In the heart of Greater Manchester, a hidden gem beckons the taste buds of locals and curious visitors alike – the legendary 'Rice and Three' cafes. Nestled in the Northern Quarter, these unassuming eateries offer a uniquely Mancunian twist to south Asian cuisine.
In the 1980s, the concept of 'Rice and Three' cafes made its debut in Greater Manchester, and one of the most renowned establishments is This and That in the Northern Quarter. Formerly owned by the Essa family, they decided to sell the business due to the commute from Bolton, opting to open two stores in their hometown instead, giving rise to 'Rice and Three'.
The menu featured options like chicken, kheema, lamb, chana, kidney beans, cauliflower, and paneer, with daily rotations. But there is a speciality of the this dish 'Rice and Three', it is not an ordinary dish which generally south Asians especially from India, Pakistan, Bangladesh or any other surrounding country prefer.
The interconnection of Asian rice dishes, acting as a cultural bridge that binds the roots of British Asians with their Asian heritage. It particularly resonates with the boomer generation, evoking nostalgia and recalling cherished childhood dishes.
The significance of soul-comforting food, offering a homely ambiance amid the hustle and bustle of the busy city, distinct from the fast-food landscape.
Emphasizing the fusion of Asian and British cultures, the narrative delves into the historical context of World War II migration, illustrating how this culinary tradition reflects the harmonious blending of diverse influences in contemporary British society.
Thali, meaning 'large plate' in Hindi, features an elaborate serving style with rice, naan, and assorted curries in small bowls. In contrast, the more straightforward 'Rice and Three' concept originated at This & That in Manchester's Northern Quarter in 1984.
The canteen catered to south Asian communities and locals unfamiliar with the cuisine. The unique culinary tradition evolved due to post-World War II industrial changes, drawing migrant workers to the textile warehouses.
Self-employment and communal support blossomed, leading to the rise of canteens prioritizing speed and convenience.
In the ever-evolving culinary landscape of Manchester, the 'Rice and Three' tradition remains a testament to the city's rich history, diverse communities, and the enduring appeal of a hearty, quick, and affordable meal. Visit a local café, a point at your favourites, and savour the unique fusion of Mancunian warmth and south Asian flavours.
The most famous locations that serve the dish 'Rice and Three' are located in the main hub of Manchester, are as follows:
This & That Cafe Home of Rice & Three Curries
This & That Restaurant, Soap Street, Manchester (Photo credit: This & That Cafe)
Since 1984, this family-run establishment stands as a beloved Indian curry house in the heart of Manchester. Nestled on Soap Street in the vibrant Northern Quarter, they offer an extensive selection of delectable curries. Every dish is crafted with care, using homemade recipes and fresh whole spices to ensure an authentic taste and a burst of maximum flavour. Discover the essence of our culinary tradition as we continue to be a cherished destination for those seeking an exceptional dining experience in Manchester's lively food scene.
Cafe Marhaba, Back Piccadilly
Nestled in the heart of the city on Back Piccadilly, Cafe Marhaba is an unassuming gem that might escape notice at first glance. This classic curry cafe, though discreet, is a favorite among those in the know, offering a delightful range of curry and rice. Don't miss out on the experience at this discreet city-centre spot.
Yadgar, in contrast to This and That, has steadfastly maintained its original charm, resisting the allure of renovation. As one of the Northern Quarter's longstanding establishments, this no-frills gem proudly offers a 'rice and three' experience on humble paper plates, all for a fiver. Amidst its unpretentious setting, Yadgar also boasts a menu featuring other acclaimed homemade dishes. You can find this timeless eatery at 71 Thomas Street, Manchester M4 1LQ, inviting patrons to savor a taste of tradition in the heart of the city.
The previous proprietors of This and That have brought the authentic rice and three experience to their hometown of Bolton, now showcased in their two restaurants. While it might be debated whether it's the true original, there's no doubt about its deliciousness. Plus, affordability is a highlight, with a plate of one meat, two veg, and rice priced at just £4.60. You can enjoy this culinary delight at either 90-82 Bradshawgate or 152 Deane Road, Bolton, experiencing the rich flavors that have become a hallmark of their establishments.
Check the joints, stay connected to your roots, try the popular dish, 'rice and three'!
A seated Jain enlightened teacherAshmolean Museum, University of Oxford
Ganesha from JavaAshmolean Museum, University of Oxford
A Chinese silk painting depicting the BuddhaAshmolean Museum, University of Oxford
ArdhanarishvaraAshmolean Museum, University of Oxford
Head of a grimacing yakshaAshmolean Museum, University of Oxford
NagaAshmolean Museum, University of Oxford
The Bimaran casketAshmolean Museum, University of Oxford
Hunia Chawla
A still from rehearsal
Them performing liveNajmuddin Saifuddin Qawwal Group
The cast of Marriage Material in key moments from the play, including Avita Jay, Kiran Landa, Omar Malik, Irfan Shamji and Anoushka Deshmukh
Sathnam Sanghera’s 'Marriage Material' adapted into bold new play on conformity
The play Marriage Material at the Lyric Hammersmith Theatre is Gurpreet Kaur Bhatti’s adaptation of Sathnam Sanghera’s novel of the same name, which first came out in 2013.
She is lucky to have Iqbal Khan direct Marriage Material. The play, a co-production with the Birmingham Rep, is set in the late 1960s. Mr and Mrs Bains (played by Jaz Singh Deol and Avita Jay) run a corner shop in Wolverhampton. Their younger daughter, Surinder (Anoushka Deshmukh), is 16, her sister Kamaljit (Kiran Landa) is just a bit older.
