Category: Food

  • Mini food-sammelan at Out of the Blue, Powai

    Few weeks back, I joined a bunch of interesting people for an extremely engaging and mazedaar discussion on food. The discussion was accompanied by a lovely dinner served at Out of the Blue, Powai. Before I start I would like to thank Reema (my afternoon post-lunch-food-discussion-buddy on Twitter) who made sure Shirin sent me an invite for the meet. Also thanks to Kunal and Shirin for organizing this.

    Out of the Blue is amongst one of my most frequently visited places in Mumbai, and the visits have increased since they have opened closer to home at Powai. I have visited the Bandra one many times quite memorably after losing a drinking bet in Bandra; once with a pretty girl, once with a dumb girl (I think both of them were the same, maybe); with friends and with family. The visits to Powai have been mostly with my colleagues. But this time I got a chance to meetup with few foodies at a food bloggers meet organized by Burrp.

     From right: A retired chef, a baker, and a big bhookad

    The bloggers included:

    • Shirin, works with Burrp, eats and writes for a living, what an awesome life!!!
    • CaramelWings, a commercial pilot, looks-Punjabi-is-Marathi kind of rare girl, loves KRK, makes lovely brownies which she doesn’t share with everyone and writes about food at Caramel Wings.
    • Krytie Saxena, ex-Marriott Chef currently working for a production house, and reinstated my belief in Anthony Bourdain’s Kitchen Confidential. She writes at Foodietryingstein.
    • Reema , is a Bong-Mumbaikar who is married to a Tam and is a converted vegetarian. She ensures that I feel hungry post-lunch by posting tweets about Gulabjamuns and Jalebis. She writes at Sumthinz Cooking
    • Adarsh, works with Zapak, used to work with Zomato, and possibly created that chik-chik feature (shake for recommendations feature) on their app. He has promised to take me for an Andhra meal. He reviews restaurants at The Big Bhookad.
    • TheBlackSakura, works with Zapak again, loves baking, knows a lot about seafood, is quite fit for a big-time foodie, and blogs at Thoughts on a Plate.
    • BellyfirstTweet is a Capoeira dancer and a well-traveled photographer. I am sure Bhagyashree (of Maine Pyaar Kiya) hates her as she ate off a Pigeon once. She writes at Belly First. And her photographs are brilliant.
    • Kunal, works with Out of the Blue and leads their marketing efforts. I need to ensure that he too starts blogging.

    We started with Chicken and Ham Fondue and my favorite dish at Out of the Blue, Desi Fondue. More than the striking similarity with my name, I like it because it gives me a feel of a creamy Dal Makhni, but with a lighter seasoning and a decent helping of cheese. When I asked Chef Juliano (Exec Chef, Out of the Blue) about its origins, he replied that it was an accidental innovation, with its recipe being a closely guarded secret. To be honest I have tried something similar myself at home and it hasn’t turned out to be half as good as the Desi Fondue at Out of the Blue. That’s one reason I will keep coming back to this place.

    During this period we had a lengthy round of introduction with topics switching between humble origins of the Fondue, street food in Indore, how to check freshness of fish, abuses and awws for the Britannia uncle, great old-time restaurants in Mumbai losing their charm, cupcakes, traveling to China, Brazilian martial arts, how to clean and cook a pigeon, roadtrips in Punjab and many more.

    Switching back to food, for the main course I ordered a Grilled Rawas which was served with Lemon Butter sauce. I loved the dish for its simplicity. The fillet was grilled with a simple parsley-dominated marinate which as the Chef described allowed the one to enjoy the natural flavors of fish. I like my fish to be simple and not over-influenced by masalas, and I got exactly what I wanted. I tasted lemon butter sauce for the first time that day, and I think it will go as well with Aloo Parathas as it went with the fish. Contrary to what I had assumed the lemon butter sauce requires much more effort than simply mixing the core ingredients. Chef uses two different utensils (ceramic and steel), melts the butter in steel, shifts it to ceramic and mixes fresh lime juice (as citrus doesn’t go well with metal). Talking to a Chef always throws up so many interesting insights, these guys do put in a lot of effort in every dish!

