Bollywood dream sequence ... Camp Zurich

Do you believe in magic, in destiny … if not, then Switzerland is the place to come to.

Last afternoon we headed for the city square after settling into the lovely hotel Rigihof at Zurich. We soon realized that we were lost and got off the tram. I was very hungry by then.

We got down, definitely where we hadn’t planned to be, right at the front of Restaurante Pizzeria.

R P is where we had our first lunch at Switzerland at the banks of Lake Geneva at Montreux. Where we had discovered that pizzas can be made with fresh slices of Parmesan cheese, melted blobs of buffalo Mozarella, slices of pepperoni and fresh salad leaves and cherry tomatoes… very different from Dominos chicken tikka pizza back home. I was hoping to have it once before leaving. What were the chances of landing at another branch of the same restaurant in a city four hours away, when you are lost. – sorry no qn marks or brackets or exclamation mark on this keyboard –

Still don’t believe in magic – qn mark –

Well we figured out after lunch that everything was shut on Sundayat Zurich. Out of desperation we got onto a river cruise –included in the rail pass – got bored out of our heads and land landed at the old square at 8 pm.

We were trying to find our way to the Swiss restaurant with a long name written in an indecipherable scrawl by the lady in the Tourist Office in the station. And my map reading skills suck. The language barrier didn’t help.

That’s when we stumbled into a kiosk set up for the Zurich film festival beside the Café Odeon which Lenin used to frequent.

In the stall we bumped into a young lady called Shivani. Her family had moved in from India a few generations back. She comfortably switched from German to a smooth American accented English as she told us that the places we were heading to were tourist traps. She told us about a little lane with sit out pubs. She said that this where we should head for real Swiss food. She even walked us part of the way when we came back saying that we were lost. For all you know she was for real. Or was she …


And so we walked up the cobbled narrow paths, sandwiched by grand stone buildings, not a soul on the roads lit up by yellow lights, steep climbs by many awe inspiring Cathedrals, and we came into a street buzzing with little restaurants.

We sat at the first restaurant thanks to a Juhu beach like aggressive salesperson cum waiter. K wanted Roesti, the Swiss Sali or fried potatoes and she had it with the house specialty of sliced veal in a creamy sauce. The name of the dish was unpronounceable but Shivani had strongly recommended too. K loved it.

I had the only Swiss dish which I hadn’t tried so far – Cordon Bleau – which according to K is not pronounced as blue but blah.

Pork, stuffed with ham, stuffed with cheese, coated with bread crumbs, deep fried … Cordon Bleu should come with a health warning.

I didnt like it too much as I found it to be too dry and the cheese wasn’t very inspiring.

But sitting out on the tiny cobbled path, candle lights, a lane tucked away from tourists was just what we needed to close our last night at Switzerland.

Must thank Shivani for the wonderful time at Marketgrasse, the name of the street

And yes, by now I believe in magic, the reasons are obvious I guess

Shubho Bijoya to all

Somewhere, someplace there is a slab of white chocolate waiting for you... Camp Lucerne

Today was the first time in ages when we spent an entire day in one city in Switzerland. We felt we had enough of traipsing around the Swiss countryide in trains and decided to stay put in Lucerne for a day.

So we got chatting with the generous and friendly Simon at the front desk of Hotel Waldstatterhof (where I blog from) his gregarious and passionate colleague Ricky last evening.

We asked Ricky about the river cruise who saved us a lot of time by saying that we should only go if the sky is clear... which it wasn't today.

Kainaz then asked her about the Lindt ad in the travel book. Ricky pooh poohed it and went into elaborate description of the dark chocolate bar at Merkur, the chocolaterie, which is apparently '60 per cent hand made' and she strongly recommended the one with caramelised hazelnut which she keeps in her fridge at home. I could see the two women, K and Ricky, reach seventh heaven as Ricky described the richness of the dark chocolate.

We then asked Ricky about a cheese shop called Chas Barmettler which was featured in the guide book. Ricky assured as that it was the best place to buy cheese here as they have every cheese possible in Switzerlanfd andthat they vaccum pack it for you.

Armed with our unoffical Lucerne guide's advise K and I hit the streets of Lucerne today. As directed by Ricky we went onto the cobbled streets of old Lucerne. There was a nip in the air and we suddenly chanced upon a local market by the river bank. Fresh vegetables, fruits, chestnuts, cheese and a selection of meats ... a riot of colours which brightened up the grey morning.

A few more winding, aimless, relaxed lanes and we ended up at Chas Barmettler.

The shop was everything that Ricky promised. A wide selection of cheeses. And, unlike the local village fair shops where we couldn't communicate, there was a very friendly young girl who explained each and every cheese to us in English here. We tasted a few and I settled on the Gruyere from the French end of Switzerland, whose grainy texture I fell in love with in Montreux. And some Frommage. They vaccum packed it for us and I look forward to nibbling on them and dream of Switzerland back home in Bandra. They were also making quiches or cheese pies and we had them fresh from the oven for the first time.

A trip to a local mall where I had ham fried rice for lunch for the second day running. Call me reactionery if you must but I am Bong and I need my rice!

We langurously headed back to the hotel. Stopped at Merkur. Had the hazelnut dark chocolate slab recommended by Ricky who had also warned us that it would be expensive. We asked for a small piece. It was a bite of heaven and lived up to her billing. K was as ecstatic as a five year old on Christmas.

Starbucks coffee (tepid in mug, hot in takeaway) and gelattos by the magical Lucerne river and we headed back to the warmth of our hotel, the lovely Waldstatterhof.

