Growing up in the Midwest of the USA, I guess I was more in a bubble than I ever knew. My diet consisted of meat and potatoes to the max, topped off with Italian and Mexican when we needed to switch it up; I never had a dish that had “curry” in the name until I was 16 and met my Indian friend, Rishika. I also never had a real Thai meal until I was 18, and our version of Chinese was what you picked up at the totally American-Asian buffet full of fried wontons and sweet and sour pork.
I remember discovering the joy of falafel at a hole-in-the-wall Lebanese restaurant in Peoria and making my mom join me for a kebab and it being a big deal. When I was at college, bubble tea blew my mind, and again, I remember making my mom stop off for some when she came to visit. When I look back, I wonder how we survived on such a limited range of food when the world is full of so much variation.
I also wonder how I managed to go so long without curry — flavorful, delicious curry.
Australia is a country that understands curry. It’s a dish on just about every menu, a flavor of instant pasta mixes and made on cooking shows through the country. Australians love curry, and I do, too. I eat a curry dish at least once a week!
I may still be a bit upset about the quality of Mexican food in this country (they’re making improvements), but I can totally respect the curry love.