    On the other plates I noticed Grilled Basa served with Caper sauce, Lamb Shanks which looked really bulky but equally yummy (and got Salonee extremely excited)  and a four meat sizzler. Somehow I didn’t want to complicate the simple flavors of my fish that day, and I didn’t play around a lot with other items.

    All dishes were accompanied by a Caesar salad which gave an extremely fresh feeling in the mouth, lettuce and cherry tomatoes were topped with a creamy dressing and just the right amount of croutons.

    After this I had to run out for a late night office meeting and I missed out on the fun everyone had at the dessert counter. It was an evening where I realized that there is no better appetizer than talking about food itself and nothing better than meeting people who think and eat like you.

    Featured image by Salonee

    Disclosure: Restaurant’s Public Relations agency covered all the expenses associated with the food tastings mentioned above. For more details refer my disclosure page.

  • Discovering the passion for macaroons

    In purely structural aspects Macaroons are reminiscent of cream filled biscuits one used to have as kids. It was fun to lick the cream off and then munch on the biscuits. Going by appearances one can also relate them to NanKhatais. But the first bite of it and one knows that Macaroons are way different from those childhood recollections. Those hard crumbly exteriors of Nankhatai have given way to the delicate texture of these baked confectioneries which are enhanced with appealing fillings.

    The Passion Fruit Macaroon is the Saffron crusted one

    (more…)

  • A Day in the Life of an Indori Jalebi

    Indore is my kind of place: vibrant, extrovert, loud, confused about its future, and yet rooted to memories it has grown with. Despite being known across India for its food, the place is rarely explored except for people from Central and Western India. One can claim to have had its namkeens and sweets, but it’s a different thing to be there and be part of the Indori culture, so heavily dominated by its gastronomical aspects.

    I have traveled to Indore on numerous occasions, as a doting nephew to two loving aunts, as a caring brother and as a loving friend, and as a traveler exploring Indori food.  And on every occasion I have returned gratified although with an upset stomach due to excessive eating. It is difficult to go through the details of Indori food in length of a post, so I thought of having a companion whom I have met on every trip to Indore, and who could help us navigate the way Indore lives and eats (synonymous terms at Indore), the Jalebi.

    Jalebis are crispy saffron-colored sweets popular across India. They came to India through Iran, although India had its own version too, the Imarti. Jalebis are prepared from refined flour batter, fried in Ghee or Oil and dipped in sugar syrup. Imartis on the other hand are prepared from Urad Dal batter. There are other versions of Jalebi too like the Mawa Jalebi which is popular in Madhya Pradesh or the Chenna Jalebi popular in Orissa, both of them tasting a bit like Gulabjamuns and equally appealing.

    Jalebi at its core symbolizes everything about Indore’s culture and people. It lives the way an Indori does, in a bright and a colorful manner, sometimes arrogantly crispy on the exterior, but with a soft and gooey heart. It is an amalgamation of everything Indori, and is surely the most interesting person to know in town, as it can lead one to not only a plethora of culinary introductions, but also give one a snapshot of Indori life. It is an important component of the Indori food construct, it is not the superstar of Indori cuisine, but it helps us navigate through its delicacies as it is popular, pervasive, and present across all the meals.

    Every morning Indore wakes up to the smell of Jalebis served with Poha. Poha is snack prepared using water-soaked flattened rice and few basic spices, garnished with the famous Indori Sev and Jeeravan (a masala similar to Chat Masala, without the Amchur component). At Indore, the Poha is always fresh and soft as it is prepared and kept over a steamer. The soft feel of the Poha gives way to the crunchiness of Jalebi, with the spicy clove flavored Sev mingling with its hot and syrupy sweetness. A crunchy and refreshing start to the day, topped with a cup of hot, milky and sweet tea.