Now here is where fate had more goodies for us. Yesterday I saw a slab of white chocolate with hazelnuts in a chocolaterie by the lake. I am not much of a dark chocolate man but was gamely accompanying K in her dark chocolate trails. But my heart was set on the white chocolate slab. We passed by the chocolaterie at around 7.30 PM. I thought it would be shut like other chocolate shops which shut by 6.30 PM.

But as Madhuri Dixit said in Yash Chopra's (Switzerland's biggest ambassador in India) film 'Dil to Pagal Hai', 'somewhere, someplace there is someone for everywhere'. And true enough. This was probably the only chocolaterie in Switzerland which is open up to 1030 PM and I happily munched on a small slab of white chocolate with hazelnuts.

And the fairytale doesn't end there. We did a couple of budget dinners at places like Mac D to get some sanity to our expenses. We had reconciled ourselves to the same tonight when we suddenly saw a pretty little pizzeria beside the chocolaterie facing the lake. And it is upon till one am and seems reasonable too.

So that's where we will head after another evening of spellcheck sans blogging.

Bern to eat ... Camp Switzerland

Have you ever been a long trip and missed home food.

Funnily enough while signs of daal makhani and butter chicken at Interlaken didn't turn me on, I really began to miss Chinese food from yesterday! Strange as it sounds, the call of Ajino moto got too much for me.

We headed back to Bern today from Lucerne in search of an Psychiatry Museum that K wanted to see. I was OK with that because I knew that there was a Chinese takeaway at Bern Station called Su Long. I had a ham fried there today which was really nice, salty like I like it and well flavoured. The ham reminded me of Jimmy's kitchen in Calcutta which is one of the few places to offer ham fried rice in India. And it had peas like my Mom used to put in fried rice. Went very well with the fried shrimps. Fried and breadcrumb coated shrimps are big here and you even get it at Mac D.

Smoked salmon's the same price as other meats in Switzerland so we have been maxing the salmon canapes, bagels and pizzas here as they cost a bomb in India.

Had a very well flavoured waffle with Movenpick Ice cream ön the streets of Bern on our way back to Lucerne. It was amazing to see the waffle retain its taste even as it went cold. Cold waffles taste so rubbery to eat in India. The waffles and ice cream brought fresh life into me as I was a bit weary after the million train rides. The healing power of food is amazing.

Came back to Lucerne to a hot Starbucks Coffee.

Our plan for tomorrow is to stay in the same city for once for a whole day.

Restaurant Bebbie ... a spot of sunshine, Camp Switzerland

It is amazing how good food and kind people can make the world seem lovely at dire times.

If Interlaken and Hotel Oberland were dark clouds in our magical Switzerland holiday, then Bebbie the charming restaurant outside the station, was the sliver lining.

We had dinner for three nights there. Loved the place with its bright and warm staff dressed in black and white leapord spotted pants. The 'boss' with an exaggerated welcome of 'take any table you want' and the two smiling boys with equally warm smiles including one of them who broke into 'shukriya' and sang 'koi kahen' from Dil Chahata Hain when he saw us made one feel warm in the chily night.

We had some love fondue, raclette (melted cheese with potatoes), rosti (which K liked) and roast pork.

Coming to this restaurant always brought a smile to our faces and we forgot the dreary hotel that we'd have to return to for a while.

It was symbolic that the 'boss' gave us free ice creams on our last day. I asked him if we could photograph him. He put his arm around K and said in an exaggerated American accent, 'now you have a real man beside you ... just joking''.

Just as he did with the earlier couple who wanted a photo with him.

Yes we do have fond memoriesof Bebbies whose baseline is 'happiness and fun'.

thanks for comments, feels great to read. sorry for typos, typing against a clock, more on www.farawaydiaries.blogspot.com

Bern apetit .... camp Bern

What are your favourite railway station food memories?

Mine would be taking the 205 bus from home with my Grandpa when I was around ten, reaching the ferry pier at Calcutta after 45 minutes, taking a launch, reaching Howrah station, going to the first floor balcony, quietly gazing at the Ganges, having a HP apple juice and a sada dosa at the station and then returning home with Dadu to my grandparents where we lived for a year.

And years later, waiting in front of the Nescafe stall at Churchgate station waiting to 'accidently' bump into a colleague from my office whom I married a year later.

A close third would be Bern station where we have run to for the last two days to escape from sleepy Interlaken.

Heady sweet maternal warm baking smells wafting around the station welcome you the moment you get off the train. The station is full of cafes with Hansel and Gretel's favourite pastries, chocolates, cookies, brownies and quiches and snack bars too.

I had the most amazing sugary chocolate and milk cookie with a cappuccino after getting off yesterday.

Today I learnt the virtues of patience and discipline. Didn't eat at the station after we got off in the afternoon. We started to walk the streets of this Unesco Heritage town instead

Wandered into a meat shop cum takeaway called Kauffman. We had little portions of a very nice penne carbonara, salmon canapes and something which they were a bit wary of serving me. The lady kept saying 'wild' and made little horns with her fingers by her ears. Figured out that it was antelopes in a brown sauce. A new addition to horse steak for us. And unlike brittle horse meat, antelope was quite tender and juicy and fatty.

Walked a bit more and suddenly felt like an ice cream. I looked left and saw that there was a cafe called Guant Gellateria. K and I proceeded to have a lovely chocolate and cheese flvaoured gelato. As Kainaz said, it represented the best of Switzerland in a waffle cone.

