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Learning to Love Aubergine
by Katia Grubisic
 UNTIL A RECENT RESTAURANT MEAL, I HAVE ALWAYS consistently abhorred eggplant: what an odd, vinyl-textured vegetable. I must have been a terrible child to feed: no to Brussels sprouts (obviously), to liver, to fruits with fuzz; no to cream soups in any shade of green, to pork chops; no, for a misguided while, to ice cream. It seemed too…icy, you know, and creamy.
Now that maturity has made me nutritionally responsible and even occasionally adventurous, I’ve begun to look forward to having my mind changed.
After an expedition to Khyber Pass Cuisine Afghane, you are looking at an eggplant convert. No trip to the Hindu Kush necessary; I only had to go as far as Montréal’s Plateau.
Of course, Khyber Pass does not advertise itself as a twelve-step program for auberginophobes. Tucked unobtrusively a bit further east of the innumerable Greek, Asian and fusion joints that flank the cobblestones of Duluth avenue, Khyber Pass is possibly Duluth’s most unusual apportez-votre-vin, not to mention one of the city’s sole purveyors of an Afghan cuisine experience. Although diners do not sit on the floor as guests would at a traditional Afghan meal, Khyber Pass has a welcoming, slightly hectic familial vibe: its brick walls are decorated with colourful rugs, Afghan clothing, mats and woolly bags (the patio-plastic backyard terrasse seems a bit cheap by comparison). Maps of Afghanistan hang on the walls, and the menu provides historical background while it hints at culinary temptation: lamb so tender it could bring the most devout vegetarian into the fold, so to speak, a minty dip that will make you want to marry into the family.
The restaurant’s namesake has been used as a military and trade route since the fourth century BC, and probably even earlier. The 48-km road has always been transitory: a passage for invaders and merchants, and, more recently, a route for trekking hippies. Yet the area is defined by more than swords, silk and backpacks, like Afghanistan’s food, notably—delicious, though it doesn’t score much time in the headlines. When the owner’s brother comes to take our order, we are quizzed on current events. “Who here has heard of Osama Bin Laden?” He’s not even Afghani, we protest. Ah-ha! We’ve passed the test; our smarts win us a pakol, an Afghan hat.
 The staff may edify you as to the country’s background, but the food at Khyber Pass speaks for itself. A meal typically begins with three dipping sauces—mint yogurt, a cilantro vinegar sauce, and a sweet red-pepper dip—and a plate of the Afghani version of chapati bread. Curious gluttons, we pass around dish after dish around the table. In part because of its long history as a trade route, Afghanistan has been influenced by several cultures: the lamb, thick bread, ubiquitous mint and the spices are redolent of Turkish, Greek and Indian cooking.
The servings are generous and varied: the house soup is red lentil, enhanced by a swish of paprika and thickened with cornmeal. Here comes pillowy, luscious ashak (small boiled dumplings stuffed with chopped leek and ground beef), then tender lamb Kabuli-palaw served with three kinds of rice, and a vegetarian platter with spinach, cauliflower, gumbo, turnip and— hmm, eggplant. Can I skip this part, go right to the rose-water-and-pistachio pudding?
Khyber Pass is possibly Duluth’s most unusual apportez-votre-vin, not to mention one of the city’s sole purveyors of an Afghan cuisine experience.
I give myself a stern talking-to. Remember the ice cream? And lo—the eggplant borani is even better than ice cream. My nightshade nemesis has been browned, then cooked in a spicy tomato and onion sauce, the flavours finely mingled. The borani is thin and delicate, like melting silk on my tongue.
The conversation rises and falls, my dinner companions dig into their pudding. Bottles of wine are drained, others opened. Someone’s boyfriend goes home with the hat, but that’s fine; I’ve got what I came for: a pleased paunch and a reminder that what we fear, including purple vegetables, often has the most power to surprise, seduce, transport.
I suspect that the Brussels sprouts, however, may be irremediable.
Khyber Pass Cuisine Afghane
506, av Duluth East, near Berri
(514) 844-7131
Cards: Visa, Interac
Reservations recommended, especially for groups
Open every day from 5 pm
Non-smoking patio open seasonally
Bring your own wine
Belly-stuffing dinner for two: approx $50 incl tax and tip
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They cancel a reservation for 15 people 2 days before the dinner!!! They gave my places to people they prefer!! Well i don't understand why they did that but it is really discusting!! Am not going to eat there anymore and i really advice the people to nerver make a reservation to the Khyber Pass Restaurant if their dinner is important!!
There are these cute little smiling faces to play with