    A Jalebi can take two distinct flavors based on its thickness. The ones like the popular Chandni Chowk Dariba Jalebis are thickish, with a mushy-juicy center, crisp exterior and much more seeped syrup. They leave a more long lasting flavor as one tends to nibble on them for a relatively longer time. The others are the thin more crispy ones, like the ones served at Haldirams or at Indore with Poha in mornings, not so sweet, and very difficult to eat once cold. Most of the Jalebis lie on this spectrum of thickness, with the ones on the extremes tasting the best.

    Back to Indore and its lazy afternoons. Post the lunch and a nice siesta Indoris are ready for a dose of Kachoris (both stuffed with dal and with potatoes), Samosas, and Batla Patties (A Pea filled snack, with a covering of Potato). What I have noticed that the Jalebis served in evening are thicker and softer, probably because it is served with crisp evening snacks. Along with the snacks, sometimes a plate of thick dahi or a glass of lassi (the famous one at Ghamandi Lassi) is combined with Jalebi to create a tempting Khatta-Meetha combination, driving Indoris to work and have engaging conversation throughout the evening.

    Further in the evening the old city area in Indore Sarafa-a jewelry market turns into a salivating marketplace of delicacies. Here one would find Jalebi’s elder brother- the Jaleba. Served only in sizes of ½ Kg and 1Kg Jalebas are the perfect for families and friends to share and enjoy. And it is the perfect way to end a snacky evening tour of Dahi Wadas, Kachoris, Garadus (Yam deep fried and tossed with chutneys, like Delhi’s aloo chat), Bhutte ka kis (grated corn cooked somewhat prepared like Poha) and Shikanji (a fusion of rabdi, lassi, falooda) one can have at Sarafa. And there are few dishes like the Jhannat Kachori (Kachori filled with red chilies) which certainly can’t do without the pairing of Jalebis.

    Even when the markets close and it is late at night Indore is still awake and craving for a glass of hot sweet milk garnished with Chironjis. At the bus stand or at Rau one can grab a glass of milk with a healthy layer of malai and gulp it down with a Jalebi, probably cold and prepared sometime in evening, but becomes more than edible with the hot milk.

    After a hectic day of work and eating one has to just wait for a few hours, it will be morning again and Jalebi will be back with Poha.

    Indore would go back to be same again: vibrant, extrovert, loud, confused about its future, and yet rooted to delicious jalebi-filled memories it has grown with.

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    Which is your favorite city for eating out? Any city which beats Indore?

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  • Return to Korba

    Over the past 2-3 years I have travelled across various parts of the country. Most of these trips were planned and executed around a friend’s wedding, and given I have had so many friends getting married in the recent past, and at locations such as Indore, Dhanbad, Raipur, Kerala, Rajasthan, Interiors of Maharashtra, and Delhi, these trips have resulted in experiences worth mentioning. On some trips the destination overpowered the entire wedding experience, and at some the wedding was an event to remember. Needless to mention I have also returned gastronomically satisfied from most of these trips, learning a lot about the diversity across Indian food preparations, wedding delicacies and food on the road, rail, air and even water.

    But out of all the trips the one which I made this weekend holds a special place, simply because of the people and place involved. And yes as always slightly because of my flirtations with food on the trip.

    I was going back to Korba after about 9 years, a period in which I have moved away significantly from what I was at Korba. A relatively simple person who was mostly immersed in books, gully cricket, and mostly lost in his own thoughts went on to talk, travel, eat, make friends, and talk a lot. I became more expressive and confident, adapted new habits – both good and bad, met a lot of people from different backgrounds, slowly started spending more money and became more experimental about life in general.

    It is interesting to note how roles change once we are back in Korba, whatever we have done in the past so many years, when my school friends get together, we behave as we behaved for all those 14 years in school. Surprisingly, they are the only ones who know how to make me sit quiet. Very rare! And for us everyone is still the same, no one is a Doctor, MBA, Engineer, CA, or a businessman; everyone is just the same old DPS Korba student they were, and I am still the Pattu they met in 2002.

