Rasa - Take a walk on the meaty side - Oct 2011

I'm conflicted...
 
Despite being in North London, I love Stoke Newington. If it isn't twinned with Camberwell, then it should be. A fiercely independent villagelike enclave of London with strong and proud local communities and immigrant flavour influencing the shops, restaurants and entertainment. Lovely people too; independent, diverse and proud (like their shops) and none of the identikit shop-bought cool you'll find in watered down Angel or Hoxton.

Separated from 'normal' London by a, for some unforgivable, lack of a tube network, it's been allowed to get on, relatively unhindered by the vagiaries of fashion. Half hearted arguments from locals of Stokey and Camberwell occasionally ring out, "It's on the bus!", we all cry, "with many more options home on a boozy Thursday night than the smug marrieds of Ealing or Clapham have with their uncomfortable crowded sweaty holes in the ground." That being said, we're not too fussed that you haven't found our den yet. We kinda like it that way.

Being a mecca for food too, authentic and chain free spicy food at that, I'm not sure why I don't spend more time in Stokey. It might be the nosebleeds I get going North of Zone 1, or it might be simply a lack of knowledge, but if you live closer than I, then I do urge you to support your local London village (just don't spoil it...)

   

Village favourites for many years, I was keen to try one of the outposts of South Indian restaurant Rasa. Specialising in Keralaite cuisine and particularly that from the southern part of the region, it's traditionally vegetarian or fish based, steeped in coconut, rich spices and fruit flavours and served with plain rice or flaky, butter filled parathas.

The two restaurants face each other across Stoke Newington Church Street; Rasa on one side, the more established and entirely vegetarian original and the mixed and more meaty Rasa Travancore on the other. I don't mind a vegetarian restaurant, indeed, some of my favourite restaurants are vegetarian, but given the choice, and seeing the reception that the veggie end of the Travancore menu got from Dr Vole, we went for the meaty side of the street.

Once inside the garish pink portal, you're not transported to a open air joint on the humid Kerala coast, more a generic curry house on a suburban high street. The thick faux leather menu that clumps down does its best to get you there though. First there's the pricing, and that pleasant holiday sense of surprised "how much!". Then there's the list of food, rich in interesting difference, a world of exotic Malabar, Keralian and Travancore rarities poetically arranged in Ariel Bold.

A starter of lamb puffs were slightly irrelevant. Homemade sausage rolls in perfectly fine pastry cocoons, the mince richly and appropriately spiced, but nothing that would be cause for more than a murmur appearing in a home packed picnic on nearby Clissold Park.

   

The meat free Travancore Kayi Curry was, considering the restaurant's vegetarian roots and the fact it was labelled as signature dish, surprisingly pedestrian. Potatoes, peas and carrots in a thin mild coconut curry sauce. A student staple, though at £3.90 for a big bowl, student pricing too.

Tharavu Roast Duck was a different beast altogether. A thick, technically dry curry, brought to life with a hefty whallop of black pepper, cardamom and ginger. The richness of the meat, braised and shredded, contrasted with the deep and complex sauce. Suggested with the aforementioned doughily delicious parathas, it was the sort of cooking you'd come back for again and again. I wouldn't necessarily say the same for the veggie main, but maybe that's what you cross the street for.