Curry Crisis.

[Gob]

24 June 2011 Last updated at 12:38 GMT


Bradford College curry chefs to aid restaurant 'crisis'

A West Yorkshire college is looking for potential curry chefs to stem the staff "crisis" in restaurants in the wake of tighter immigration rules.

Over the summer, Bradford College aims to recruit 50 students who will then receive on-the-job training in a number of the city's curry restaurants.

The college said immigration laws mean many Asian restaurants are struggling to find qualified chefs.

Students will be trained for between one year and two-and-a-half years.

Graham Fleming, head of Bradford College's International Food Academy, said curry restaurants across the UK faced a crisis and would have to turn to home-grown talent.

"That is why we are working very closely with the industry," he said.

"We are working with a lot of local employers and these apprentices will be employed full-time, coming into college just one day a week."

As well as working in established curry restaurants in Bradford, students will also be expected to prepare food for paying customers in the college's own restaurant.

Chef Bobby Patel, who owns and runs the Prashad in Bradford, said he welcomed the chance to help aspiring curry chefs achieve a professional qualification.

"We get the advantage of them working with us for four days a week and we get them to understand our industry," he said.

"But having them come through the college gives them a good foundation and the knowledge which it is always excellent to have."

Mohammed Aslam, head of the Aagrah chain of restaurants in West Yorkshire, said Bradford was an ideal place to train chefs to plug the gap in the current staffing crisis.

"There is a lot of raw talent in Bradford which needs to be developed," he said.

"We need quality chefs and we need to concentrate a lot more on their training."

Bradford College said it hoped the International Food Academy could eventually train about 100 students a year.

http://www.bbc.co.uk/news/uk-england-leeds-13903251

[The Hen]

WARNING: Off topic post ahead


Do I take it that you fancy a curry for dinner tonight then?

If so, may I recommend the Blue Pumpkin and chickpea variety. The region you chose is up to you.

(Edited to show the Blue Pumpkin. Ours is courtesy of Mum, who had eight plants come up this season.)

[Gob]

Yes please dear, that would be lovely...

[The Hen]

Warning: Another off topic post ahead.

What region then?

Don't be all Imperialist British and just assume your all you curries are just Indian,

No WONDER they are worried about the lack of available immigrants.


(Ah! Did you see what I did there? I segued back to your article like the smooth poster that I am. I am sure no one will find it strange that a curry question came up in your thread.)

[Sean]

I wouldn't mind them sending a few decent curry chefs over here. The general standard of curry in Australia is abysmal!

Although I must say that I did have an extremely good goat curry a couple of weeks ago...

[Joe Guy]

Just thought I'd chime in on subject.

I hate curry.

[loCAtek]

Goats make curry? I guess that's a smidgen above abysmal.

[The Hen]

Learn From My Fail:

Never eat a quarter of a packet of dried apples for an afternoon snack when you are having a curry for dinner.

The apples will make you more regular than your bottom can stand with all the spices.

[Gob]

Could this be the reason for the "Curry crisis"?

Indian cuisine is one of the oldest, richest and most subtle in the world. So why is it that a typical night in a curry house is so short of inspiration?

Cheap carpet, cheap furniture, a gloopy curry sauce on every dish, whether meat, fish or vegetables. It is a scene familiar to most of us.



And why do so many Indian restaurants feel they have to stay open until 3am when, at that time, their customers are mostly drunk?

I know for a fact it doesn't have to be this way. I am the head chef and a director of Lasan, which creates authentic South Asian cuisine with a modern touch, in Birmingham.

Last year I was thrilled to win Gordon Ramsay's competition for Best Local Restaurant on his Channel 4 programme The F Word.

I was also the first ethnic chef to make it to the final and cooked the fish course for BBC2's Great British Menu competition this year.

So my question is this: why do so many owners of Indian restaurants turn a unique culinary heritage into a bastardised abomination?

I believe there are several contributory factors. These include using low-quality ingredients, employing staff with low skill levels and staying open nearly all night for customers who have consumed far too much alcohol.

It is no wonder that the public shows no respect for the cuisine. I blame those involved in the restaurant industry. I know what I am talking about, too, because I am self-taught and have become chef and director of a great restaurant against considerable odds.

There's no denying the racism I and others have had to fight. I suffered from regular bullying in both schools I attended, which is why I left, barely educated, at 16, much to my parents' displeasure.



But I have always loved cooking and began helping my mother prepare fish curry and vegetable bhajis at home from the age of seven. She is a great cook and nurtured my passion, despite the disapproval of her peers who believed that the kitchen is a female domain.