    Korba has changed, the township hasn’t. The city seems well maintained with brilliant roads, shining shopping complexes and even a flyover! Although all the forests around the city have disappeared and all I saw on the road from Churri towards Korba and beyond were just power plants.

    The township remains the same, all our addas are still there as we left them. But I heard that the kids are gone (after 6th most of them are packed away to a IIT/Medical coaching location), people hardly come out, there are no fights in club for badminton courts or on Mansarovar to play cricket, and those community gatherings and activities which gave the township its life have become rare.

     

    Random pic about Korba

    Oh, by the way I also tasted the famous Chhattisgarhi Daal Wada with the spicy brick red chutney (a cross between a schezwan sauce and a pickle masala), my favorite Indian Coffee House Cutlets –potato and beetroot stuffed and shallow fried tikkis (although I tasted them in Nagpur as I knew I won’t have time in Korba), 4 different dosas (one outside the CST subway, value for money Butter Sada; second from Nagpur Coffee House, now Rs. 40 as compared to Rs. 14 back in the days of school; third at a friend’s home at Bilaspur, simple homemade dosas served with a spicy peanut and dal chutney; fourth on the return journey at Bhusaval junction, a regular dosa with a Jeervan like spice sprinkled on top, hot and fresh), and some good food at the wedding. But for me the cutlets stood out, and to benchmark them I even had the railway cutlets (https://beingdesh.com/2010/04/the-story-of-indian-railway-cutlet/), but I would say the Coffee House ones win, again because of the memories attached to it. On the healthier side we munched onto tonnes of Oranges and Sandwiches parceled in Raipur. The craving for sweets was satisfied through Spongy Rasgullas, Flavored Dry Fruit Bites (a sweet which according to me is the true competition to my other favorite, Mysore Pak), and Santara Barfi (a petha style sweet, flavored with orange juice).

    As always I have deviated from the core discussion around Korba to food, but then things have been this way since back I was child, food has always been a key component of my discussion, at Korba, or after that.

    In hindsight moving out of Korba was probably good for me, as I understood life and India in a better way and become truly Desi. But still Pattu remains a part of me, and I hope it continues to be.

  • 11 memories of 2011

    1. Watching Sachin at Bangalore scoring 100 in a World Cup match in Feb. If I would I have jumped from the stands at that very moment, it would have been a great death. And also at the end of it all we won the cup, the cup which mattered the most on April 2nd.
    2. Sitting comfortably on a slowly moving houseboat in Kerala backwaters. Amazing trip to Kerala followed by loss of my costliest cellphone ever and a wonderful wedding of a wonderful friend.
    3. Silence of the noise party at Palolim Goa, and the story of why it never happened. The most amazing of trips with my bestest friends…
    4. Losing a dear friend. Yesterday night as we drove past Lonavla, Naresh was the only person I could think of. Sachin’s birthday, the online world, DAIICT bakar and watching Katrina Kaif songs will never be the same again.
    5. Sitting on Sam dunes and watching the sun set. Nothing else, just so so peaceful and nice.
    6. Gaining weight, gaining a lot of weight, losing a LOT of weight and then putting some back again. The year when I was struck by Jaundice which led to a month of salary lesser than my maid and no holidays leading to no Ladakh for another year.
    7. Dancing at weddings. Too many weddings this year, although I did plan it well enough with some tours. I guess I danced pretty madly at Katti and Dhari’s wedding, Ankit and Apeksha was relatively sober.
    8. Meeting pretty girls randomly. A Brazilian Chef, few Danish linguistic students, an international affairs student interested in mahabharat, a  playwright, a lawyer with an amazing knowledge of tennis and cricket, a journalist who could have better been a food critic, a marketeer with love for wines and cheese and a few others. But as expected this just resulted in more stories getting added to my database. Swear.
    9. Consolidating the REAL friend-list. Hardly any additions to the new friends category, people who were close kept coming closer. Few who were distanced kept going far away. Very few recalls from the past and accidental meetups with old buddies.
    10. Idlis, dosas, upmas and vada. South Indian was the cuisine of the year, if my countless visits to Matunga’s Madras Cafe with Harsh and other friends is anything to go by. The Hyderabad Chutneys Sambhar was one of the best things I had during the year. Also idlis and dosas gave me company during the most food deprived time of my life, Jaundice.
    11. Sutts and the amazing bakar around it. The chai-sutta breaks at office led to really engaging conversations covering all aspects of life with the office gang (I was a pretty active passive smoker this year). Just that the participants kept going down every month.

