The huge diversity of cultural cuisine on offer in Britain means diners can get a taste of the world without even leaving their pub table. Richard Fox explains
The average alien holiday to planet Earth probably descends into confusion and panic the minute they arrive on British soil.
After enjoying seafood tapas in Spain, the fresh Mediterranean cuisine of other parts of southern Europe, and the fragrant spiciness of north Africa and the Middle East, they could be excused for thinking a wrong turn was taken somewhere between Kuala Lumpur and Kashmir. For surrounded by a cuisine as eclectic as the Tom Jones songbook, arriving in the UK is like entering a gastronomic twilight zone.
Surveying local livestock, climate, soil and vegetation, and then entering just about any neighbourhood restaurant, pub or general eating emporium, is akin to Mr Benn stepping from his back-of-shop changing room into the Wild West.
Carrots, potatoes and cows proliferate our agricultural lands and yet Thai curry, king prawn korma and chicken tikka kebabs dominate our eating houses. What on earth is that all about?
Some of these ethnic concoctions seem to encompass several countries' culinary traditions in one bite-size piece of samosa, while at the other end of the scale, farmers' markets are burgeoning and celebrity chefs are constantly banging on about Lancashire hotpot and pease pudding like flagbearing royalists.
This is one giant dog's dinner of a food culture, and one to send the aliens scurrying back to their lonely planet before you can say "ET phone home".
But the reality is, they'd be missing out big style, because amid the confusion of mixed messages, contradictory principles and questionable fusion, we potentially have one of the most diverse and ethnically-rich cuisines in the world.
If we can apply some method to this madness, we have a real chance to create order, quality and uniformity without losing out on the essence of our own wealth of local, seasonal produce, or the interest and taste of regional Asian and Indian cuisines.
Firstly, a quality approach to sourcing our own local produce, while embracing seasonality, is identical to the historical and cultural diversification found in the cooking of Southeast Asia and the Indian subcontinent. We are currently experiencing a genuine positive swing towards higher food values based on quality sustainable farming methods and a provenance-led approach by cooks and consumers alike.
Given the fact that ethnic cuisine is firmly established as part of the British eating experience, we are perfectly placed to start exploring the regional styles of these countries, rather than the generic mish mash that we call Indian, Thai or Chinese. By examining regional nuances we can start to create a greater sense of quality and value, as well as cleaner, more interesting tastes. The customer can start experiencing a virtual tour of these nations that until recently have just seemed like one giant mass of the same thing. In addition, a regional approach to the actual dishes suggests a quality-based focus on sourcing local,fresh ingredients to cook it with.
When we consider that India is effectively made up of states with cooking cultures and languages as diverse as those between, say, France and Spain, it seems ridiculous to see "Indian" food in the context of the average Indian generic restaurant dish, without so much as a nod towards its origins and the flavours that would be synonymous with that place. Even cooking methods vary massively from region to region: steaming is the preferred way in southern India, while in the north, it does not even enter the repertoire.
In Bengal, fish is the favourite raw ingredient, whereas vegetable-based dishes feature in other areas. I could spend the next few years coming up with regional Indian recipes, but in Madhur Jaffrey's A Taste of India, published by Pavilion Books, you'll get all the information you could ever want - and inspiring photography to boot.
Moving on to Southeast Asia, we have the wonderfully fragrant cuisines of Malaysia and Thailand. We could be forgiven for believing that the only dish ever eaten in this country is green curry. The reality is that this is predominantly a southern Thai dish, while in the north, around Chang Mai, the Theravada Buddhists have inspired some awesome vegetarian cooking utilising the array of spices, herbs and vegetables that proliferate this produce-rich nation.
Moving on to Malaysia, we have perhaps one of my favourite dishes in the world to cook, and eat: the laksa. It's as rich in colour and flavour as anything I've ever eaten, and yet is probably one of the easiest dishes you're ever likely to cook.
Handfuls of coriander, onion, garlic, galangal, palm sugar, shrimp paste, turmeric and chillies are simply chucked into the food processor, whizzed to a paste and then gently fried before adding coconut milk and chicken stock.
Fish or chicken is then poached in the sauce and served with egg noodles - awesome!
And this is where sourcing quality, local produce really allows these "faraway" dishes to be brought home. Utilise the quality fresh fish from our own shores, or free-range chicken from your local farmer and you'll have the best of all worlds.
All the Southeast Asian countries have rich culinary traditions that can be researched very easily and added to your menu to give it that unique touch - taking what we are already embracing, and moving it on a step.
There's Burma on the Indian border whose cuisine is a blend of Indian and Oriental - now you can't tell me that's not going to go down well in Blighty. And then there's Indonesia with its own take on the lemon grass, lime and coconut of Malaysian food. With just a little help from books or the web, you can start authentic gastronomic tours of the world without the need for inoculations and malaria tablets.
But just remember - because the recipe comes from Thailand doesn't mean the chicken in it should!