Tag: Travel

Kerala: Backwaters and Beyond

It was the first week of monsoons in Kerala. The distinctive muddy scent of first rain had faded and given way to an imagery of vivid greens all around, which had started dominating my tired senses. Already 20 days into my travel, I was exhausted and a bit disappointed. But I ended up jaunting across the beautiful backwaters of Kerala. I was a bit frugal, a bit naughty, and a bit too easy on time. But in the end I was refreshed and ready for what lay ahead.

I was hosted at Kochi by my friend from college. After an evening which involved engaging conversations on Krishnadevraya and Southern dynasties over a few beers and banana wafers, I packed my bags and accompanied him next morning on his sales field visit to Kottayam. I had tweaked my itinerary a bit, as I had a sudden urge to revisit the backwaters of Kumarakom and Alleppy.

We stopped on the way and stuffed ourselves with some lovely appam and stew. I told to myself for the n^th time, the vegetarian food in Kerala is so underrated.

Appam and Stew at some place between Kochi and Kottayam

My friend dropped me around 11 AM at the main square of Kottayam. The streets were busy, but still carried a eerie sense of calm, something so omnipresent in Kerala. Men jostled around wrapping their mundus almost flawlessly, women moved around hurriedly in semi-crisp saris with their long hair, oiled, slightly frizzled, and clawed perfectly in middle. People had a strong sheen on their body and face. Probably it was the high humidity levels, or it was the excess coconut oil dripping, or perhaps being in the literary capital of Kerala, the seat of Malayama Manorama and the first city with 100% literacy, it was the shine of knowledge.

I walked towards a bakery. A bakery is Kerala is much more than a mere bakery. Although one can’t beat their puffs or Sharjah milk shakes, bakeries represent much more than selling baked goods and a joint for leisure-time snacking. It’s a place for breakfast, for buying household items and groceries, a strong PoS for multinational consumer goods companies, a place which a working father visits every evening post work to buy sweets for his kids, and a place where retired folks execute their Kerala version of a Bengali adda.

I couldn’t resist having an egg puff and a Sharjah. The former a beautiful combination of boiled egg with caramelized onions inside a layered pastry, the latter a banana, dates, Horlicks-infused milkshake which will make you forget even our worst losses to Pakistan at Sharjah. Ok, probably not the Miandad sixer one.

I inquired about the bus to Kumarakom village and was immediately directed towards one across the road. I took the bus and got a comfortable seat. While I was busy clearing the small flaky remains of a thoroughly enjoyed egg puff of my t-shirt, I was shrugged off by a set of ladies to vacate the seat. I got up politely and then got lost in a series of nonsensical thoughts for rest of the 10-12 km journey.

I got down at Kumarakom town, just another one in the rather continuous series of never ending cities and towns in Kerala. Being densely populated, the state has evolved as series of habitations, in sharp contrast to the open agricultural spaces one is used to seeing across other parts of India. I strolled towards another bakery, sipped a tea, inquired a bit about the locality, and started walking.

The road towards Vemabanad lake slowly unravelled itself, the scenery evolved from a small residential town to a leading holiday destination, as the resorts grew in both number as well as size. Being a tourist-lean season one couldn’t see much activity around. I was now in desperate need of a conversation to drive my day forward, and so I entered one resort. And what followed was never planned for, it just happened.

Somewhere in Kumarakom

I got a salute from the security guard, and a lot of steps later, a smile from the receptionist. I introduced myself as a HR of famous IT company, in search for good resort for my middle management outbound of around 150 people. Smile changed into happiness, it was like this rainfall after a tough hot summer, like a weekend after a tough week of work, or quite simply, the feeling of selling some rooms in the off-peak season.

Suddenly I saw activity all around me, staff started moving around, a Manager was called for, I was asked what would I like to drink, to which I quite egoistically replied, something alcoholic. I was handed over quite a neat menu, of which I happily picked up a Pinacolada.

In the mean time the manager came up, quite visibly just up from sleep. He started asking for my requirements which I kept generating on the fly. He then gave me tour of the resort, from the spa and pool, to the gardens and business centres. What caught my eye was the beautiful Vemabanad, what caught my ears the sound of raindrops plopping on the lake, what caught my nose was smell of freshness. Sorry, but the manager was just pure noise.

I spent sometime and then bid goodbye with the promise of sending them the plan. I had been a bit naughty today, but given the long trip, I think I deserved some pampering.

As soon as I left the resort and started walking towards the jetty, there was a sudden gush of rainfall. Initially I couldn’t find any shelter, but then a small home cum kirana store in between a sort of a plantation came to rescue. Aunty running the store offered me a cigarette, but I pleaded for a tea. Semi-wet and slightly shivery, I cupped the warm steel glass of tea tightly. There were a few duplicate Parle-G’s to dip, beautiful sound of the rainfall hitting the banana trees in the their plantation, and some sweet noise of the aunty chattering in Malayalam.