    Featured image by Harsh Mehta

  • किस्सा कचोरी का…

    रविवार का था वह एक आम सा दिन,
    दूरदर्शन पर चल रहा था चंद्रकांता, कैसे रहते लोग कड़क सी चाय के बिन.
    चाय के साथ था कुछ खस्ता, रस्क, और नमकीन,
    पर जब घर आई कचोरी और जलेबी, तब खिस्की ज़बान तले ज़मीन.

    समोसा, आलू बोंडा और मंगोड़े भी देते है टक्कर,
    पर कौन रह सकता है कचोरी के स्वाद से बचकर.

    कचोरी कई बार अपना रूप बदलती,
    राजस्थान मैं पूरी तो गुजरात मैं लड्डू बनती.
    रूप के संग इसका ह्रदय भी बदलता
    कभी मूंग कभी आलू कभी प्याज और कभी मटर से इसका दिल है धड़कता.

    दिल्ली मैं चाट की शोभा बढाती राजकचोरी,
    या दही सौंठ के अभिषेक से बनी दही कचोरी
    उत्तर प्रदेश मैं आलू रस्सा संग रस रचाए
    कचोरी हर रंग रूप मैं हमें है भाये.

    इंदौर मैं सराफे का वजन,
    या कोटा-जयपुर मैं इसका प्याज से लगन
    गंगा मैय्या किनारे मोहन पूरी वाला,
    कचोरिया ऐसी जुग जुग जिए बनाने वाला.

    मेरा तो है बस यही अंतिम विचार,
    कचोरी के है चार यार
    चटनी, सौंठ, दही और तलने वाले का प्यार.

    -अभिषेक ‘देसी’ देशपांडे

  • Is it the end of the Chai-Biscuit era?

    Today I received an article from a friend of mine, Where did conversation go? No where. It talks about the “about-to-die” habit of having conversations. It also debates whether forms of new media have eclipsed the intimacy of having a one-on-one, or sharing a happy moment together.

    So is it the end of the Chai-Biscuit era? Chai represents much more than to us than a mere beverage, it is a conversation starter, our true friend during a conversation and the tastiest dip for a biscuit. From the addas which are still commonplace in Bengal, to housewives sipping that post-siesta tea, from office tea breaks to evening tea with families, chai has shaped the way Indians converse and share thoughts for a long time.

    So what happened now? When did walking to someone’s home without telling them in advance become a crime, when did talking about things personal and private online become a habit, when did the happiness of connecting with a few and bonding with them transform into the ever increasing desire to have more Facebook friends and Twitter followers, when did the keeping things to oneself become more than a one-off thing, when did our life become private in front of our parents and elders, when was the real smile overshadowed by the fake smileys, when did chatting and messaging steal the look of the face and tinkle of those eyes, and when did we start getting detached from the world, lose our sense of being together to being more individualistic?

    So is it the beginning of a new era, the Coffee-Cookie era? Coffee shops have replaced the meetups at home, 5 Rs. Parle-G has been replaced by 40 Rs. a piece Cookieman cookie, but more than that both of them represent a transition. A transition in habits, triggered by technology, economy and the society as such. It is not bad, its a transition, although its fun to live in nostalgia, these are changes which will shape the future. It is useless to trigger the age old debate of tradition vs. modernity, and it would be ruthless to declare a winner.

