Annapurna: More Than Just Food
Original Publication 07/08/20
Photo courtesy of Intrepid Travel
The clock strikes eight. Evening falls and I'm sat in a restaurant with my partner, customarily sat next to rather than behind me, and a low grumble echoes in the pit of my stomach. I'm starving and I'm wondering if that growl is a result of just that, hunger, or, whether it's the excitement of what is to come, brought on by the smells and aromas and the memories they illicit.
But that is the beauty of this little restaurant in which we sit. Annapurna, a family-run Nepalese restaurant in Cheriton Place, Folkestone. It's the second time we've been since lockdown, and I forget how many times in total. A dozen maybe? It's by far our favourite restaurant in town. Perhaps, even, my favourite ever. Quite a statement, but one that I make with steely conviction.
The restaurant has garnered a cult following of sorts after it was written about in a rave review by The Times restaurant critic, Giles Coren. These days it is wise to book ahead. The decor is simple but inviting, with homages to the restaurant's cultural heritage scattered throughout. The staff and the owners are some of the kindest people you'll meet, as has often been my experience with Nepalese people.
All these attractive qualities aside, what we really come for is the food. Specifically, the momos (an Asian style steamed filled dumpling), panipuri (fried crisp hollow puri served with a mix of red onion, wheat, channa, tamarind, spices, and sauce) and, aloo nimki (a starter of potato paste, wheat crackers and Nepalese spices).
As a foodie and someone that finds simple joy in putting food down his gullet, it's a break from the norm with regards to my usual eating habits. I'm adventurous and I'm always keen to try new flavours. But, with Annapurna, we always find ourselves ordering these same three dishes. There's a lot of eager browsing through the menu beforehand, before we inevitably look to one another, and then to our waiter, and give in to our predetermined fate.
And that, as it so happens, is the feeling I'm chasing now. That feeling of deep satisfaction and blissful nostalgia I get from satisfying the craving that builds within me. In a nutshell, that's what makes this place so special for us. The wait time here is longer than most because, as stated on their menu, everything is cooked from scratch. No prep work is involved. So, while this may call for an exercise of patience (more manageable for some of us than others), it also invokes an intense build-up of anticipation, particularly for those regular patrons like us who are well aware of the delights that await from that kitchen.
What it also creates is an insistence on spending quality time with whomever you are sat beside. Be it friend, family or loved one. That sizeable window of time in which mutual conversation becomes obligatory gives us all a chance to get to know that person a little better, or a chance for us to loosen up with those we feel truly comfortable with. It promotes togetherness.
For my partner and I, we create our own little bubble where normal time ceases to operate. As a result, we enjoy this experience for exactly what it is. A chance to spend quality time with a loved one, eating food that evokes profound emotions. Next time, perhaps we'll order something different.
