The British Curry and Koran Takeaway

Read Time:5 Minute, 18 Second

by Neil Bamforth

I am particularly partial to curry. Quite frequently we order a delivery takeaway. Occasionally we go to a particularly fine Indian restaurant not too far away but if we decide on a delivery takeaway we have, for almost 30 years, used the same restaurant very close to home. They know us and we know them. The restaurant in question is, of course, not really ‘Indian’ but Bangladeshi as are the majority of supposedly ‘Indian’ restaurants in Britain.

The distinction between Indian and Bangladeshi restaurants is usually lost on the Brits. A curry is a curry is a curry after all.

The difference is, a genuine ‘Indian’ restaurant is probably going to be Sikh or Hindu. Another alternative is a ‘Nepalese’ restaurant which is, of course, neither Indian nor Bangla Deshi albeit marvellous curry’s can be eaten in one.

For the geographically challenged amongst you, a Nepalese restaurant is generally owned and run by Nepalese from Nepal. Nepal is close to India and is home to The Gurkha’s – the famous soldiers who have for decades served in The British Army.

Bangladeshi restaurants are almost universally owned by Muslims. That is simply because Bangla Desh, formerly East Pakistan, is, like Pakistan itself, a Muslim country.

Anyway. Enough background information.

‘Our’ delivery takeaway restaurant is one we haven’t actually eaten ‘in’ for many years. I actually mentioned that on the phone whilst ordering a delivery takeaway.  I said “We must come and dine in soon, it’s been years!” The manager said “Oh, we aren’t licenced anymore” (clearly remembering my penchant for downing several bottles of Cobra beer whilst dining) which surprised me, albeit Bangla Deshi resaurants are Muslim owned, as they generally cater for Brits, they generally serve alcohol.

It’s good for business.

Actually, sidetracking slightly, an old pub closed down in my home town of Oldham. It was bought by a local Muslim businessman who reopened it as ‘The Halal Inn’. An alcohol free gastro / curry pub.

That I should live to see a pub with no beer. Oh dear.

Right. Back to the tale in hand. I ordered our delivery takeaway and the chap who delivered it is a chap we have known for almost 25 years.

Well, when I say we’ve ‘known’ him, he has been at the restaurant for 25 years so we sort of ‘know him’ and he sort of ‘knows us’. He began as a young waiter and now manages the place.

We are regular customers – actually it was he who told me over the phone they no longer held an alcohol licence.

Anyway. An earlier delivery take away resulted in him looking at my garden and extolling the joys of home grown vegetables. It was a brief conversation but a pleasent one. He is a nice chap and I was quite comfortable showing him my garden after he had expressed an interest in seeing it.

This delivery takeaway however, frankly, worried the hell out of me.

The food was beautiful – as always. It was the behaviour of our 25 years standing ‘friend’ that alarmed me.

As he came through our front door I jokingly said “You get younger every time I see you!” – there is a degree of accuracy in this as he has retained a very youthfull face although his long beard has turned grey. (He didn’t have a beard at all until about three years ago).

He placed our delivery food on the worktop in the kitchen and then started to tell me a story that completely bewildered me about someone who was a prophet in the Koran who was desired by his Godmother and, somewhere along the way, I gathered this story related to my comment on his youthful appearance.

Now to say I was taken aback is an understatement.

He stood in my kitchen telling me this bewildering tale and then started to tell me I should read the Koran and I would ‘find myself’.

My comment that I wasn’t aware I’d actually lost myself went unheeded. I tried again. “I’m always losing things” I said, “I lose my socks, my gardening tools, my car keys, my phone. You name it I’ve lost it but, believe me, even I’ve never managed to lose myself. I’m too big and fat to lose me”

I smiled winningly.

He then started on about more of the bloody Koran. I couldn’t shut him up. He went on and on and on and on.

I stood there with a frozen smile on my face thinking ‘how the hell do I get the mad bastard out of my house short of picking him up by the scruff of the neck and chucking him out?’

Seriously. This was some very very weird stuff. Well, it was very weird in my kitchen. My kitchen had never seen or heard the like before – and, if my kitchen could speak, I suspect it would rather not hear or see the like again.

My wife, Carol, was sitting in the living room and could hear a conversation going on. She’s used to me chatting to every Tom, Dick and Harry and, initially, thought nothing of it. Eventually she started to listen in and realised something was badly wrong.

She came into the kitchen and said “Right, let’s get this food plated up before it goes cold”

Nope. That didn’t stop him. “The Koran is such a good guide to life” he stated.

Enough.

“Yeah, well my good guide to life is to eat my curry warm so ta very much I’ll show you out” and I gently prodded him down the hallway.

I opened the front door.

“Well, nice to see you again mate” I said with finality.

He started again. The Koran this and the Koran that. I should read the Koran and I would find Islam is the greatest thing ever and on and on and on and on.

“Bye” I said shutting the door in his face.

I can’t actually remember anything freaking me out this much since I saw ‘The Exorcist‘ aged 16.

We’ve known the guy for 25 years! Yes, over the last few years he’s grown a big beard and yes, apparently his restaurant is now an alcohol free zone but really? Trying to convert me to Islam? Really?

The above is an absolutely true story from last Friday August 18th.

WTF is going on?

About Post Author

Neil Bamforth

I am English first, British second and never ever European. I have supported Oldham Athletic FC for 50 years which has made me immune from depression. My taste buds have died due to too many red hot curries so I drink Kronenburg beer and milk - sometimes in the same glass. I have a wife, daughter, 9 cats and I like toast.
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6 years ago

Neil I couldn’t have kept myself in check. Good for you.

Peggy55
6 years ago

This little accounting was fun to read there Norman/Neil, and, I am gobsmacked at the idea someone you’ve known for so long would approach you in that way. Also gobsmacked you didn’t smack him in the gob. Good on ya!

Neil Bamforth
Reply to  Peggy55
6 years ago

???? Ta Peggy. I was more surprised Carol didn’t hit him on the head with her frying pan!

6 years ago

Well I would have thrown him out at the first mention of it Neil, so you are a better man than I….

Neil Bamforth
Reply to  Ron Reed
6 years ago

The guys been delivering to us for 25 years. I was sort of stunned.

A stranger yes. Scruff of neck and out but you think you know someone…..

jess
6 years ago

OMG,I have a thing with Jehovah witnesses when they come to my house, if they manage to get through the gate. I have been known to ask them if they are here for the orgy, dressed in only a towel and tell them come right in, make yourself at home. Yeah I am awful that way.

Neil Bamforth
Reply to  jess
6 years ago

????????????

Reply to  jess
6 years ago

I’m awful that way as well. I don’t want those loons anywhere near me, and I certainly don’t want anyone banging a bible in my presence.

jess
Reply to  Professor Mike
6 years ago

As you know, I recently had to do a church lady routine and it was sometimes hard to not tell some of them to just fuck off with their bullshit.

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