Gateway to a potentially fascinating museum: A review of Seacity Museum, Southampton

I've been meaning to visit Seacity in my hometown of Southampton since it opened but as is often the case with these things, it was only the arrival of family from India this month which actually prompted my visit. In the two years since it opened, the "Gateway to the World" gallery has become British-Museum vast in my imagination, so excited was I, avid researcher of lascars, at the possibilities the exhibit might hold. Southampton, the city that the P&O sailed eastwards from since the 1840s, always cropped up in my archive searches for lascar material (a future research project is brewing away there) but I have never had time to explore further into the entwined histories of migration and maritime labour that characterise Southampton as a city. "Gateway to the World", well it sent a thrill through me when I first read of it.

I've come away with mixed feelings. I'm surprised at how moving and engaging the Titanic Gallery was, as someone who's always refused to watch The Film and who's always been a little bemused by the fanaticism the historical event inspires in some. But the Seacity's take on was  to read the Titanic tragedy through the lives of the local Southampton people who worked on it and on how the city was impacted so profoundly by the tragedy. One exceptionally moving feature was a large map of Southampton that spread below our feet, on which all the Southampton lives lost were marked with dots. So many dots, from my old house in Inner Avenue, to the Shirley fields then on the outskirts of the city, and beyond. The scale of the ship - so hard to comprehend - told through cutlery and food stores. And I loved that we saw the second class berths - which looked tiny - rather than the exaggerated opulence of the first.

But I did speed through the Titanic galleries, impatient to get to the Gateway of the World. With such anticipation, it was always going to disappoint. My favourite element of the "Gateway" theme ended up being the map of the naval routes that papers the walls outside the exhibit. As bits of this map are folded over cornices and the like, a full flat version - or even a large globe - would have been wonderful at the beginning of the exhibit.

Instead, the two and half room exhibit features a chaotic mixture of stories of travels to and through Southampton - Roman, military, medieval and some more recent. No direct mention of the P&O, and not, alas, a single picture or account of lascars working the Southampton ships.

I found the way in which Southampton's twentieth century diasporas have been represented in the exhibition most problematic. These little boxes of migrant history are possibly the worst way to render the rich and diverse multiculture that makes up Southampton, segregating each separate ethnic community in space and time. There's no suggestion of intersections between kinds of identity or of the experience of communities living together, of the city's annual interfaith peace walk, for example, or of the kind of neighbourly activism that has given television producers such a hard time recently when they tried to make an inflammatory ant-immigration documentary in the city. Or the fact that many of the ethnic communities featured have links to Southampton that date back further than the assigned "decade"on the box. The boxes - so slight and stereotyped in their content, so tokenistic in approach, made me feel quite sad.

I do think the curators were faced with a huge challenge - and a small space. Southampton's migration and naval history is such a long, multilayered one, like East London it resists easy chronological tellings. I can see the intention behind the way things are arranged - to view different empires, worldviews, forms of travel comparatively. But when different voices and sounds shout at you from the sides of a relatively small room, when there's no map or dates to anchor you (pardon the pun) it all gets rather overwhelming.

But it's a young museum at just two years old, and I understand that the larger portion of space has to be devoted to the city's Titanic story for pragmatic reasons alone. The space is visually exciting, and makes what could seem dull - maritime history - seem both lived and living. It's great to have such a modern, vibrant celebration of the city at the heart of it's developing new "cultural quarter". So whilst I wasn't entirely satisfied by my trip, I can also see Seacity gradually evolving, remaking itself, much like Southampton continues to do.

Rabbit Recipes: Bengali White Chicken Curry (Rezala) - the original korma? And a waffle on Bengali history...

I think this dish might be the origin of the British chicken korma. I can't say for sure, because I've never eaten one - curry snob, me - but the creaminess and gentleness of the flavours (and the fact that it comes from the region most "Indian" chefs in Britain come from - suggests to me that it might be the inspiration.

