The Mysterious Dorothy

When Tim (my housemate & honorary brother) and I went to ‘Dorothy’s Caribbean’ we did joke that the restaurant might be the front for some kind of shady operation because it has opaque windows. This offhand comment suddenly seemed more likely when we got inside and found that the owners of the establishment had no idea how a restaurant was supposed to work! As we walked in, the good lady herself was sat on the wrong side of the bar watching TV. It was far from obvious that we could buy food, but upon asking we were told that indeed today was the first time in 3 weeks that Dorothy was serving food, owing to the fact that the roof had been leaking. Then we learnt (unwillingly) about the history of her roof and the cultural heritage of her landlord. Tim tried to steer the conversation back on track by asking what our options were but she totally missed the point - apparently one option was a solicitor but she felt it was a bit expensive. After this, I tried again and asked (very unambiguously) what was on the menu. She looked a bit confused but offered us jerk chicken. We agreed. She then took the initiative to ask if we wanted a small portion. I asked how small is small, to which she responded by holding up a large box saying it was large. It’s tough to know how to proceed from here but somehow we did eventually get the boxes full of food. As she gave them to us she asked if we wanted them heated up. WTF who goes to a take away for cold food?! To speed the process up we said we’d do it ourselves at home and asked her how long to heat it up for. Of course she didn't know. We laughed to ourselves as we walked down the street. It was almost as though no one had ever ordered food there before. She didn't know what to do. Definitely this was the operating front for a drugs cartel. We stopped laughing when we got home and put the thing in the microwave and the possibility of food poisoning occurred to us. We re-cooked that chicken so well. Nervously giggling once more at the absent aesthetics as we dished up. But then we had a change of heart when we tasted it. Dorothy actually knew her stuff after all! It was a huge plate of very spicy Caribbean goodness and highly evident that Dorothy was a great cook. We even agreed we’d be happy to go back.


Then again, if I was going to get my mum to front my drugs cartel, I'd probably make sure she could cook too.

Needoo Curry House

This evening after work we were supposed to go to the increasingly famous curry place Tayyabs. It's in the 'up and coming' backstreets of Whitechappel. They feel pretty rough but I suppose that this must be what brick lane was like before it 'up and came'. However, I spoiled all of our plans by not managing to leave work on time. It was 7pm before I got away and by the time I arrived, Tayyabs, which by now has a reputation for itself, was full, with queuers loitering between the tables. As such we went to the spin off restaurant around the corner. Needoo was apparently founded by a rogue waiter after an altercation at Tayyabs. From the outside it looked so seedy that we nearly didn't go in but it was by now so late that we were hungry enough to risk it. All in all I'm glad we did. There were no people queuing in awkward places, the service was exceptionally fast and there was giant cutlery mounted on the wall which amused me. If anything the food was actually too authentic as Sam and Joe struggled with the spice. All the dishes were said to be 'medium' so there was no way out for the faint hearted, unless you are preprepared order from the less authentic 'chicken tikka masala' section of the menu, which no one was. We speculated that even the mint sauce had a kick to it and had to call in emergency yoghurt. I personally quite liked it but must admit that the level of spice did stop me from comparing the 4 dishes we'd ordered as they all tasted of 'robust heat' to me. In a nice way. Sam disagreed, but then he had begun an affliction of wild heat-induced hiccups.