My parents are moderate Muslims from Bangladesh who came to Britain in the late Seventies. My academic father was a political scientist in Bangladesh but, shortly after he and my mother settled in Birmingham, he decided to open a standard Indian restaurant in Solihull, which he called The Indian Palace.

He chose it as a way of making a living because he had a large family to support, even though it was much less prestigious than his previous work.
I am the second of five sons and began helping in his restaurant, washing pots and chopping onions at weekends and during the school holidays. Even then I sensed something wasn't right.

When I left school I went to work in my father's kitchen fulltime. What I saw was shocking. Almost every other weekend the restaurant would be wrecked by 'customers' who pushed tables over in the early hours.

I remember when a group of drunken thugs walked up to the staff, stared them in the face and told them they weren't going to pay. They then walked out. I also saw others hit and push my father until he fell down.

As for the menu, it seemed largely to consist of balti dishes - a pre-prepared curry that is finished off in a steel wok. It tastes the same wherever you go. It originated in Birmingham and is neither traditional nor authentic.

The complete lack of imagination demonstrated by owners of Indian restaurants is one of the stranger aspects of business. The menus in so many curry houses are identical, as are the ingredients.

If, for example, you ask for a korma, the result will be indistinguishable from one standard Indian restaurant to the next: a sickly yellow dish comprising chicken or lamb in an onion-based gravy, with dried coconut, cream and sugar.

The same standards apply if you choose a balti dish or a chicken tikka masala.

To be blunt, the quality of these dishes often fails to reach even the standards of some fast-food restaurants. At least the better ones have put some thought into what is on offer and, for the price, the quality can be good.

Too many Indian restaurants are, in contrast, fixated on copying the restaurant - or more likely restaurants - down the road.

Therefore, the only way they can distinguish themselves is by cutting the price to the point where they are barely earning a living.

I can't believe that so many owners of Indian restaurants choose this option rather than attempting to improve the standard and put some individuality into their cooking.

It hardly helps that many staff in these restaurants have little interest in developing their skills. No wonder the menus stay the same for decades.

My father's restaurant also served chicken tikka masala because that is what British people wanted. It was a complete contrast to the wonderful fresh fish with delicious vegetarian side dishes that we ate at home.

I took a job in an Italian restaurant when I was 18, and it was the Italians who taught me how to do things properly.

I learned the value of finding the best produce and being professional in dealing with customers. I noticed that, as a result, the restaurant had discriminating diners.

After two years I went back to The Indian Palace, knowing I could run it better than my father could. It was in dire straits by then, not least because it cost him so much to repair the damage caused by customers.

I told him he had to stop pandering to the drunks, appeal to the more discerning customer and change the menu so that ingredients didn't come out of tins.

My father told me I was a child and didn't know what I was talking about. We argued, but in the end my mother convinced him to let me try to run it.

I didn't make huge changes, but I did ensure it closed at 11pm rather than 3am. I bought good, fresh ingredients and told the serving staff to be less servile and more relaxed.

I believe restaurants should be run on mutual respect. Staff shouldn't bow to customers every ten seconds.

Within a few weeks trade more than doubled and we had waiting lists at the weekend. Suddenly my father had a profitable business for the first time.

I stayed for nearly two years, by which time I felt I had proved my point. I particularly wanted my own restaurant, and in 2002 I opened Lasan.

Unfortunately, despite making a profit, my father was uncomfortable with the environment I had created at his restaurant. He called me a snob and took the restaurant back down-market after my departure.

We didn't discuss why, but his attitude created friction between us. We get on fine, but never talk about business.

The way I tried to deal with my father's restaurant is my recipe for improving attitudes to Indian cuisine.

When a bar or pub throws someone out because they have drunk too much, why should an Indian restaurant take them in?

I am very proud of what I and my 24-strong team do at Lasan, but there is still some way to go to change people's attitudes. Too many people still believe that if it's Asian it must be dirt-cheap.

Although I use the same suppliers as my friends who run Michelin-starred restaurants, I am the only one who has to justify his prices to his customers.

For example, when I charged £21 for a monkfish dish, my customers queried the cost, which I suppose you would if you are used to having a three-course Indian meal for £7.

Meanwhile, a friend who runs a smart French restaurant in the city charged £23 for smaller portions of the same fish. None of his customers said a word.

Of course, I know I cannot change public opinion of Indian food and restaurants overnight, but perhaps every time customers taste the fresh flavours and ingredients used in my dishes at Lasan, they will start to recognise the difference.

Read more: http://www.dailymail.co.uk/news/article ... z1SPGtVvUp

I could murder a Rogan Josh now....

[dales]

Just thought I'd chime in on subject.

I hate curry.

Let me extend my deepest sympathies, my boy.

[Gob]

A life without a Ruby? Unimaginable.