Love Letter to Phnom Penh Dosa

Review of (the) Dosa Corner

July 3, 2013

When the temperature finally drops to 28 degrees and those of us living here breathe a big sigh about it being almost over (the Phnom Penh heat) there are lots of reasons to eat Indian snacks. I’m talking about a quick, made to order, deeply satisfying, just fine to be on the go, bite to eat. What India is famous for. Dosa.

Dosa are simple. You buy only one. That’s it. Because it’s a fully integrated food experience. One hot wrap filled with savory pleasure. Hand broken into smaller bites each dipped in chutney and sambhar and shoveled into waiting lips. Dosa are one of life’s magic moments. Where, like many simple pleasures, little things mean a lot. Good Dosa defy the laws of physics. They begin with a paper thin pancake light enough to almost see through. Yet sturdy enough to use as a fork, knife and spoon rolled into one. I don’t know why but she (my thing) reminds me of the best silk- strong, yet light. Woven yet solid. A living vessel.

Now if you know Dosa (like I know Dosa) your baseline standard (usually somewhere downtown) is a folded semolina pancake. Fine-grained and tasting smooth and slightly buttery (actually ghee-ey, if I can coin a term.) I’m sure you get lots of these in your town. This is fine and good and will serve you well.

Until one day you hit a whole other Dosa level. I’m talking about walking, tuk-tuking, biking, jogging, astral projecting or literally running out of gasoline on the corner of Streets 51 and Sihanouk in Phnom Penh (as I did when first discovered this spot. ) At The Dosa Corner your home town, base-line Dosa will become a distant memory. Long dormant expectations will flower. And new light will enter your world.

Dosa fundamentals are important of course. But at this place you forget your preconceptions. Here the Rava Dosa redefines. First it’s a long, long way from smooth. It’s finely spun as a golden doily latticework. Into which is suspended a wild bunch of sweet, flash fried green curry leaves, whole coarse black pepper, and rough subcontinent spices. It sits there with just enough ghee for that totally fulfilling mouth-feel we all know and love. Mouth feel. Enough said. And this is just the beginning.

The Dosa Corner product resides in a traditional metal thali tray of 3 home-made chutneys and sambhar. Now I could spend considerable time talking about chutney and sambhar. But then this review would be accused of spoon-feeding its readers. Many a thesis (or late night beer-soaked discussion) has been written about chutney and sambhar. And if I was one of those very unlucky students (or other souls) stuck and mind-blocked in the middle of my chutney/sambhar thesis. And I came upon the Phnom Penh Dosa Corner. Many of my early chutney/sambhar conclusions would need to be reexamined. And at best my thesis advisor would (correctly) order a re-write. At worst he/she would recommend a change of focus. Maybe something more business oriented. But in this case, my recommendation is to stay the dosa/chutney/sambhar course.

Furthermore, when it comes to Dosa, I believe in living dangerously. Therefore I will say no more. Hold my peace. And leave it to your personal voyage of discovery. Suffice it to say that if these Dosa speak to you, their chutney/sambhar will have you gently whispering “you complete me.”

So for Phnom Penh and the Dosa Corner, don’t believe a word I say. Dig deep for the 2.5 bucks. Take the high road down to Sihanouk Blvd. Just past the National Monument. And discover new meaning for great snack food.

And one more thing. There are service smiles; kitchen efficiency; and that precipitous climb up those metal stairs will offer you a really clean washroom for your Dosa’ed up fingers as they enter recovery from the experience.