This was after we stumbled into a little market place where K had grapes with pits while I tasted a slice of cheese.

A couple of hours of winding walks later we landed up at Migros (the local mall, something like Hypercity in Mumbai) where we had cappuccinos and I had a quiche. I've been averaging a quiche a day at Switzerland. Had it for the first time at Geneva station and figured out that the quiches back home at Candies, Glorias and American Express were sad jokes. The quiches here are so cheesy that I can hear Jerry squeaking behind me when I take a bite.

So energised after a day of aimless walking we are back at the internet cafe we discovered yesterday. Making the day stretch before we head back to dreary Interlaken.

Fondue finally... Camp Interlaken

We are in the uninspiring town of Interlaken.

After Zermatt, Interlaken it is a bit like watching Mohabbatein after watching Silsila. Both films by Switzerland's biggest ambassador, Yash Chopra.

The town is full of Indians and you feel like you are walking in Dadar market. The town's a bit dull to say the least. And we will be here for three days!

But we did find fondue everywhere for a change and went to a most delightful little cafe called Bebbe (?) which was manned by a couple of very friends boys. One who would often break into a Hindi song.

The place smelt of good fondue and didn't disappoint us. There baseline was 'happiness and fun' and they definitely warmed our hearts. One of them very sweetly offered to teach us how to eat a fondue and was thrilled to know that we had had them back home.

How was the fondue? Richer than the ones back home. I was quite tired before dinner. Blogging away energetically after the fondue.

the non food Swiss tales continue at www.farawaydiaries.blogspot.com

No fondues ... yet - Switzerland live

Its been a rush of food memories during this wonderful trip of magical Switzerland. Thought that I must write about the few things which have touched my heart and stomach. Many will make it to full posts... hopefully, with pictures. So this is more like my diary, live for you.

Please excuse the typos. I just began to come to terms with the French keyboard at Montreux when I had to grapple with the German one at Zermatt. But that's Switzerland.

I am sitting in the lovely wooden, empty bar in the quaint and elegant Hotel Christiana at Zermatt as I write this. The clatter and chatter of the hotel guests is drifting in from the restaurants. But we are Indians, we have dinner at night and not in the evening.

So here are some of the highlights so far:

A lovely hot chocolate in a petite and poetic little cafe an hour back. The hot chocolate turned out to be a chocolate lollipop dissolved in milk. Lived up to the recommendation of Alexandra, the friendly Swede girl at the counter. She actually pushed this over the hot chocolate I initially ordered which was twice the price of what she later pointed me to. That's so typical of this fairyland. And, K had a lovely dark chocolate from the chocolatarie (pardon my French) in the shop below

The village fair we bumped into while hiking down to Zermatt after our day at the Matterhorn glacier. Walking down a road actually, where we had a dish called ratcine - slice of cheese, melted and put on your plate, a few chopped roasted potatoes, paprika, heaven

Warming my hands on a cup of hot cappuccino in the restaurant at the Matterhorn glacier after freezing in the glacier palace. And the best spaghetti bolognaise that I've ever had in my life.

The world's largest slice of apple pie at Grampies beside Hotel Post at Zermatt last night. Just what I needed in the icy cold night after a long walk and a million train changes. With a hot chocolate of course

The best Doner Kebabs in the world outside Visp station, Switzerland. Doner kebabs are the Turkish cousins of shwarmas! The meat in the one at Visp was far more succulent and well flavoured than any that we had at Istanbul last year. A nice spicy, Oriental break in the holiday amongst all the cheese and cold cuts of Europe

And talking of stations, how can I forget the delectably cheesy quiche, richer than the average Swiss banker, which we had in the departmental shop outside Geneva station?

And our last night at Montreux where we finally found Paradise Chalet while looking for Swiss food? Ham and cheese rosti which excited K no end as it reminded her of the Parsi sali per eendu with home made chips. The potato fries reminded me of my mom's alu bhaja. Sans the rice and moong daal of course. And the horse meat (!) steak which we had there. Our first. I found the coarse bite of the meat with the faint bitter after taste interesting. Add the excitement of new discoveries and it was quite unforgettable. The romance of horse steak didn't turn on K though and she preferred the rosti

We are yet to have a fondue though!

Princess Diaries ... Le Petite Palais, Montreux Live

Last night was grand banquet of our conference. It was in the regal Le Petite Palais of Montreux. Hardly looked very 'petite' to me.

Two levels down, a ballroom which opened to lovely gardens, seven hundred people seated in classy round tables. A setting for the Cinderalla's ball.

I was late and thought the place was full. Till a few friends from Delhi tried their jugar (fixing abilities) and a beaming maitre d got me a place.

The table I sat at turned out to be a six degrees of separation one.

• Someone from a design agency in the UK who was working on a project at Mumbai. Was mighty thrilled to know that I was from Mumbai
• Two Britishers who loved food on both my sides. I launched into a discourse on mutton kolhapuri, bombil fry and bata wada versus sweet, vegetarian, Gujarati food as one of them wanted to know if the food of Mumbai was different from what his North Indian friends at London had
• One turned out to be from the county of Kent in the UK. I was born in Canterbury, the capital of Kent! He told me about how the Kent county ground was the only one with an oak tree inside (!) the boundary

Dinner?

• White wine
• Three lovely fish pates, 'marrieage of two fish' as the card said
• Red wine
• Slices of roast beef from 'our mountains' as the menu described it
• Potato gnochhi (a sort of slab of cheese potato bake)
• 'Local vegetables' which people at the table traded with the slices of beef from the plate of a vegetarian European lady there
• Sorbet with raspberry cheesecake for dessert followed by coffee and petite fours.

