Vince Bielski, Bon Vivant | By Steve De Long

"Tell me what you eat, and I will tell you what you are."
—Jean Anthelme Brillat-Savarin

This is a pretentious way to say you are what you eat. Vince is no exception to this rule. While he’s the kind of guy who embraces life with both hands, he doesn’t eat everything. I’ve seen him pass on breakfast at the Mickey D’s drive up window on the way to the first tee. His coffee-only policy may have been a way of maintaining an edge of hunger in battle but the way he made fun of my McWafflewich seemed to me a clear indication that VINCE BIELSKI DOES NOT EAT GARBAGE.

Still, I wouldn’t call him a gourmand (at least not to his face) – too pompous. Foodie? Almost, but that’s a stupid word. No, he’s more of a food adventurer, a bon vivant. What’s Italian for bon vivant? What’s Polish for bon vivant? That’s what he is.

So when Vince and the family came to London last year he was looking for something authentic to eat. Not some flash-frozen fish ‘n chips cottage pie pub-grub with industrial mushy peas (although that would be probably be very authentic). No, he wanted the real deal, the national pride, the apex of British cuisine: a good curry.

When asked what our favorite Indian restaurant was, we really didn’t have an answer. Tandori Lane is pretty good – or what about that other place? Bombay Bicycle Company? What about the fancy place next to the Thai place? Vince’s innate reporter’s shit detector could tell that we hadn’t had any decent Indian food in the 3 years since we moved here. God we’re lame.

In nothing flat, he was on the horn and had a handful of top choices hand-picked by his people in London. If he wasn’t such a great guy, you’d have to hate him. Top of the list was Tayyabs, a Pakistani place in the East End. A little known fact about Indian restaurants is that most of them are actually Pakistani restaurants.

The troops were mobilized and we set out for our early dinner reservation. Tayyabs is BYOB, so an urgent concern was the best thing to drink with Indian/Pakistani food. Beer, Gewurtztraminer, Riesling? In the end this was completely academic as the restaurant was located in an area drier than Karachi. Halal goat – yes. Beer, wine or liquor – no. Vince is not easily discouraged, so the men headed off in search of strong drink, promising a quick return to the women and children. Luckily we found an extortionist willing to part with a few cold brews within a half mile radius. This London?

Nevertheless, the food was amazing. The prawns were gigantic, the Tandoori sizzling and literally on fire but incredibly tender and juicy, even the lowly samosas a revelation. It was if we had never had Indian food before. We knew nothing.

Vince, please come back and show us where to eat.