Review of Rasam Soup
The Rating #
A challenging, insufficiently rewarding experience of soup in itself, but the healthy portions and the good-will generating from soup certainly gives cause for pause! Five stars.
Vendor #
Swagath Indian Cuisine, East Lansing, Michigan
Bill #
- Pistachio Kulfi $3.29
- Rasam soup $4.39
- Samosa Chaat $6.59
Total before tax, gratuity, and delivery charge $14.27
Review #
Broth #
Usually I like sourness in soups very much and the Rasam was no exception when it came to the broth. Some of my favorite soups are sour (e.g., żurek, made from sour rye) but my concerns with non-broth elements overrides my appreciation of the broth here.
The fat globules at the surface of the soup captured with my semi-professional camera's flash. Take a look at that. Great stuff!
Non-Broth Components #
- Grain yellow things, which I now know are called chana dal. Gritter than they looked.
- Intimidating bright red and dark purple peppers
- An overabundance of peppercorns
- Chunks of tomato. These were delightful when I came across them, but sadly I didn't come across them enough.
- Unidentified leafy herbs
- Some roughage that was tough if not impossible to chew; seemed like husks.
All in all, with the aforementioned non-broth elements, few of which I have much experience with, there was a certain excitement to slurping up this soup and not knowing what will be in the next bite. The problems arose when I got a spoonful of peppercorns or the odd red pepper.
Spice #
Very spicy. Loved this aspect of the Rasam.
Smell #
Quite a pungent soup with a lingering presence in my apartment (likely due in large part to poor ventilation); I don't mind at all.
Mode of Consumption #
I'm used to eating my soups from my yellow mug, apt for alternating between drinking the soup and using a spoon. When it comes to these larger format soups, clearly I need to buy some bowls! First, I transferred the soup from the plastic container in which it was delivered into a large plastic measuring cup that I bought from Walmart when I first moved here. Then, I moved the cargo once again into a mason jar once it become clear that spooning the soup was beyond my patience at the time. Once the soup became drinkable, however, I did lose some of the depth of insight that a spoon affords, in training the user to take the soup gradually and perhaps a bit more mindfully than when it can simply be drunk.
Portion #
A cup and a half, or about a third of a liter.
Presentation #
The soup was delivered in the typical standard plastic to-go container for soups.
Comparison #
I had no prior experience with this particular soup. The sourness called to mind something like a hot and sour soup one might find at a Thai restaurant. The impossibly hot peppers reminded me of accidentally eating a very hot pepper a couple years back in Chicago's China town. Unpleasant; altogether lacking the quasi-pleasant effect that very spicy food can have.
On the side #
Samosa Chaat before, and Pistachio Kulfi afterwards. The ice cream was packed with pistachios and soothed my semi-offended taste buds. But this is a review of the soup, not the ice cream.
Frame #
Extremely hungry, a little hungover.