As the dinner got over, the live instrumental jazz players moved away from the starry stage. A dance floor was made as another live band came up.

Many danced into the night.

Some of us younger ones headed back to our spouses.

Mumbai rocks ... Metrotwin Mumbai

Hey, this is something very close to my heart and a dream come true for me.

Metro twin http://mumbai.metrotwin.com/ is a BA effort to add colour to Mumbai for foreign travellers. I am a strong believer in the tourism potential of Mumbai and India.

A lot of things suck in terms of infrastructure but there's so much to see and do here, there is so much character. We just need to get people excited. We can give tons of popular destinations a run for their money. We can't fix the roads and loos and the Governmental apathy but we can definitely help build the romance of India. The rest will change I am sure.

So please introduce Metrotwin Mumbai to your friends overseas.

Let's spread the Mumbai story.

Jamming at Montreux

Hey, we are at Montreux. Been here since Monday.

The hotel has a 24 hr biz centre. But was too zonked at night. Then I realised that I wake up early because of the time difference so this made more sense. Montreux inspired Byron, Mary Shelly and Alexander Dumas to write. At least they didn't have to decipher maddening French keyboards. This is also the town where aapro Freddie did his last recording and where Deep Purple penned Smoke on the water when the local casino burnt down.

Shahil, Sudeshna, Spice and More, thanks for commenting. Can't answer all right now as I need to rush for the conference I have come for. But felt gread to hear from you all.

I presented my paper yesterday. Felt very cool as, at the risk of sounding pompous, but that never stopped me, ended up being an ambassador for India.

Breakfast so far has been croissants, Nutella and coffe. I love it. Kainaz is freaking out.

A quick food update. Had a most amazing pizza at Pizzeria by the lake. Very different from what we get in India. Thin slices of a very elegant, Ementhal cheese, not the melted goop of Dominos back home. NO tomato puree. Fresh rocquette leaves and cherry tomatoes. Most amazing pepperoni. Menu was in French and we struck lucky when Kainaz saw salami and ordered this. There was no salami though.

We had some very indifferent past the other night but I am not a fan of creamy tomato sauces. I like it white or green.

I tasted three amazing local cheeses at a counter in our market research (!) conference. One had a sharp salty taste to it, another had a fruity after taste, a nougat like crunch and yet wasn't sweet, the third had a lovely smoked taste to it without actually being sweet.

There apparently is a whole day chocolate and cheese train tour from here. Can you guys please write telling K that it is worth it.

Now where is the question mark. Ahh here it is...now where is the exclamation mark? allo allo elp

There is a nice Lebanese Turkish place called Paradise where we had a very creamy fried veal sausage and great lamb kebabs among other things. The 'kebabs' are more like the Turkish doner kebabs. Bits of shwarma meat.

Switching over to the my travel blog now http://www.farawaydiaries.com/ See you there and promise you lots of photos later.

Intermission

We are off to the land of cheese and chocolates in a short while. Had a nice Thai green curry at Thai Baan for dinner. And they gave me chillies with fish oil when I requested them. Lunch at Candies - pulao, black daal and tangdi kebabs prepared me for close to two weeks in the fondue land of Switzerland - a conference followed by holiday and a stop over at Dubai.

Am back on the 1st. Dunno how I'll stay without the comp for so long.

I'll be back as they say. Now gotta wrap up so that I don't miss the flight.

Eat well

Living on a prayer... Ramzan feast at Mohamed Ali Road

Avoid Mohamed Ali Road during Ramzan if chaos, crowds, sweat, heat, dust, noise and grime are not your cup of tea.

Human emotions, celebrations, culture, joy, liveliness, colours, food turn you on? Then Mohamed Ali Road is where you should head at night after the Ramzan fast is broken. Mohamed Ali Road is a part of old Mumbai below the J J Flyover. You will have to cab it over there as it is near impossible to park your own vehicle.

There is a lane there by a mosque straight out of the Arabian Nights where Mumbai gets together to celebrate the holy month of Ramzan. It is a Muslim festival but people across religions, Hindus, Sikhs, Christians, Parsis make a beeline in the evening to Md Ali Road. The road is transformed into a meat lover's fantasy. There are stalls selling chicken in every form, quails, offal, beef cooked in largely Indian, Mughlai fashion. A scene as Indian and Asian as it gets. it looks like a primitive bazar from the time of the Mughals.

The street is choc a block with people jostling with each other in search of food or even new shoes or clothes. The street is packed, reminiscent of the famous local trains of Mumbai. The lanes are at times claustrophobic and at times a source of festive delight. There is a strange order in the chaos as people move around with smiles on their faces despite being knocked around. I have been there quite a few times over the years and have never had my pocket picked!

I don't know about you but there is a child in me which likes celebrations and happy faces. I feel strangely energised and exfoliated in the madding crowds of festivals such as Durga Puja or of the Ramzan bazars. A world so removed from the air conditioned environs we live in. This is human spirit. Pure and primordial. And I love it. And the idealist in me loves the fact that people lose their religious identities in the crowd as they mix together in the medley of good cheer.

And of course I love food. The sheer array of food an display is like an unbelievable fantasy. The food is patchy. It could reach the sublime at times. And be very ordinary too. Keep in mind that this is street food and they are not bothered about repeat customers. The food is spicy, loaded with masala, oily, served on basic cutlery and demand cast iron stomachs.

