Day 24: Cheese-gate

Friday 23 October

There’s nothing like a Tuesday, Wednesday and Thursday off work to make the Friday of your return feel like the longest day of your life. I crawled through the day with a deaf ear the kind of persistent cough that makes people sitting near you wince and an itchy throat. Everyone seems to be ill this week. Possibly the last thing I felt like doing upon lurching home was speaking to anyone on the phone, which naturally meant that everyone I knew took it upon themselves to phone me up, curse them. I was delighted to receive interruption from Two-Woman who was proposing swinging by my neck of the woods on her way home so we could go for an oesophagus-anesthetising curry.

I live in a neighbourhood not over-burdened with opportunities for eating out, so I am pleased that The Bengal is at least sort of decent. I do, however, wish they would paint it a different colour. It used to be bright orange and now it is bright turquoise: I think the luminous paintwork is meant to compensate for all the lights they won’t turn on. We plonked ourselves down while I went through my usual martyr-like “Do have a beer if you want one!’ routine. Two-Woman was suffering from a similarly razed throat and opted for a pineapple juice. I had a Diet Coke, although I had a horror-struck moment of thinking I’d actually said: “I’ll have another fucking Diet Coke." This month hasn’t half put me off carbonated drinks you know. 

Now here’s a funny thing with the Bengal Brasserie. They serve a perfectly toothsome Saag Paneer, which consists of spinach (saag) and that spongy, mild-tasting Indian cheese that doesn’t melt (paneer!). It’s a bit like the solid bits in cottage cheese, carved into cubes by some crazed cheese control-freak. Just to drive my point home, its name is paneer. Paneer Cheese. 

Now on the menu, the dish is described thus:

“Saag Paneer: spinach served with your choice of Cheddar or Paneer Cheese”

Is it just me, or is this as odd as going to an Italian restaurant and seeing the following:

"Margarita pizza: cheese and tomato served with your choice of either a pizza or an omelette."

I happen to think that’s odd. And the same thing happens every time I order it:

Waiter: Yes please?

Me: I would like the Saag Paneer with Paneer Cheese

Waiter: Er… sorry?

Me: Saag Paneer with PANEER cheese. NOT Cheddar.

Waiter: [scribbling] Cheddar Cheese

Me: No... NOT with Cheddar Cheese. With Paneer Cheese. I want Paneer. I want Saag Paneer with Paneer Cheese. PANEER

Waiter: Ah, sorry, could you just point…

Me: THIS ONE. But where it says the Cheddar Cheese I do not want the Cheddar Cheese. I want the Paneer Cheese.

And, just like last time, ten minutes later, a little sizzling plate was brought out consisting of spinach smothered with a thick yellow blanket of melting Cheddar. “I wanted Paneer!” I announced rather hysterically. I can’t have beer, now I can’t have Paneer, what other pleasures ending in E-E-R will I be deprived of next? The waiter (the same one who could not tell the difference between the words ‘Paneer’ and ‘Cheddar’) brought the manager over. He listened patiently before announcing: “Cheddar cheese is very popular with our customers”

Actually, Cheddar cheese is very popular with me as well. I like it in an omelette, a toastie, in cauliflower cheese... but just as I wouldn’t order a Prawn Dansak and expect to receive a bowl of prawns floating in Bisto (despite the fact that I believe Bisto is very popular with a Sunday Roast) nor do I wish my Saag Paneer to come smothered in Cheddar. To be honest, if they have customers coming in demanding these bizarre menu amendments, the staff should just march them outside, point at the pink, illuminated ‘Bengal’ sign and say: “Now. Where do you think Bengal is? Clue: it’s not in Somerset…”

The manager’s next step was to confidentially suggest that next time I attempted to order this dish, I specify in advance whether I wanted paneer or cheddar. This led to an inadvertent double scream of “I DID/SHE DID!” from Two-Woman and I, which caused the manager to step back in alarm and magnanimously offered to replace it free of charge. I’m sorry for shouting: but we really were at the end of our tether.

Ten minutes later they brought out a Saag Paneer (as opposed to a Saag Cheddar) with a flourish. “Indian cheese” announced the manager. Is this what I’m supposed to say in order to obtain Paneer Cheese on future missions? Perhaps this needs to be stated on the menu. I sat there and regarded it: I almost felt too drained to eat it. I don’t like to fight for my supper. The staff hovered smiling expectantly and I began to get a growing sense that Paneer Cheese is a big joke even in India and no one in their right minds would ever choose it over Cheddar. I wish I had a big bottle of Cobra right now, I thought limply.

Units dodged: Six. Two big bottles of Cobra. It would normally just have been one, but Cheese-gate took so long to rectify and was such thirsty work that I could definitely have done two.

Non-alcoholic beer of the day: I invited Two-Woman back to have a non-alcoholic beer before she went home. Either she was too washed out by Cheese-gate, or my offer was about as tempting as: “Would you like to come back to mine and have an apple?” If only I hadn’t drank all the Super Bock Stout already, I might have been able to have made my offer sound a little more enticing. But sadly for Two-Woman, it means she missed out on Bitburger Drive. What a great name. Now, after a few days of mildish, sweetish beers, the Bitburger was a shock to the system, puckering my lips into a replica of a cat’s bum. By God it was bitter. But bitter in a  very good way. The bitterness tricks you into thinking there’s a bit of a boozy bite. According to the website: “The alcohol is carefully removed, but only once the beer has fully matured so it locks in the famous Bitburger taste” 

I’m very pleased they have retained this taste. I did not know it was famous (I have actually never heard of Bitburger) but I like it and appreciate their efforts. It’s also meant to be the official drink of the German National Football Team. I hope they like bitter drinks and don’t sit there crying because they'd rather have some orange squash. 

The Unit Dodger