499-7077, eventbrite.ca
Half-Price Wine
Each Tuesday this month, wines and sakes are 50 per cent off at Bent, Susur Lee’s Dundas West restaurant. The weekly deal puts most bottles firmly in the affordable $30 range. Until Mar. 31. Bent,777 Dundas St. W., 647-352-0092, bentrestaurant.com
Indian Street Food Festival
Throughout March, Amaya is serving a special menu devoted to modern takes on traditional Indian street-food snacks. Expect some unconventional fusion dishes, like kung pao chaat and saag-paneer pizza. Until Mar. 31. Amaya The Indian Room, 1701 Bayview Ave., 416-322-3270 , amayarestaurant.com
Situated smack in the middle of one of Toronto’s most self-consciously cool bar zones, Lipstick and Dynamite—the name is an homage to a 2004 documentary about female professional wrestlers—is an anomaly. It feels like the kind of rec-roomy dive that might have stood in its place ten years ago, before exposed brick and barn board became compulsory bar decor. The floors are plain white tile, the walls plastered with 80s album covers and garage-sale art, and the bookshelves stuffed with paperback novels and second-hand board games. Owners Celeste Toledo and Steve Cann, who met and worked together at Kensington’s Exile, wanted to open a place that felt comfortable and lived-in: an unpretentious spot where locals could grab a low-key drink (beer, standard spirits and simple cocktails), or fill up on comforting vegetarian food, like chipotle-yam burgers and Reuben sandwiches made with mushrooms instead of meat. A recent post on the bar’s Facebook page sums up the bar’s ethos well (and suggests rowdy revelers may want to take a pass): “No assholes allowed, please.”
Ladies and Gents put your chip bags down and reach for snacks that are homemade or packaged in safe materials.... Cancer in a Can: The Shocking Truth Behind Pringles
Are you aware of the dangerous cancer-causing chemical that is present in almost every bottle or bag of potato chips? Pringles certainly contain this dangerous substance, but they are far from being the only culprit. Although acrylamide is found in essentially all potato chips, it is widely considered to be a harmful, cancer-causing chemical, which makes potato chips one of the most toxic processed foods on the market.
The Story Behind Acrylamide
Acrylamide develops when carbohydrate-rich foods are cooked at high temperatures (anything above 212°F (100°C). Whether a potato is baked, fried, or roasted, acrylamide will be produced. Many of our standard carbohydrates can be slightly toxic when cooked, including potatoes, and grains. But the levels of acrylamide you would get from naturally cooked whole foods will never be as elevated as junk food.
For instance, potato chips and French fries seem to be the worst sources of acrylamide. In fact, a study by the Environmental Law Foundation found that every single chip product that they tested exceeded the legal limit for acrylamide by at least 39 times. Some brands had as much as 910 times the legal limits of acrylamide.
HEATOX was a study that examined the dangers of heat-induced compounds. The report shows that acrylamide is not alone, unfortunately. There are actually over 800 compounds formed by heat, 52 of which have the potential to be dangerous carcinogens. That means that there are plenty of reasons besides acrylamide to avoid cooking your food at high temperatures! For instance, heterocylic amines (HCAs), polycylic aromatic hydrocarbons (PAHs), and advanced glycation end products (AGEs) all pose a serious threat to your health.
Decreasing Acrylamide In Your Diet
The bad news is that researchers currently don’t have an effective strategy for completely cutting acrylamide out of our food. In fact, even using all of our best technology, we are only capable of reducing acrylamide in our food products by 40%, according to HEATOX’s report. That still leaves a lot of cancer-causing chemicals in our diet!
Since you aren’t able to completely eliminate your exposure to acrylamide, it is crucial to take the steps you can in order to decrease your risk of cancer. Interestingly enough, home-cooked food is less likely to contain extremely high levels of acrylamide, so taking the time to prepare your own food is a good start towards reducing acrylamide in your diet!
The main method of decreasing your intake of acrylamide is to mostly consume raw or minimally processed foods. If you don’t cook your food, you never allow acrylamide to form! Raw fruits and vegetables are your healthiest option. There is a widespread movement towards eating raw foods, so you can easily find plenty of tasty recipes that don’t require you to cook your food.
If you aren’t quite ready to cut out that much cooked food, focus on eliminating your intake of obvious problems, such as donuts, sodas, French fries, and, of course, potato chips.