But in case you are interested, Anthony Boudain once shot here and couldn't stop raving about the food.



I went there last evening with Feastguru's Chief Foodie, Kirti, and his family and friends.

We stopped first at a shop which had chicken on its menu. We had a fried, spicy, under cooked, 'tandoori' chicken. Very different from this subtle roasted chicken dish. Some fried chicken bits (huna) with a roaring masala and some nice brain curry. Kirti and co went into a narrow lane in search of beef. I felt claustrophobic there and stayed put. They soon came back and joined me at a counter in the opposite corner which had some lovely, though over spiced liver and kidney (gurda, kaleji) masalas. And a local burger called naan sandwich which had a potato and beef patty smashed in local bread. In between we had mutton khichda which was a porridge made with a mix of pulses and cereals. I found this to be a nice taste breaker. Kirti, found it be a waste of time, and rushed off to search for more carne.

We ended the evening at Suleman Mithaiwala over some lovely, sweet, nutty, malpuas ... giant circles of egg fried in lots of oil and sweetened.

Good friends, food lovers, joyous faces, loads of meat, heavy duty sweets. Life could not get any better.

Notes:

• Parking is a nightmare
• Carry your own tissues and hand cleanser
• Vegetarians would hardly find anything to eat as even the sweets have eggs in them
• Md Ali Street is open late into the night. We started at midnight and ended at 3 AM. The night was still young
• The six of us spent a total of about thousand Rs on the food

Deconstructing Penne... an afternoon with Chef Max

The last time I spoke to someone continuously for four hours, we got married. This time was slightly different.

I'd gone to interview Massimiliano Orlati for my friend Kirti of Feastguru. Orlati, or Chef Max as his known, began cooking in Northern Italy in 1975. Life took him to Southern Italy, Tunisia, Jamaica and Mauritius before he settled down in India seven years back. In India he has worked with Taj, Olive and now has taken over, Penne, a popular continental joint at Juhu in the suburbs of Mumbai.

I met him a couple of Saturdays back on a wet afternoon.

He started off by asking me about which 'newspaper' I belonged to. Feastguru and Finely Chopped didn't cut much ice with him as he muttered 'never heard of it'.

Finally Merryl, who organised the interview, arrived and established my bona fides.

And then we embarked on a journey of food. He told me about growing up in a farm where dinner was grown at home. Something which spoilt frozen food for life for him. And don't get him started on frozen fish. He used to go fishing with his grandfather from the age of two. He told me that Mumbai has the most amazing treasure trove of fish and that he was impatiently waiting for the sailors to go into the sea so that he could revamp the menu at Penne. His speciality is fish, rubbed with rock salt and grilled. The only way to eat fish according to him is to not interfere with it.

Chef Max was full of food stories ... from the spice trail origins of grilled fish of Constantinople to the Russian soldiers who lead to the creation of penne vodka in Milan and the harsh climes of Northern Italy and its robust food which gave his ninety six year old grandma a very strong heart.

He spoke in the endearing Italian lilt of movies such as Malena, Cinema Paradiso, Life is Beautiful and Bicycle Thief. With animated gestures which were difficult for the camera to capture.

He told me about how his life changed after he went to London and learnt ice carving. He made a fortune by doing ice carvings for Arabian parties in the seventies. Funds which allowed him to travel the world.

Chef Max had his concept of local cuisine being a function of the natural resources around and the local weather. Which is why he plans to have a more Mediterranean theme in Penne. He feels that this yogurt, garlic, olive oil based cuisine of warmer climes will fit more naturally in India than the rich and heavy food of the wintry North.

I can't wait for him to start his thing so that we can go there and see what he has in store for us.

I asked him about the influences of Indian food on him. This pulao, clam masala and butter chicken loving chef said that he recently experimented with some pesto sauce, cold cuts and a dosa. After all 'dosa is like pizza', he said.

I cheekily told him that someone had beaten him to it.

We'd gone to Holiday Inn, Goa, for our honeymoon in 2001. They had a omelet counter and a dosa counter at breakfast. I requested them to make me a dosa with sausage, ham and cheese!

As Bhagat Singh said when he read the works of Lenin when he was jailed, this was like one revolutionary meeting another (source: Amar Chitra Katha).

I looked at the watch and realised that four hours had passed since we began yapping. And one of the most wonderful conversations that I have had in ages came to a close.

Thanks Kirti for arranging this.

Here's the link to the write up at Feastguru

Serendipity ... posto murgi (chicken in poppy seeds)

There is a Bengali dish called posto chicken. Kainaz used to make it when we were newly wed and she used to download recipes from the net.

I didn't know the recipe but got this idea while making the marinade for posto ilish last night.

I won't be able to give you the exact proportions as I had a vague idea of where I wanted to go with it and briefed our maid and my sous chef, Banu, over the phone from work. Banu normally calls me up for instructions for what to cook.

Here's what I told her (translated to English from my broken Hindi)

• Fry green elaich (cardamom) in a bit of oil
• Add one finely chopped onion and fry
• Add half a finely chopped tomato, four split green chillies, curry leaves and fry
• Add 4 tablespoons of crushed posto (poppy seeds, khus khus) and stir
• Beat 100 g of ready made curd and add to this
• Add 4 chicken drumsticks
• Add half a teaspoon each of turmeric and black pepper powder and a table spoon of salt
• Cook, cool, put in fridge

It tasted really nice when I heated it for dinner. I made an interesting garnish of curry leaves, tomato bits and sliced raw ginger and this brought the dish alive.