I thanked aunty for the tea, made payments which she refused to take. I offered to buy out her entire stock of cream biscuits (10-12 packs), to which she gleefully agreed. I got a pat on the back, some sweet chatter, and oodles of smile as a farewell gift.

I walked towards the Jetty, the sun had come out again, but clouds still lingered on waiting for the right moment to strike. I boarded the ferry to Muhamma Jetty. More than a year back I had paid INR 12,000 for browsing this lake on a houseboat, today I paid INR 12!

I distributed few biscuits on board. There were school kids, office goers, men and women on just another journey. Water transport is so unique for an outsider, so normal for a Keralaite, and its effective too. Infact the public transport system in Kerala is one of the best in the country. The journey went for around 35-40 mins. It was peaceful, with Vemabanad silently playing with clouds, people on board mostly in an afternoon siesta mode, broken by the clicking sound of my camera, and the persistent buzz of the boat. As soon as I reached Muhamma, it started raining again. I rushed for the bus stop and caught a bus to Alleppy.

Leaving Kumarakom Jetty

Clouds vs. Vembanad

Somewhere before Muhamma

Alleppy or Alappuzha is often compared to Venice, the entire area is a well connected network of canals leading to backwaters. The city was preparing for the upcoming Nehru Cup (Annual Snakeboat racing event), and there were 100s of posters all over the place. From politicians, to film stars, to jewelry brands. Vijay’s Jos Alukkas looked like a clear winner in terms of promotion, beating Mohan Lal’s Malabar Gold by a significant margin. I landed at Mullackal Road which seemed like the city center. Markets were busy selling bright and colorful stuff, things looked pretty chaotic. I had a sudden realization that I was still to have a full meal since morning. I consulted the traffic police guy, and suggested me KreamKorner.

I opted for a Sadya, and asked for additional egg curry on the side. The usual suspects- boiled rice, sambhar, rasam, and avial were present. The Kaalan (kadhi like preparation) and payasam were perfect. Egg curry was a bit of a disappointment, but combined with the papad and some lovely sun-dried stuffed chilies I washed down couple of heaps of rice. I walked out of the place- content, happy, and full.

Sadya at Kreamkorner

A short walk, followed by a bus ride brought me back to Muhamma. In between I had picked up a couple of cans of beer for company, both poking out of my pockets, demanding attention. As I waited for the ferry at Muhamma (which it seems was delayed quite a bit) an uncle pointed out that the can was about to fall. I asked him whether he would like to have one? His agreement to this suggestion was reflected by a toothless smile. Both of us turned our backs towards other people, sat down and enjoyed our beers. I was looking at this:

At Muhamma Jetty

Did I feel better now? Certainly. Will I do something like this again? Definitely.

Ok, probably no more of that HR roleplay.

Tried out Tripline, pretty good tool to animate maps. Here is a summary of my trip

http://www.tripline.net/api/tripviewer.swf

June 22, 2013
To Sri Lanka, with Love.

Hi Sri Lanka,

I am quite to used to writing letters, just that it has been some time since I felt like writing one for someone. But then I couldn’t resist dropping you note.

It has been a month since I left your shores, and I have thought about you quite often. Before I met you, I had known you only through Cricket, the legend of Ramayana, and sometimes through the history of long running conflict between your children. As a kid who enjoyed bits of the Ramayana (through the eyes of Ramanand Sagar and Uncle Pai) and lots of Cricket, I grew up visualizing you across these two dimensions. But then actual meetings do break notions and change perceptions.

My week long journey took me across your coastal waist line, a bit towards your mountainous heart, and slightly up towards your brain full of knowledge, culture, and tradition.

I have always been attracted towards a curvy waistline like yours. But in your case the attraction was more a result of your immaculate shores and cheerful inhabitants. Sitting on your shores, where the clean waters of Indian Ocean playfully stroked the sands at Hikkaduwa and Unawatuna and skies promptly changed colors through all the shades of a Doordarshan-VIBGYOR, I felt completely at peace. It was a relaxing, a Po-like feeling, sound-years away from all the noise of the city I live in. It was here that I found your kin of happy, beach-cricket playing Buddhists flashing their toothy grins, and flaunting their attractive dark shiny skin, with long flowing Malinga-like hair (probably as a result of their protein-rich seafood diet). In between those smiles, I also came across a few broken grins, carrying wounds of the Tsunami which violated your shores some years back. But the smile of my toothless Scuba Diving instructor assured me that you and your children had moved on.

I left the comfort of your waist and followed your partially ruptured network of railway tracks, and neatly laid out roads towards the central highlands. It was at Kandy where I found the lost tooth of your child’s smile, quite amazingly being that of the Buddha himself. It was the Temple of Tooth which gave me an alternate mythological narrative to the India-Sri Lanka relationship, so deeply engrained in the Ramayana, where the story of the tooth depicted through a series of paintings “Amar Chitra Katha-ed” me. Beyond the temple, with the noise coming back Kandy had started feeling a bit more like home. If your waistline gave me peace and comfort, your heart palpitated between the noisy and the normal, between the brawn and the Buddha.