I'm always intrigued by the dual personality of Bangladeshi cuisine, which I think might be related to the history of Islam in Bengal. One aspect of Bengali cuisine is almost East Asian - having more in common with the flavours of Vietnam and Thailand than the "curries" we know of in Britain. The flavours are hot, sharp, pungent, with thin broths, a lot of vegetables, fish and seafood rather than meat, and pounded chilli and fish pastes. But then, another aspect is very rich, fragrant and reminiscent of Persian cuisine. I think it's a difference between what's been identified as the atraf and the ashraf sections of the Bengali Muslim population, a division that goes back to the early nineteenth century as historian Richard Eaton has written about - the former, the agragrian, rural population, and the latter, the urban, middle class and notably, for a time, Urdu-speaking section of the community. It would make sense, right? The hot thin broths, wholesome and hearty, eking out precious harvested supplies for as long as possible; the Persian inspired foods created for a wealthier population always looking to aspire to the cultural heritage of Persia and Afghanistan. (Still ongoing - both my sister's and my name are Persian in origin). Now, both cuisines are eaten by most sections of the population - though with obvious regional differences. But rezala reminds me a lot of Persian food, and I wonder if it was eaten by the ashraf as they read their ghazals and dreamt of (and up) their Iranian and Peshwari ancestors.

It doesn't look that special, does it? (My amazingly rubbish photography skills aren't helping it, though, to be fair). But trust me - it really is. This is my sister the spice-weener's favourite curry, and also has made it onto Bartimaeus's short list of "Bengali curries that taste nice to a Gujarati palate" (hmph). It's definitely one for the spice-shy - but that doesn't mean it's not full of flavour. It's rich, made with a base of softened grated onions, creamy and sweet from the greek yoghurt and brown sugar, and aromatic, scented with saffron and cardamom. In Bangladesh, it's usually eaten as a special occasion dish with a buttery pilau or to accompany a biryani, but I made it yesterday, just cos.

My recipe is inspired by one on My Saffron Kitchen, but simplified a lot and adapted via how I know my mum makes it. I have to say, in all my attempts to replicate my mother's cooking, this has come closest! Whilst there's a lot of aromatics involved in place of spice, making for a long ingredients list, this is actually a ridiculously simple curry to make, but tastes like a lot of effort has gone into it!

Whilst you can serve it with pilau for a truly indulgent dinner, I served it yesterday with basmati - just simple, clean, pure. Cream on snow white prettiness. (Just to clarify, we then had spinach dal - there's not a meal in the Rabbit-Bartimaeus household that doesn't feature vegetables! But I always eat my dal last, as is customary.) Either way, rezala makes for a comforting, soothing, winter dinner.

This is yet another recipe that requires 24 HOURS marinading if possible (though yesterday I made it on the spur of the moment, and left it for an hour and it tasted fine). I think if you wanted to make this an easy two-pot meal, chucking in some frozen peas or some spinach a few minutes before it's done would be fine.

1 800g pack of chicken thighs and legs (chicken breast if you wish, but it's generally not good in curries I think as the bones impart so much chickeny flavour)
1/2 400ml pot of real full fat greek yoghurt (none of this "greek-style, fat free, full of sugar" malarkey here please)
2tbsp double cream
2tsp fresh ground black peppercorns
1 3cm stick of ginger, grated into 1tbsp of puree (if you freeze the ginger and then let it thaw ever so slightly, it's much easier to grate and keeps for ever)
1 tbsp of crushed/pureed garlic
2 medium onions, grated (I used my mini Kenwood processor for this otherwise tearifying job)
1 tbsp ghee
2 tsp garam masala
4 cloves
2 bay leaves
1 piece of cinnamon bark
1 green chilli, sliced in half, deseeded
4-5 strands of saffron
2 tsp rose water (not essential, couldn't really taste it in the final dish)
5 green cardamom pods
1 tbsp green raisins (gentler in flavour than dark ones, though you could add 1/2 tsp of those if you can't find these prettiest jewels of dried fruits - they're easily found in Asian and Middle Eastern shops though)
1/2 tsp grated nutmeg
2 tbsp brown sugar
salt to taste

Mix the cream, yoghurt, ginger paste, garlic paste and ground pepper together into a marinade. Mix the chicken into it thoroughly (slashing the meat if you like) and marinade overnight or for 1 hour at least.

Melt ghee in a large heavy bottomed shallow saucepan on medium-low heat. Add the grated onions and a pinch of salt (to stop onions from browning too fast) and cook slowly until fragrant and a soft paste.

Add the green chilli, garam masala, nutmeg, bay leaves, cinnamon bark, cloves and cardamom pods, and fry on slightly higher heat until spices release their scent.

Add the chicken, being sure to pour in all of the cream-yoghurt marinade. Stir thoroughly.

Salt to taste. Add saffron, rose water, raisins and brown sugar, and 1/2 cup of water.

Cook on medium-high until the chicken is cooked through.

Serve to spice-weeners and spice-champs alike.