Went well with the lovely rotis that Banu makes.

Note: I've started a mini food riot on blogger and facebook. Clarification, Bongs don't use curry leaves. It's the Bombay inlfuence on me. Coriander leaves would be more Bengali :)

Stop press

Call me old fashioned if you must but I belong to a generation to whom print is king. I doubt if I'll ever pick up an e book over a well dog eared book. And I did cartwheels when I saw my article come out in the Mumbai Mirror, and as S, who made it happen, points out, full page :)

This was a feature on Cappadoccia, Turkey, based on my blog posts in Faraway Diaries. I don't get to update this blog too frequenbtly. I don't travel as often as I eat. The Switzerland and Dubai trips coming up should give some fodder.

Here's the link to the actual article. I know it's largely on travel but there is a bit on food at the end. Keep this to yourself but the food part is from Istanbul but some inspired editing and a need to fill the page got it there.

In a way it is Finely Chopped which started it all as S contacted me after reading it. The result was piece on the food scene at Singapore.


Can't wait for the next one.

PS: Just to set the record straight 'I' didn't splurge. Museum was a gift from K. So there, I hope to get into her good books by blaming it on the media

Spa cooking

I was dead beat when I returned from work yesterday.

I took a Cetzine in the morning because of a sneezing bout. Was in a daze through the rest of the day. My driver was AWOL and I had to drive and got a back ache too. Went sweater shopping in between for next week's Switzerland trip. Ironically, felt like a broiled lobster, as I was in a dingy cab in a hot and dusty afternoon. A far cry from Jungfrau. Almost dozed off while driving back.

Felt pretty much like mustard seeds in an oil press when I returned home.

Then I made a marinade for posto ilish before I took a shower.

I felt my troubles ease away and the smile return to my face as I put the crushed posto (poppy), mustard, chilly, turmeric, salt in the curd and gave the mix a nice whip in the blender. It was almost as if I got a nice, relaxing massage along with all the masala.

Nothing like the world of food to unwind in.

Confession time ... grilled fish in peri peri sauce with sinful mashed potatoes

We got back from a lovely one year old's birthday party a while back.

I OD'd at the dessert counter. But there was lovely kulfi with faluda and an unending supply of jalebi fresh from the frying pan. With rabri. I gave in. Many times. And now have a sugar fix.

I feel that it is safe to stick to short posts, often on what I call 'lazy cooking' at this late hour.

So this is a story of how I demystified the humble mash potatoes.

Most of us have grown up on mashed potatoes. Either in its Western form with milk and butter or sometimes, with onions and green chillies, as we did in the East along with soggy, starchy rice. Alu sheddo bhat (boiled potato and rice), as it was called saw us through many a night when it was raining or when my mother was working late.

I've tried making mashed potatoes at home in the past with milk, butter and then gnashing it with a spoon or fork. It was nice but never had the creamy consistency of restaurant mash.

Then I tried something a few days back which worked wonderfully.

I boiled 4 potatoes and skinned them. Put them into a blender. Yes, that's the magic touch!!! Added a tablespoon of butter, a teaspoon of garlic paste, 1/3 cup of milk, a teaspoon of salt and a bit of crushed pepper and chilly flakes.

Gave it a nice whip in the blender. Voila, had the most incredibly creamy mashed potato ever.

We had this with some fish grilled in peri peri sauce.

Sounds fancy? We had some pomfret which was cut into pieces. Smeared these with a teaspoon of peri peri sauce in each side, salt, crushed pepper and a bit of thyme. Put it in the micro in the combi (grill + cooking) mode for ten minutes. Took it out, gently turned the fish over. Added a bit more peri peri sauce on the side facing upwards. Put it in combi for another ten minutes.

Net result?

A fancy dish which was healthy (grilled fish) and sinful (creamy mash) and can be cooked in your sleep.

Notes: How to make Peri Peri sauce

• Go to any food shop which stocks foreign goods
• Pick a bottle of Nando's Peri Peri Sauce. Rs 125, 4-5 servings
• If you are not into lazy cooking then this is an African sauce which is tangy (lemon juice), spicy (chilly bits) and seems to have some garlic in it

Six degrees ... Ramzan feast with Finely Choppers ... Sarvi, Nagpada

Warning: long post ahead with uncensored tales of flesh

There is a programme called Lonely Planet Six Degrees which we often follow on Discovery Travel & Living.

The basic premise is that an anchor lands in a country. Meets someone who introduces her to someone else who introduces her to someone else and you discover the place with her in the process. I think Asha Gill hosts it.

We had something similar on Finely Chopped last night. Let me lay down the train of events first.

• I met Kainaz in 2000
• She shifted jobs and met Dhruti and Kaushik
• Kainaz and I got married in 2001
• Dhruti and Kaushik got married more recently and we all become quite thick sicne then
• I started Finely Chopped in 2007
• Recently Rahul begun following Finely Chopped. He is a friend of Kaushik and Dhruti
• Then Soumik connected with me on Facebook. We rapped on food. He is a friend of Kaushik, Dhruti and Rahul. And a former food journalist who is now into films and had dinner for 7 consecutive days with one of Bollywood's biggest stars. They apparently had mutton and rice every two hours
• Then Irin commented on a post of mine on red wine sauce. Turns out that she is married to Rahul a friend of Kaushik, Dhruti and Soumik and a sister of Arindam who often chats with me on food from K L on Facebook. 'Irin' is one of the 150 names of the Goddess Durga and is not to be confused with 'Irene'
• Rahul, Irin, Soumik and I met for the first time last night along Kainaz.
• And it turned out that Rahul had written an ad film which Kainaz really likes
• This is the story of what followed
  

I was looking for cohorts to go to Mohammad Ali Road in old Bombay. Mohammad Ali Road has an alley which is packed with food stalls to break the Ramzan fast. It is a riot of colours and sweat ... a meat lover's fantasy with grilled chicken hanging from skewers, organ stews made with liver, kidney and goat trotters in big steel drums and quails fluttering in cages. There is a mood of festivity with bright lights, bright new clothes, teeming millions and a Mosque serenely looking at the revellers. You come to celebrate your faith. Or you come to celebrate food. And everyone feels happy about life.

