Mulligatawny soup

Ornate pubs and listed toilets
Top hats, bustles and pepper water


Over the last two bank holiday weekends I succumbed to temptation and joined a like minded group of friends on the Liverpool pub run. To call it a pub crawl would do it an injustice. We are far more discerning than that. Being of a more senior demographic we are looking for traditional pubs, dark wood paneling, big solid bars, brass fittings, wood or stone floors (preferably slopping), cask beer, real ale and in my case a great selection of whiskies. It is hard to fault a pub that has it's whisky listed in a menu folder!

Of all the fantastic pubs we visited, thanks to Ken our guide and guru of all things Liverpudlian, the standout drinking establishment must be 'The Phil' or to give it it's full title The Philharmonic Dining Rooms.

Opposite the Liverpool Philharmonic Hall (hence the name) and commissioned towards the end of the last century, well actually the century before last now. Although we are already ten and a bit years into this one I've not quite got my head around it yet. Indeed I'm still having millennium bug flashbacks. Built in the style of Gentleman's club the Phil lays claim to be the most ornate pub in Briton. It is certainly magnificent and even though I try not to endorse or give recommendations this pub is a must be visit if you find yourself in Liverpool's fair city. Have a look at the photographs on CAMRA's historic pubs website and don't forget to have a peek in the Gents, it's listed!

Standing at the bar in the spectacular 'drinking lobby' I couldn't help thinking of frock coats and top hats, bustles and Suffragettes, Empire and mulligatawny soup. Why mulligatawny, I've no idea. Up to that time I'd only every had mulligatawny from a tin!

That was then but this is now...

After a trawl of the internet, and reference to the works of Ms Acton and Ms Beeton I would be totally ready to believe the maker of my tinned mulligatawny if they had claimed their boast of 57 varieties referred only to versions of that very soup. Everyone it would seem that spent time, and some that didn't, on the Indian subcontinent in the 1800's, have their own authentic version. These authentic versions of what in essence is curry soup differ in the extreme from vegetarian spiced water to meat enriched porridge.

When faced with any subject that requires deep and complex research there is only one place to start, that's with someone else's work. Usually in cases like this I turn to the food writer and one woman knowledge base Felicity Cloake but this time I'm turning to Rhona Aitken and her Memsahib's Cookbook. I could only find a second hand copy of this easy reading little book but I don't have a problem with that. There is something quite comforting about second hand books especially cookery books.

The name Mulligatawny is generally accepted as a combination of Tamil words milagu (pepper) thanni (water) although my lady of reference claims it to be a combination of molegoo (pepper) and tunes (water). It's the same translation so it's no big deal. Perhaps the Tamil spoken in India and Ceylon have slightly different spellings, it is after all, claimed to be one of the longest surviving classical languages in the world.

In the chapter on soups in David Burton's The Raj at Table he gives a 1881 recipe from Madras for pepper water. He follows this with a couple of recipes for Dhall, or Red Pulse Pepper Water Soup followed by several recipes for Mulligatawny Soup, many of which include meats such as chicken or mutton. This may well give an insight into the development of our soup but it isn't easy reading so back to Ceylon and Rhona Aitken or more precisely Soloman, her cook.

Soloman's mulligatawny soup recipe as given in The Memsahib's Cookbook has a real feel of authenticity to it. Starting with a basic peppered water consisting of stock, coconut cream, cumin and coriander, chilli powder and tomato purée simmered for 15 minutes or so before adding 'flavourings'. The flavourings can be whatever takes your fancy, fired onions, chutney 'juice', lightly crushed cardamon seeds and good old salt and freshly ground pepper are some of the suggestions in the recipe. The soup we are told was served in huge Victorian soup bowls with side bowls of cooked rice, lime wedges, grated coconut, snippets of fried bacon, hard boiled eggs and sliced chillies. The idea being that everyone could help themselves to what they wanted and ending up with a quite substantial meal. I like adding sprinkles to soup and the idea of adding boiled rice to the bowl before ladling soup over the top sounds very of the time and place to me.

Soup recipes are a bit of a misnomer for me. For me they are only a guide, after all it depends what's in the cupboard, veg rack or fridge - nobody goes shopping for soup ingredients. Do they?

My basic mulligatawny methodology consists of gently frying chopped onions in a mix of oil (not olive - that is so wrong) and butter or if you are really going for it, a little ghee. Cook low and slow until the onions are soft and golden. Next add the curry flavouring. Use your own spice mix but don't forget to toast the spices before grinding or pestle-ing them, use curry powder but give it a little time in the oil before moving on, or, my personal favourite bang in a spoon full, or two, of curry paste from a jar. Give a swish round before adding your liquid. Water is as good as anything. Peppered water is prepared!

Now to make it your own. Want it coconut-ty and creamy, this makes me think of Goa or Ceylon, add some creamed coconut. Might have just stated the obvious there. Want it a little thicker, add some cubed potato or a handful of red lentils, yellow split peas or the like. You can add rice but I prefer a spoonful of cooked rice in the soup bowl as mentioned before. I like a bit of sweetness with anything curry. If you are the same try adding some peeled and cubed eating apple or a dollop of mango chutney.

To veggie or not to veggie! The original pepper water 'soup' was almost certainly meat free, but being a red blooded male I crave a bit of animal flesh. If your stomach has just turned over go to the next chapter, go directly to the next chapter, do not pass this full stop. A handful of minced chicken or turkey works well as does a little minced lamb but for me minced beef takes too long to cook and break down. A small slice of braising or similar cut of steak chopped is a better option.

Simmer, simmer, simmer. Simmer gently until everything is nice and tender then in with that traditional South Asian kitchen tool, the stick blender. Bring back up to temperature and serve poured over boiled rice as suggested or add a sprinkle of chopped coriander or a swirl of coconut cream or yogurt.

Rhona Aitken prefaces her chapter on soups with a nice little story. It tells of a pernickety Memsahib who was forever badgering her cook about the boiling and filtering of water. One day she went to the kitchen and found the cook straining the soup through one of the Sahib's socks. Seeing the horror on the Memsahib's face he cheerfully reassured her "Oh Memsahib, don't worry - it's not one of his clean ones!". A technique still used in some of the restaurants in town I believe.

Much as I like the style and grandeur of the Victorian era I can't help feeling that it must have been a minefield for the politically correct. For example if a lady wearing a bustle ask 'does my bottom look big in this' what is the appropriate reply!