    In my world, Coffee exists with Chai, with Parle-G in one pocket, and a Cookie in another.

  • टमाटर की व्यथा: Ketchup बनू या कटरीना का Body Wash

    गुमसुम गुमसुम…
    लाल लाल, नरम नरम,
    इस टमाटर मैं है बड़ा दम.

    जब टमाटर ketchup बन जाता,
    हर टेबल की यह शोभा बढाता.

    पकोड़े हो या पिज़्ज़ा, समोसा हो या आमलेट,
    टमाटर है कुदरत की एक भेंट.

    पर जब इंसान को हक है अपना जीवन जीने का,
    तो क्या टमाटर को हक नहीं अपनी राह चुनने का?

    किस्मत मैं था उसके की ketchup बन जाऊ,
    बच्चो बड़ो सबके दिल मैं समाऊ.

    पर उसे क्या पता था की वोह बन सकता है body wash कटरीना का,
    उस कोमल बदन पर छीटा गुलाब का.

    शीला की जवानी, टमाटर की रवानी,
    टमाटर लिखे प्यार की एक नयी कहानी.

    सलमान, रणबीर है किस खेत की मूली,
    जब खुद टमाटर खेले लाल रंग की होली.

    कटरीना भी हुई दीवानी,
    टमाटर की थी यही अनोखी कहानी.

    – अभिषेक देशपांडे ‘देसी’

    Refer:

    Ek Junoon- http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=KSsSM2IR2LY

    Inspirations: Rosesh Sarabhai

  • Rattu ka Dabba

    He could feel a few giggles right behind his back, he knew it was gone. Again!

    As Rattu turned back and put his hand into his bag’s tiffin box pocket, he felt plastic and not the usual steel, infact before the lunch break this is all Rattu did with his tiffin, as he always scared to eat it before lunch. He kept feeling his steel lunch box between the classes, and almost every day, he would find someone else’s tiffin box in his bag. A yellow colored plastic one, from the one for him (as declared by all his friends). His dabba was always swapped with his supposedly the one’s dabba which usually resulted in uncountable hours of leg pulling (aahhh…who would touch those beastly legs, like Wodehouse said long time ago) and Rattu going mad throwing his Milton water bottle all over his friends.

    But Rattu really liked what Vaifav Ghar usually did with his tiffin, mostly an omlette sandwich, it was always munched during the history period. Ghar used to stand as our history teacher looked somewhere else, showed the omlette bread to everyone, used to take a bow towards our history teacher and start hogging. Everyone giggled as the teacher talked about 3 points for 3 marks, 6 points for 6 marks and so on.

    Lunch break was always a nice time, there were different kinds of people, firstly the looteras. Loot lo iska dabba they said, and started running behind the ones with their dabbas intact. There was always a gang for whom lunch breaks meant playing leg cricket, it had been going on from very junior sections till almost Class 12th.

    As everyone did this Rattu with his group of friends usually used to enjoy our dabbas, saving them from the looteras on the open terrace. The paratha subjis, maggis, sandwiches, idlis, all of them being shared over general chit chat of cricket, entrances, studies, girls, new possible couples, boring classes, good classes, the smell from chemistry lab etc etc.

    Although there was always one weird thing about the lunch break, the girls were always quite. They used to finish off their dabbas, quietly, nicely sharing the stuff among themselves and then go back to the class mostly. Very peaceful. And unlike the boys they never had yellow oil stains on their uniforms.

    Talking of stains almost every bag had a very oily patch in the area where lunch box was kept. Speaks volumes about our Parathas, Subjis and Achaars.

    And then there was the case of Dabba not brought, which was then given to Dutta Bhaiya on the school gate later by the parents, and delivered in between a classroom by Dashrath Bhaiya.

    Rattu’s school never had a canteen once which was closed after cockroaches were found instead of aloo inside samosa.