Gives you the goose bumps? Mohamed Ali Road would be just up your street if you like new experiences, love to hit the street without qualms, and are aroused by the world of food. It is not for you if you approach life rationally.

The food is quite ordinary to start with after all as they don't have to bother about repeat visits. And you do get ground like good filter coffee thanks to the crowds.

Rahul suggested that we go to a restaurant closer to Byculla rather than hit Mohamed Ali Road given the pedestrian quality of the food and memory of a friend of his who got Hepatitis after eating the Mohammed Ali Road Stuff. 'Chicken heart' I thought but kept quiet as I hadn't met him before and his Facebook picture's a bit intimidating.

So the five of us landed opposite Nagpada Police Station close to Byculla. In front of a hole in the wall place, if there ever was one, called Sarvi. I climbed the stairs gingerly wondering what K would be thinking. The stairs opened on to an air conditioned section. Spartan, white washed, clean chairs ... and the heady aroma of beef. I knew we were home as the smell woke up memories from my college days of a humble Muslim kebab joint beside Jamuna Cinema in Calcutta.

Rahul suggested that we order Sheek kebabs. I really began to doubt this man. Most sheekhs in Mumbai tend to be rubbery and chewy. Does this guy really know his food? I held my silence and saw Irin and Soumik looking quite confident.

The waiter heard 'sheekh' and charged down the stairs and asked a kid to take the rest of our order.

He soon surfaced up the creaking stairs with a casserole. He opened the lid and the wafts of the most heavenly fragrance came out and put me in a trance. As my eyes slowly began to focus again I saw lovely, limp kebabs lying in the casserole. Little plump Mamas. I took one onto my plate and had a bite. A million senses erupted in joy as I had my first bite of the beef sheekh kebabs. Tender and softer than a chubby baby's cheeks. Fragrant. More delicately flavoured than the most intricate of Persian carpets. You could taste a slight sweetness, a muted saltiness and the odd its bitsy bite of green chilly. I think this is what the poet had in mind when he said 'Paradise Regained'. It was as if the kebab was doing a serene and poetic belly dance in my mouth. Ephemeral.

I didn't even think twice when Rahul suggested that we order more sheekh kebabs. This was a man i would trust with my kingdom. We ordered a total of six plates and I kept wolfing down these little work of arts with nice, soft tandoori roti.

We tried out tongue. They used the Hindi/ Urdu word for it zaban. I have never had fried tongue before. It was nice and scrunchy and came with a little, round potato which was fried on the outside. Surprisingly on the bone unlike Tongues served in Goan restaurants.

We saw some biryani in the next table. It looked to be the gravy, soggy variety which is anathema to a table of Bengalis (barring K). Talking of Kainaz, the other two tables had Parsi families. I guess that it was no surprise that this temple of non vegetarian food was full of Bengalis and Parsis.

We ordered a mutton pulao instead of the biriyani. This upset the waiter no end as he said that biriyani was ready while pulao has to be made. We were eventually able to convince him that 'making' dishes is what restaurants do and got him to get us some pulao.

The pulao was greasy, full of ajino moto, had thick rice and was avoidable.

So at Sarvi, close your eyes and order the beef sheekh kebabs and naans. I have it from 'the man'. 6 plates of kebabs, a few soft drink, paratha, pulao and 1 tongue came to Rs 560 (10 USD). And all our tummies are in good condition.

We later went down to the non air conditioned section downstairs where they make the kebabs before they put it in the casserole and send it. I tried to photograph it for you but was chased away by the owner.

We headed to a sweet shop opposite which made the special Ramzan sweets. Rahul, Irin and I were the sweet fans and settled for a malpua and rabri. These malpuas are a cholesterol dump of million eggs, deep fried in a gallon of oil. You normally eat it at Suleman Mithaiwala at Md Ali Road after dinner. The malpuas at this nameless shop flattered to deceive as the malpua was salty and the rabri didn't help sweeten things. In fact we had a couple of pot rabris which came in tiny earthen pots. Those were sweet, milky and refreshing.

The perfect end to a Finely Chopped evening for two creatives and an account management person from advertising, a man of films and a market researcher connected by six degrees of food.

Pile on the good Karma as you eat ... By The Way, Seva Sadan, Gamdevi

I found myself at Nandu Pai's studio beside Grant Road Station once again. We were working with his quiet and super efficient editor, Ajit, on the AV for our presentation.

Grant Road is one of those colourful places in South Mumbai which are slowly going out of the radar of a lot of us with offices in Mumbai moving to the suburbs.

But it is some locality! You have crowded, bursting at the seams lanes such as Kalbadevi, Mumbadevi, Gulalwadi which connect Victoria Terminus and Crawford Market to Grant Road. Each road is full of life and has a character of its own. One could be filled with imposing Muslim mosques and dry fruit stores. Another could have ornate Hindu temples followed by car spare parts shops. You can easily lose yourself in these lanes making up your own stories as you walk.