They have a neighbour, Patwant Dhanda (Irfan Shamji), who, as we shall soon see, is not a very pleasant man. In fact, he comes across just as racist as Enoch Powell, who represented Wolverhampton South West for the Tories from 1950 to 1974.
It will be recalled this was a time when Sikhs working on the buses were told they couldn’t wear a turban. That was a hard-fought battle that had to be won.
The Bains, meanwhile, simply want to get their girls married off.
Nothing new here, I thought.
What makes the tale different is that the plot twists and turns down the generations. Mr Dhanda, who has the makings of a paedophile, makes a pitch for one of the girls when Mr Bains dies early in the play. “A life with no man in the house is no life,” he informs the newly widowed Mrs Bains.
Mr Dhanda has a wife but she has returned to India so he considers himself to be a free man.
Surinder’s English teacher from school, Miss Flanagan (Celeste Dodwell), who is also head of the fifth form, tells Mrs Bains about her daughter: “I don’t want to embarrass you, but she is bright. Ridiculously bright.”
She adds: “Mrs Bains, I think it would be a pity if Surinder didn’t stay on at school.” The initial response from Mrs Bains is not encouraging: “Too much education makes people’s brains get mixed up, they don’t sleep at night…”
But she is finally persuaded that Surinder should be allowed to stay on for a while longer before being married off.
Mr Bains was very old school. When Surinder confides she would one day like to be “a somebody”, he is amused that “my daughter wants to be a somebody”.
“Like you,” she tells her father.
Mr Bains consoles his daughter: “We will find a somebody for you to marry.”
At the point of a possible marriage, however, Surinder is sweet-talked by chocolate salesman Jim Wilson (Tommy Belshaw) into running away with him. They share a love of literature, and he calls her “Sue Bains”. But the relationship does not end well.
Once she has left, Surinder is written off as “dead” by her family. The story that is circulated is that she was only 16 when she was killed in a car crash. That’s better than to let on that she ran off with a white man.
By the time she is reconciled with her sister towards the end of the play, a great deal has changed. Kamaljit married Tanvir Banga (Omar Malik), a young man who helped out in the Bains’ corner shop. When the two sisters meet again, Tanvir has also died. But he and Kamaljit had a son, Arjan Banga (Jaz Singh Deol doubles up for this role after the death of Mr Bains). He has come home after his father’s death to help his mother who is still running the family corner shop.
Meanwhile, Mr Dhanda’s business has prospered. He now has a son, Ranjit Dhanda (the role is taken by Omar Malik after Tanvir’s death), and he is nearly as unpleasant as his father.
Arjan has an English fiancée, Claire (Celeste Dodwell). In London, Arjan worked as a creative director. But after deciding to stay in Wolverhampton to help his mother, he decides he cannot marry Claire because she is white. In other words, Asians are not free of racism, either. Happily, at the end, the couple are reconciled.
As for Surinder, she parted company with Jim Wilson after realising he was all talk, depended on her for money and had failed to earn a penny from his literary pretensions. She had prospered, though, as a hotel owner and had been transformed in time into a well-groomed businesswoman. After being tracked down by Arjan, she decides to return to her roots in Wolverhampton and help Kamaljit run the family corner shop. Perhaps 50 years had passed during the passage of the play.
Being subjected to racism turned some Asians into racists themselves. The word goreh (white person) is repeatedly spat out with venom. Maybe it is worth remembering the play’s audience isn’t exclusively Asian – white folk are watching as well. And maybe some of the toilet humour ridiculing white people, which always makes me cringe, could be cut out.
In Sanghera’s novel, there is a quote from Enoch Powell’s speech in November 1968: “The West Indian or Asian does not, by being born in England, become an Englishman. In law he becomes a United Kingdom citizen by birth; in fact, he is a west Indian or an Asian still... he will by the very nature of things have lost one country without gaining another, lost one nationality without acquiring a new one. Time is running out against us and them. With the lapse of a generation or so we shall at last have succeeded – to the benefit of nobody – in reproducing ‘in England’s green and pleasant land’ the haunting tragedy of the US.”
In Marriage Material, where the acting is marvellous (apart from Mr Dhanda’s Indian mannerisms and accent being overdone) we do travel across a couple of generations.
There is a scene when Tanvir rejects Mr Dhanda’s vision of creating a little Punjab in Wolverhampton.
Mr Dhanda wants to take over the Bains’ corner shop and is putting pressure on Tanvir to sign the papers. He says: “In this country, money is the path to freedom.”
“Sign, please,” he instructs Tanvir. “We must make sure our children learn to behave nicely, according to our rules.”
He insists: “We maintain our identity so we can be ourselves.”
Tanvir disagrees: “We can be us here. With the goreh.”
Dhanda warns him: “Then we will be inviting chaos.”
Tanvir’s comment is telling: “You sound like Enoch.”
Kamaljit, who is expecting a baby with her husband Tanvir, says: “I would like my child to grow up knowing the history of the Gurus and to read the Granth Sahib. And to love their culture.”
Tanvir tells his wife: “I would like my child to go to the finest schools, to cheer for England in the World Cup and eat Yorkshire pudding on a Sunday.”
Kamaljit sets out a dream that has perhaps come to pass with many third and fourth generation British Asians: “Maybe our child can do both.” Much, much later, in a throwback to the past, we learn of Surinder’s O-level results: “Biology A, Chemistry A, English Language A, English Literature A, French A, History B, Latin A, Mathematics A, Physics A…”
Kamaljit tells her younger sister: “Never mind about the B.”
And that is quintessentially Asian. Their acting is outstanding.
Marriage Material is at the Lyric Hammersmith Theatre until June 21, and at the Birmingham Rep from June 25-July 5