Name: Bitter melon, sometimes known as bitter gourd or bitter squash.
Appearance: Decidedly reptilian, like an alligator with a skin condition. Its thick, mottled exterior is as deeply ridged as a sea trench and feels rubbery to the touch. Upon splitting it, I discover spongy white pith and cream-coloured seeds. So far, so weird – but it does smell appetisingly fresh and green. Maybe it’s good for me.
Where do they eat it? Bitter melon is eaten in India, China, and across much of South East Asia, in stirfries, curries and as a side dish. The variety I tried was the kind commonly found in India.
Cost and sourcing: I bought two medium bitter melons from Lulu for 2 dirhams and 80 fils. Bargain.
So, what does it taste like? Okay, here’s a tip: don’t eat bitter melon raw. Despite being similar in texture to a bell pepper, this is not a salad ingredient. Turns out that bitter melon didn’t get its name because of a well-publicised Twitter spat with a courgette – it got it because it tastes like that powdery residue you get on your tongue when you don’t swallow your paracetomol fast enough. In the spirit of giddy, naïve exploration, I find this out the hard way – but once I’m over the crest of the first wave of bitterness, I’m surprised to discover that I quite like the sharp, herbaceous undertones of the vegetable. Okay. Let’s go.
Preparation: Somewhere between my first and second glass of water following the initial taste-test, I’m struck with a brain wave: perhaps bitter melon, like aubergine, should be salted before cooking to help counteract some of its extreme bitterness. It’s at this point that I turn to my friend Google to find out more about the preparation of this tough customer, and it transpires that my hunch was correct – salting helps expel some of the vegetable’s bitter juices. Other tips involve offsetting the gourd’s flavour by pairing it with milder vegetables, such as onion and potato, or cooking it with jaggery (a type of unrefined sugar often eaten in Asia). I’d like the bitter melon to be the star of my recipe, so salting seems like the way to go in this instance; but do bear the other tips in mind if you decide to experiment.
So, to prepare my gourd, I scoop out the pith and seeds and slice the shell into thin pieces. I then salt the slices and leave them to think long and hard about their life choices for 30 minutes, before rinsing them in cold water.
Okay, so what did you do with it? Bitter melon strikes me as an – ahem – acquired taste, and one to be enjoyed in small doses, so I decide to make a dish that can be enjoyed accompanied by other nibbles, or perhaps as an entrée to an Indian main course. A cooling raita, or sweet chilli sauce, would work well here.
Crispy bitter melon bites
Serves 3-4, as part of a larger meal
Ingredients:
1 medium bitter melon
100g (about ½ cup) all-purpose flour
1 tsp turmeric
1 small fresh chilli, chopped finely
1 medium egg
1 small bunch of parsley, chopped finely
Salt
Vegetable oil, for frying
Water
Method:
- First, prepare your bitter melon. Slice off the ends, then cut the gourd lengthways. Scoop out the pith and seeds with a teaspoon and discard; then cut the shell into slices about 0.5cm thick. Put the slices into a bowl with plenty of salt and set aside for around 30 minutes.
- Meanwhile, make the batter. Combine the flour, chilli and turmeric in a bowl, then beat in the egg, before adding enough water to form a thin batter. Test its consistency: if you can write your name in it using a trail of batter from your fork, it’s the correct thickness. Finally, stir the parsley into the batter.
- Rinse the bitter melon slices in cold water and squeeze them gently to remove any residual juice.
- Heat about 2cm of oil in a frying pan. While it’s heating, coat the bitter melon slices in the batter.
- Fry the bitter melon slices in batches, turning halfway through, until the batter is crunchy and lightly coloured. Drain on kitchen paper, sprinkle with salt, and serve immediately.
The verdict: 2/5
If you aren’t a fan of strong flavours, steer clear of bitter melon – even after salting, rinsing and coating in a vivid yellow turmeric batter, I could still taste the inherent bitterness of the gourd. I didn’t find the flavour overly offputting – I still managed to clear my plate – and I can see the vegetable working well elsewhere, such as in a Chinese or Indian dish, particularly when cooked with jaggery. Despite this, however, I don’t think bitter melon will be forming part of my regular cooking.
Weird Vegetable Wednesdays 