To think that Singapore peddles 'Little India' to tourists. Pshaw! When will we ever learn?

Grant Road is also known for its red light areas and its legendary dance bar, Topaz, shut down by a home minister who was busy closing dance bars while terrorists attacked Mumbai. Another institution, if one can call dance bars that, which could have been such a tourist attraction was closed. While Bangkok counts the dollars at Pat Pong.

Grant Road also offers a mad medley of food. You have Jaffer Bhai, with its rich and heavy Muslim Moghlai food. And then the tiny Irani Cafes which dot it. Irani's are related to Parsis and had migrated to India from Iran centuries back. Irani Cafes are small, dingy, no - nonsense economical places with a distinctive decor and famous dishes.

One such cafe is B Merwan's just beside Nandu's studio at Grant Road E. They had called for Mawa Cakes for us on the first day of the edit from B Merwan's. These Irani, milky cup cakes were warm and quite tasty.My colleague, Ips didn't like it too much though and she bakes great cakes herself. It has a slightly peculiar taste a bit like Chinese Moon cakes. I am OK with them but am definitely not crazy about these tiny cakes.

We felt like some good Parsi food for lunch. B Merwan's only offered us omelet pao (bun) and a variety of other Irani Cafe specialities such as bun maska (butter) and brun (a hard, baguette like bun) maska. I was looking for something for more substantial such as kheema (Irani styles mince curry) and pao.

I called a South Mumbai Bawa (Parsi gentleman) who is quite well informed on matters of food. He promptly directed me to By The Way just beside Gamdevi Police Station close to Grant Road.

I had never been here before and it was a pleasant discovery. It was the sort of place which you enter and know that you will come back to.

By The Way did serve Parsi food but it was everything that the legendary Irani Cafes weren't:

• Bright and airy
• Air conditioned
• Nice wooden furniture, elegant and different from the round tables and chairs peculiar to Irani Cafes
• It had a full Parsi menu and Goan dishes and sizzlers
• It was empty
• It was expensive
• The staff was very attentive and polite
• They don't mind if you have a leisurely meal and don't hurry you out

By The Way is run by a charity called Seva Sadan was founded in 1908 by two philanthropists, Shri Behramji Malabari and Divan Dayaram Gidumal to help destitute widows. A hundred years later it works for downtrodden women and girls. By The Way is a new restaurant in the front of an old building which has been very well maintained. They have a snack bar next door for local snack items. The money from the restaurant goes entirely to charity. So for once you can think about karma rather than bad cholesterol while eating.

The Parsi food was apparently cooked by elderly Parsi ladies. It tasted quite home like and simple and was served nice and hot.

We started with akuri on toast. Akuri is an Irani scrambled egg which is spicy, doused in masala with chopped condiments. The one at By The Way was quite authentic and close to what we had at my in law's place. Minus the chopped chillies which my pa in law loves. It had a nice smoked taste to it. Don't ask me why.

We followed this with a mutton cutlet with gravy. The cutlet, as Ips pointed out, didn't taste of mutton. That's because Parsi cutlets are an equal balance of miced meat, potatoes and an egg batter coating. The three come together in harmony without either taste dominating. The cutlets and the tomato gravy which came with it were a trifle salty. I would ascribe it to being cooked by the elderly ladies instead of seasoned chefs. Home cooking can get a bit temperamental. The only problem is that your expectations are high when you are paying a high price (Rs 175, 3 USD per plate).

We followed this with chicken dhansak (lentil gravy with meat served with brown caramelised rice and kebabs). The dhansak was quite domesticated too. Similar to what I get at my in laws or at Mama's. The colour of the daal was dark yellow like home cooked dhansak and not the dark brown daal which you get in Irani restaurants such as Biritannia or Jimmy Boy. The chicken was really tender. It was a leg piece, as promised. juicy as a ripe mango and could be broken easily with a fork. A real pleasure to eat. It was fairly addictive and we kept eating at it even after we knew we were full. At Rs 220 (4 USD), the price was similar to Britannia's and higher than Mocambo's.

We followed this with a laganu (wedding) custard. The first bite took a bit of getting used to as it had an essence. But then rapid spoon fulls cut the air as we couldn't have enough of it. The custard grew on you and this chilled, stiff pudding was just what one needed after the heavy lunch. Definitely one of the best laganu custards that I have had.



We followed this with a caramel custard which was irritatingly sweet and was disappointing after the laganu custard.

Someone ordered a sizzler just as were leaving. It smelt so good that we felt like a second lunch.

By the Way is expensive. The food largely left you with a good feeling of home cooked food. It's open from lunch till dinner. It's expensive but the money goes to charity. And it's a nice place to sit too. Truly a hidden treasure. A great recommendation.

Note:

• They have a simple and clean rest room
• You can buy little handicrafts there (envelopes, cards)
• They don't offer you beds which is sad as a good Parsi meal HAS to be followed by a snooze

Maroosh, Bandra on call again

I had earlier written about how Maroosh had stopped delivering at home regardless of the day of the week.

I called them after ages yesterday and they delivered without a fuss. Their number is 26005584.

I can't tell you how happy I was because I really love their hummus and their chicken shwarma. Ordered both last night. Couldn't finish all the hummus yesterday. Had a couple of cream crackers with hummus this morning. Stayed quite well in the fridge.