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[husenfulhu]

a refreshing bev

shell beans has long been a bastion of culinary excellence, i inform my friend saththaaru, who does a double-take in his affectedly comical manner. we clamber up the stairs and saththaaru says: 'let's sit outside,' and i tell him 'it's too hot, let's sit inside,' and saththaaru responds 'no, there's a breeze, it's pleasant out,' and i say 'it's not cool enough dammit, let's sit here.' and so saththaaru plops resignedly on a chair by the huge glass window. 'what do you feel like?' i ask. 'you treating?' 'yah.' 'i'd like a refreshing beverage.' 'i recommend the sprite.' 'sold,' says saththaaru. 'what are you having?' 'bon aqua.' 'good choice, both by the same company.' the waiter arrives and we give our orders. 'bring the sprite with a slice of lime,' i instruct him. when the waiter leaves saththaaru says: you know i don't really care for sliced fruit in my drink. they keep touching my lip when i sip. 'huh,' i say and look out the window. the waiter brings our drinks. 'wow, you've got TWO slices of lime. and not on the rim.' 'this is new.' he takes a sip. 'it's great. the extra slice is extremely refreshing.' 'it's also the ambience.' i pronounce it 'ahm be ahns', appropriate in this setting. we hear someone scream in what seems like huvadhoo bas from below. 'you know how you can tell if someone's a raajjetherey person?' says saththaaru. 'go on.' 'they pronounce assume as 'AZUME'' i shake my head. you can take the addu man and put him in bristol but... 'say what you will about shell beans but it keeps out the rubes,' i remark. saththaaru nods. we finish our drinks and ask for the bill. the can of sprite cost just 38 MVR plus service charge and tax. the water 30++. i hand the cashier a crisp 500 note and ask him to put points on my loyalty programme. outside, the day is bright gold and the sea undulates like a sheet of blue silk in the wind. it's a million rufiyaa view and we got off parting with a measly 120. what's that to a man of mean? 'to life lived!' i say. 'amen.'

[husenfulhu]

on a mission @themaldivekitchen

here i am by the maldive kitchen with one thing on my mind. before i reveal it, let it be said that this kitchen's culinary excellence transcends all competition (no offense aibbalhey) - never since the last days of newport (sorry, shw) have i had such phenomenal dhivehi cuisine.anyway, yes, i'm here with a couple of friends, alibe and his wife aisaadhi, and as i've said, for one thing only. biriyani! unfortunately for us though, the kitchen made a little faux pas and is overbooked. one of the owners comes out with his head bowed in apology, and has a long chat with alibe who's the kind of person that finds tremendous joy in swallowing swathes of information and storing it like blubber in his sizeable frame. anyway, we don't have to wait too long for our seats.'come the fuck in alibe,' i say, scaring off some pedestrians. so this place was designed by kokky, or is it kokkee? anyway, she's this architect who's also partly responsible for seagull, and who amongst us doesn't like seagull? 'i wouldn't be surprised if half the diners here end up in island bazaar tomorrow,' remarks alibe and aisaadhi chuckles. she is a chuckler. the only things i don't like about the maldive kitchen's decor are the board with that gradient and the mosaic tiles of the counter. these feel at odds with the restaurant's very obvious dhivehi charm.anyhow, behind our table is a long one filled with people from a major telecom provider. i tell aisaadhi i like a woman there. she nods approvingly.' in sri lanka we say kukul, and here you say kukulhu, isn't that awesome?' says a woman from that table. 'who's that steven pinker behind me?' i ask aisaadhi. 'the woman you fancy.' 'oh lord.' and alibe snorts. our biriyani arrives without fanfare. it a complete surprise. for one thing, the rice is totally red. second, there is no havaadhu, no spice mix. it does have caramelised onions and raisins which give the rather plain but savoury rice some bursts of sweetness, with cashews adding texture. the chicken is done differently as well - it is sauteed and tastes spicy. one thing we really enjoy is the fundi satani - it is sour, savoury, and has a delicious aftertaste of githeyo mirus. i have to have a chat with jee. 'what's up with the biryani? i haven't had anything like it. doesn't even look like any biryani that i've seen.' 'well, it's a dish that was made in our home since i was little. it's kind of evolved from that. we don't use spices in the rice, but we marinate the chicken in them and we fry it up a bit. so it's a bit different from your usual biryani.' i ask her about the satani. 'oh i put in a little githeyo mirus and some hiki mas.' aha! all in all, i think this biriyani, while very good, is a bit too quirky to really fall in love with - i like spice in my rice like most well-adjusted people. but i wouldn't mind having it again sometime. 'what do you think?' i ask aisaadhi and alibe before we leave for dessert. 'it's really nice.' says aisaadhi. 'i prefer maagiri,' says alibe. such a joker, this alibe.