    Post lunch break was the time for a nap, a slight nap. It was a deadly period to take for a teacher I assume. Much more challenging than anything to keep students awake at that time. Somehow Rattu never fell asleep in school, never ever, even after a nice lunch break. School was always so much fun.

    And so were the Dabbas.

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    Do you have any memories associated with school lunch box?

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  • Positive thoughts?

    Life has been a bit off colour lately, as if what happened last month wasn’t enough here I am at home, for the past two weeks, eating boiled food and fruits and sleeping like kumbhakaran throughout the day. In the past few days I have developed love for idlis and extreme hatred for daliya, spinach, hospital and medicines. In a lazy weak format, deprived of all the chutputa food and chutputy bakar in the world here is a man just lying in his room, and bored. And uff, this needle on my hand bugs me.

    Given I sleep so much I am having my fair share of dreams, and they have been mostly horrifying. From playing with my worst fears and flirting with my weirdest nightmares they have ensured that I don’t sleep that soundly. To fight with them, I go on kickstart my own train of thoughts, those lovely memories which have kept me happy over the past few years now.

    So everytime I wake up from a bad thought here is what I do, I close my eyes, take a deep breath and think of:

    Omlettes: Of the lovely ones I had in Goa, or on that Trihun trek (with a chai sipper, choc eater, and great driver), ones which are so videshi with minimal spices and loads of cheese, ones with all the masala tones of green chilies and kanda. World’s best anda bhurji at Andheri station, or that decent one which I used to have at SP mess to help me go through with the food, or the egg biryani be at Raj Palace, or be it at Paradise Hyderabad. And those lovely Gadar Andes I cooked along with Abhishek at Gurgaon with loads of Jeera.

    Indori Food: Well I have talked about it so many times, but aloo ki kachori at lal balti/GSITS, poha/jalebi anywhere, sawariya ki sabudana khichdi, namkeen (double laung), Sarafa ki galiyo main Jaleba, shikanji, vijay chaat house ki batla patties, joshiji ke dahi vade, bhutte ka kis, garadu, gurukripa main bhojan, aur ghar pe mangode aur daal baafle. Did I mention mawa baati, shikanji and ASPI? Indore mahaan hai.

    Lazy trips: With mostly nothing to do apart from changing CDs in car, pepping up the greatest driver in the world by offering him cans of Red Bull, eating dhaba food, enjoying the scenery, talking to other car-mates. Jannat.

    Dosa: I have never tasted Dosas better than Bangalore or Korba’s Indian Coffee House. Both of them stand out. Bangalore’s Vidhyarthi Bhavan being my favorite, enjoyed with Atishay Bhaiyas khilkhilati hasi and Ananda’s coffee gulping on the day when India beat Aussies at Perth post the monkeygate match. Or the World beater Benne Dosa or Paddu served at that small shop on the way to Basvangudi, or staple on treats (just 11 rs back then) of which I had 11 in Davangare once.

    Aloo Parathas: I fell in love with them in Shimla, they were like Sharmila Tagore of Aradhna, young, hot, shiny with all the makkhan on them, I was like Kaka eager to fall in Love and make the haseen galti of munching those daily morning before I started my day. For one and half month everything in Shimla bored us, Aloo Parathas were our only hope. I tasted the ones at Moolchand once, and for me the taste is still there on some part of my tounge.

    Naturals: More than ice cream Natural’s was a remedial place, I used to take hopeless friends there, enjoy the first cup listening to them (grunts which I mostly ignored) and the second talking crap to them (which I enjoyed). There was seldom the third one (with just one exception with whom chances of fourth came up) but I loved the place. 28 Rs. bought them a malai or a tender coconut and more than that peace of their mind. Lokhandwaala one with its shoftu couch was better.

    These were a few positive thoughts, I need more, help me. Maybe I think its just the overdose of spinach and lauki speaking here…

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    If down, how do you get back to thinking positively?

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