Sher – E - Punjab: Phnom Penh curry house

As we entered the restaurant, at 6PM on a Sunday evening, we were surprised to see that there was only one table left free. For a restaurant that has only been open for three weeks, and has done no advertising yet, that is quite a feat. Even more so in a city likes Phnom Penh where the restaurant and bar markets are already oversaturated.

Taking the last free table we are handed menus by a smiling Khmer girl, whom then returns to fill up our glasses with iced water; swiftly dispensing with that nonsense we order up some large, 1 litre, bottles of Beer Lao, US$2. No sooner had we returned to the menus, when our smiling, yet nervous, waitress returned bearing complimentary poppadom and pickles.

After we had placed our order, with a very well spoken young Indian lad, we started discussing the various merits of the other existing curry houses in Phnom Penh, we had got no further than saying a few harsh things about one certain establishment when the charming young lad had reappeared with three complementary glass of Johnny Walker Black; the reason he gave was ‘because it is Sunday’, well, never let it be said that I did not like Sundays’ – chin chin.

As the discussion led further into Phnom Penh’s culinary past – Peace Man “there was this curry house on Monivong Boulevard about 7 years ago…” - I scanned the room, taking in our fellow diners and picking up hints of their conversation. There was a trio of young ladies fresh of the boat and on holiday in Cambodia; a youngish expatriate guy with his Khmer wife and her brother (who seemed somewhat suspicious of the food), an older Singaporean gentleman was dining alone in one corner, content to pick at his meal slowly over a long time. On one of the tables out side sat a very elderly gentleman, that I believe may have been American – the Red Sox tee-shirt and baseball cap gave me this clue. As well as two middle aged Sikhs, complete with turbans; all in all quite the cultural mixture.

Before long our food started to turn up.

The Governor’s meal turn up first, a Chicken Tikka Masala, US$3:50 served in a miniature copy of a balti dish. He pronounced it rich and spicy – much like his good self.

My Chicken Rogan Josh US$3:50 was equally excellent, a medium to hot in spiciness. The surprise came when I flaked one of the lumps of chicken apart to discover that the rich brown colour of the sauce carried all the way through the meat, obviously this dish had been well marinated and cooked slowly.

The Peace Man was a little miffed that his Gosht Mutton Masala, US$3:50 did not come in a balti style dish, but rather on an ordinary plate, but that soon passed as he tasted his curry. The mutton was soft and tender, again speaking of proper preparation and cooking; rather than just fry up some meat and toss in a jar of sauce.

Only the Governor had bothered to order basmati rice US$0:50, Peace Man and myself are both Midlanders from the UK and as such had grown up with large Indian and Pakistani populations – in short, we eat our curries with bread, not rice. And what a selection we had ordered; Butter Naan US$1:20, Tandoori Roti US$0:70, Garlic Naan US$1:30, chapatti’s US$0:50 – okay, we may have gone a little overboard on the bread, but it was well worth it.

At this point, the Peace Man went over to the owner and started requesting some obscure Indian singers CD to be played, he returned happy, and slightly surprised that they had it and were happy to play it for him.

As we had finished eating, the nervous, grinning (near gurning) waitress reappeared with three small bowls of complimentary banana slices. Only a small finger banana worth each, but a pleasant enough nibble after a warming curry.

A few more beers followed, the restaurant started to thin out a little and we felt thoroughly satiated.

Along with the bill came three little pots of the traditional, liquorish flavoured sweets that are served as a digestif in India. All things considered, we deemed the US$26 bill quite reasonable, once we had taken into consideration the US$12 worth of beer.

The one small downside I suppose was the inexperience of the staff, the girls’ grins hiding just how nervous they really were; but that should improve with time, or with hiring experienced staff.

A couple of days later, I had just been stood up for Brunch on the riverfront by a ‘busy’ Khmer colleague. Rather than endure an hour on the front being pestered to buy postcards, books and my shoes polished every couple of minutes I slipped a couple of blocks up the road for a spot of Indian Luncheon at the Sher-E-Punjab.

Again, upon being seated I received complementary poppadoms and pickles. However, this time I opted for a Gosht Mutton Masala US$3.50 supported by a Butter Naan bread US$1:30
I also noted that on the menu they carried 42 different vegetarian main courses, with 15 vegetarian starters; that should keep those pussies among you who are a squeamish about red meat and bloody steaks quiet for a while, or then again, maybe not.

The meal appeared so swiftly that I thought that they must have brought me somebody else’s, but no, it was mine. I had not even had enough time to read through all the job advertisements in the Cambodia (rarely) Daily (almost).

The mutton, again, had obviously been well marinated and cooked slowly, it was tender, it was juicy and had none of the usual, tough, characteristics of the meat. The sauce was onion, tomatoes, lentils and coriander and had just enough spices to make it a comfortable ‘medium’ for a lunchtime – no beer – curry.

Afterwards, I again received a complementary banana and the bill came with the little liquorish flavoured titbits.

As I left the restaurant for the second time in as many days feeling as replete as before and seriously considering taking the afternoon off work to lay in front of the telly, on the sofa, stroking my increasingly large restaurant reviewers belly.