Sunrise Foodstop, Well's Terrace, Finsbury Park, London N4
Kicking my heels at Finsbury Park bus stands yesterday, I nipped into the Sunrise Foodstop convenience and headed straight for the chiller. A small pile of Quality Foods samosas lay there. The usual trinity were present: vegetable, chicken and lamb. But nestling within that batch, to my utter bewilderment, sat something I never imagined I'd see. I rubbed my eyes. Could it be? A (pre-packaged) traditional samosa with an English CHEESE and ONION filling. I shuddered at the thought, but out of sheer intrigue, I had to try one. I handed over my 95p and went back to the bus stop.
This sort of thing has happened before, readers. In the complex world of curries, of course, the Chicken Tikka Masala was (apparently) concocted in Birmingham to cater for the milder British tastebud. This massively succesful hybrid was declared Britain's national dish by Robin Cook in 2001.
At street-snack level, there was a brief spell at the end of last decade where London Treats shops experimented with spinach and ricotta samosas. A mistake, but arguably excusable for its audacity. Production-line cheese and onion, however, really is the devil of pastry filling. A bland stodge, a uniform goop lazily pumped into pastry.
Still, I gave it a whirl. The cheese and onion innard had the same consistency and smell as its English pasty cousin, although in fairness, Quality Foods have taken strides to add zing to their product. Cumin, chili, and garam masala powder have been added to the mix, but this doesn't distract from the slimy, factory-made feel of the filling. On top of this, it just seems wrong. A good samosa will trigger intrigue with a varied or unusual flavour or texture, this one is bite after bite of the same.
On my bus journey I wondered why Quality Foods added this line to their range. In the face of stiff competition from other street foods, it may be simply that the London samosa needs a shake-up. But whilst I applaud Quality for attempting innovation, they must go back to the chopping board, this is a culinary gaffe.
Kicking my heels at Finsbury Park bus stands yesterday, I nipped into the Sunrise Foodstop convenience and headed straight for the chiller. A small pile of Quality Foods samosas lay there. The usual trinity were present: vegetable, chicken and lamb. But nestling within that batch, to my utter bewilderment, sat something I never imagined I'd see. I rubbed my eyes. Could it be? A (pre-packaged) traditional samosa with an English CHEESE and ONION filling. I shuddered at the thought, but out of sheer intrigue, I had to try one. I handed over my 95p and went back to the bus stop.
This sort of thing has happened before, readers. In the complex world of curries, of course, the Chicken Tikka Masala was (apparently) concocted in Birmingham to cater for the milder British tastebud. This massively succesful hybrid was declared Britain's national dish by Robin Cook in 2001.
At street-snack level, there was a brief spell at the end of last decade where London Treats shops experimented with spinach and ricotta samosas. A mistake, but arguably excusable for its audacity. Production-line cheese and onion, however, really is the devil of pastry filling. A bland stodge, a uniform goop lazily pumped into pastry.
Still, I gave it a whirl. The cheese and onion innard had the same consistency and smell as its English pasty cousin, although in fairness, Quality Foods have taken strides to add zing to their product. Cumin, chili, and garam masala powder have been added to the mix, but this doesn't distract from the slimy, factory-made feel of the filling. On top of this, it just seems wrong. A good samosa will trigger intrigue with a varied or unusual flavour or texture, this one is bite after bite of the same.
On my bus journey I wondered why Quality Foods added this line to their range. In the face of stiff competition from other street foods, it may be simply that the London samosa needs a shake-up. But whilst I applaud Quality for attempting innovation, they must go back to the chopping board, this is a culinary gaffe.
