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Kolkata Chinese finds a home in London’s Hakkaland

A gang of Presidencians in London is transported back to Tangra by the Chilli Chicken and Burnt Ginger Rice of Hakkaland in Harrow

SUSHMITA DUTTA Published 05.11.21, 04:20 PM

http://www.hakkaland.co.uk/

Was it that Mum went for a New Alipore Kowloon Chinese dinner the night before she went into labour (expecting me) that made me so fond of Kolkata Chinese or was it something else? I wonder.

When many moons back the husband and I were to spend a few years in Singapore, the silly me did a double somersault in air (in imagination if you know my acrobatic prowess) - all the Chinese food I could eat for all meals! Little did I know that Kolkata Chinese was in a universe of its own. And rare to find anywhere outside that city. The food courts of Singapore were ubiquitous but scan that island from end to end, yet nothing spoke of the Chilli Chicken or Sweet Corn Soup of Kolkata. No dropping just a few blobs of soy sauce into that pale, glum bowl of soup could recreate the taste of a happy kiddiehood -- to see swirls of dark brown and the soup looking entirely different from what had left the kitchen. Nope. Despite being two strategic colonial outposts, this boat was missed.

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Tangra Chinese and word-of-mouth stars

Calcutta had its very own Chinatown and even in the Kolkata of today its fame endures. And in Tangra, what was once a periphery but now a part of the city, there were the tanneries owned by families of Chinese descent. And amidst that grew a food haven. Tangra Chinese became the new go-to destination - the portion sizes were massive for the price. So you had to go with a big group of people and you had a banquet. The ambience was not quite as exciting as Kowloon (you have to understand that for a kid of the 70s-80s the red lanterns of a mid-budget neighbourhood Chinese address was the peak of my sophisticated restaurant experience!).

Hakka Chicken Noodles at Hakkaland

Hakka Chicken Noodles at Hakkaland

Back to Tangra -- it was through narrow rabbit warren alleys that one arrived at the eateries that were all known by word of mouth and not big signposts. The leader of the group would know what a destination was famous for and so had the entire order in their head -- even before we all sat down. I can’t remember if there were any menu cards to begin with. Huge hall-like spaces with tables and chairs of pretty basic variety, the attraction was steaming platters of heaped noodles or magical rice or delectable prawns that floated in and the need for fancy surrounds was forgotten! Lemon Chicken, Garlic Steamed Fish, Chilli Pork, Chilli Garlic Chicken and Crab Claws... aah Crab Claws from Lily’s Kitchen commanded a cult-like following. Kafulok, Kimling -- names that didn’t have Google reviews but were word-of-mouth stars.

Manchurian Chicken at Hakkaland

Manchurian Chicken at Hakkaland

Harrow, here we come

The fallout of Brexit with queues and brawls in 21st Century Britain outside fuel stations and Covid prevention measures that had already cancelled a year for everyone on this planet were the dampest of squibs that a squib could get. Thus, when a whiff of a news clipping about Hakkaland from an old Kolkata friend (currently living the country life in Essex) came wafting in, with words like Tangra Chinese and London, it was promptly circulated in a group of Presidencians for feedback and authenticity. Was this one of those PR pieces or did anyone know of this?

With the speed of lightning this morphed into a scramble for matching diaries for a date to meet at the said restaurant to test its claim and fame. Table and timelines were booked weeks in advance with necessary reminders to particular participants who didn’t know their Saturdays from their Sundays and all roads led to Hakkaland on a crisp October weekend.

The restaurant at Harrow

The restaurant at Harrow http://www.hakkaland.co.uk/

Whispers of ‘I think I will skip breakfast’ were heard in my house all in anticipation. From far off Peterborough and Greenwich people were trekking in. For the slightly initiated -- do not roll your eyes that Greenwich and Hakkaland are in London because Harrow, where Hakkaland presides, is closer to America and Paris nearer to Greenwich! Neither does being 20 minutes by Uber mean a few more minutes by Tube or bus -- it’s 120 minutes by a TFL (Transport for London) mode of transport! What I am getting to is this -- the people furthest away were on time and the ‘comparatively’ closer ones were late!

The interiors of Hakkaland

The interiors of Hakkaland http://www.hakkaland.co.uk/

The restaurant was called to request an extension of time -- we were from Kolkata after all although not exactly travelling from there! In that terse, no nonsense way reminiscent of many an employee of a Chinese restaurant in the Chinatowns of London, Kolkata and wet markets of Singapore, the caller was put in place by being told that last orders would be at 2pm and NO LATER. Messages flew across to tell those who had reached to order for everyone! Clearly some of us long-term British residents had not imbibed the British sense of time.

Bangali adda over Kolkata Chilli Chicken and Thums Up

Late by half an hour to the 1.15pm rendezvous and betwixt pants and heaves, orders of Limca and Thums Up flew around -- that they served both catapulted Hakkaland to higher levels of excellence even before the first bite was had. Then came the food -- Manchow Soup, Chicken Sweet Corn Soup -- both quite up there with the Kolkata of yore and I shall not ask if the Ajinomoto did it. Pepper Garlic Prawns -- succulent and fragrant with fried garlic and the kick of proper crushed peppercorns, this was delightful. So much so that after the first bite we were flagging down the waiter to put in orders for takeaways -- alas, that is the level of our gluttony. Tangled heap of Hakka Chicken Noodles, Manchurian Chicken and Szechuan Fish also arrived. As did Kolkata Chilli Chicken and Burnt Ginger Rice.

Pepper Garlic Prawns

Pepper Garlic Prawns

Now as I write this I realise that many emotions flowed through us. Meeting friends who all have Kolkata roots invokes a chaotic confusion of nostalgic animated chatter, roars of laughter rudely rising above all volume and disregarding any other restaurant goer. ‘Bangali adda’ was in full flow and I thought surely the other Bangali patrons would understand and smile indulgently, while the uninitiated would get a flavour of convivial Kolkata. The Kolkata Chilli Chicken transported us instantly into THAT exact Kolkata Chilli Chicken taste with kancha lonka (green chillies) and dark soy and we were incredulous and wistful. The chef was old school Calcutta surely, even some modern Kolkata Chinese eateries do not get this so right! Add this too to the takeaway orders, the waiter was told.

Kolkata Chilli Chicken

Kolkata Chilli Chicken

At the Burnt Ginger Rice I disdainfully looked thinking, this is just steamed rice with an excuse of a garnish, where is the mixed fried rice with baby prawns, pork and chicken and spiced in a way that only a Chinese fried rice can be? Till I had my first mouthful -- it was heavenly. I don’t even want to dissect what created the symphony in my mouth but this was the chhupa rustam, the dark horse. I’d go back to Hakkaland over and over again just for the Chilli Chicken and Burnt Ginger Rice.

Burnt Ginger Rice

Burnt Ginger Rice

In all the excitement, photographs were almost missed as some of the super close-ups you now see betray. Perhaps that in itself is testament to the ingenuity of Hakkaland, a slice of Kolkata Chinese, of Tangra’s tantalising talent, and harking back to a place and a time that I so adore.

Sushmita Dutta is born and bred in Calcutta and a Modern High School and Presidency alumnus. Currently living in UK and unleashing Kolkatayana on all who cross her path.

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