The City of Kandy

A trip southwards of Kandy would have led us to the beautiful highlands of Nuwara Elaya and Horton Plains, but we chose to navigate northwards. The trek to the royal seat of Sigriya, crossing its recovered 4^th Century A.D. compound, its neatly reconstructed gardens, its faded frescos, and artificially constructed staircases helped me overcome my curiosity. It might have been the ruling post of the mighty King Kashyapa, but for me it was my small seat of enlightenment. Sitting atop acres of dark forests, and a murky set of clouds passing at a knee-length, I felt like a learned man. I was happy that I got to know and experience you a bit more. And I finally had an answer to why those Lions are printed on your dress. I wish I could have traveled deeper into your brain towards Anuradhapura, but then the time was less, and I had to caress your hand on my way back home.

The Road to Sigriya

I chose your right hand, the industrious, populated city of Colombo. I saw your children working hard, be it the stock exchange white-collared executives or the street vendors at Galle Face. All of a sudden you were as noisy as my own country, and the lines between you and India blurred. But I noticed more happiness on the face of your children. They all seemed content. You it seems are content after the war has ended. You also have a strong leader running your country. You are lucky.

It was in Colombo where I truly discovered your passion for the gentlemen’s game. From the kids playing Cricket on the Galle Face promenade, to a nostalgic and gastronomically satisfying evening at Cricket Club Café, my last moments in Sri Lanka were spent in the company of a sport we both equally love.

Cricket Club Cafe, Colombo

And there was the food. Yes the food. Oh, those angelic prawns, devilled dishes, and liters of EGB.

I saw you talking to others to my friend. A lot of travelers come from western countries looking for what I found, but I could notice the special bond you shared with Britishers (probably the aftereffect of the Raj), Australians (influence on Cafés, Steaks, Burgers, and the City of Galle which shares a deep, but recent connect with the continent-nation), and Indians (with whom you share a love-hate relationship). And yes then there were our new friends, the Chinese. I know they are building you bridges, but do remember who built the first bridge to connect your country with the world.

I miss you a bit and so I will be back. For watching a Test Match at Galle, or probably to wander through the remains of Anuradhapura, or for a dive at Trincomalee.

Thanks for the hospitality and comfort you gave me.

Peace. Quite truly.

Desh

Photos were clicked by either Nishant or me.

February 4, 2013
What to eat in Sri Lanka?

Angelic Prawns, Devilled Chillies, and lots of EGB!!!

My journey across Sri Lanka flipped me through a variety of experiences, but the ones which stood out were the Prawns (in salads, curries, butter garlic, cocktail, and an endless list), the devilled recipes (chicken, prawns, vegetables and a brilliant Maggi flavor), usage of some vegetables and fruits which we don’t find that commonly in India (such as Leeks and Avocados), and an ability to merge western influences with local cuisine, both from the legacy of the British Raj, as well as island’s Australian linkages.

Sri Lankan food bears close resemblance to the food served in South India, especially that of Kerala, with bits of Tamil Nadu in it too. But there are some heavy influences of Indian-Chinese cuisine too. And given the growing presence of China in the region, it seems even the cuisine will be dominated by them soon.

The Complete Sri Lankan Meal

After a brilliant experience at Sigriya, Saman’s Guest House was the best thing which could have happened to us. Situated close to the Cave Temples at Dambulla, they serve (or claim to serve) an authentic Sri Lankan meal. The meal included a heap of steamed rice served with (starting from far right corner in clockwise order), Breadfruit, Cabbage, Beetroot, Mango Chutney, Dal Curry, Cucumber, Chicken Gravy, Fried Pappadam and Fried Chillies.

Complete Sri Lankan Meal at Samans, Dambulla

The meal had heavy influences of a Kerala meal, but was way less spicier than any type of Indian cuisine. The Breadfruit preparation was unique, and a new experience. Prepared with coconut, it was a bit like Jackfruit, but still quite different. Chicken Curry was very meek, and so were the other veggies. Although we were happy to have a simple meal after days of Devilled dishes.

But for a SLR 800, I think we deserved a bit more than mildness.

Breakfast Items

Sri Lankan breakfast borders on similarities with South Indian cuisine, but just as you feel you are eating the same thing, there is always a difference which pops up in mouth. An interesting thing which we noticed was the breakfast serving style (common in Lankan bakeries too). A heap of available items is served on a plate and you can pick and choose what you want, and they would keep a track of what you eat and how much, even in a Buffet format.

Common items include Hoppers (our own Idiyappam), Roti (Rice Flour Bread) served with Fish / Potato curry, and Vadai (in various styles, ranging from regular Medu Vada, Vada made from slightly roughly grounded daal, and the weirdest of them all, Vadas with Prawns and Crabs stuck on them, a popular Sri Lankan Railway snack too).

Prawns Vadai, you can even see their moustache!!!

On our way To Dambulla, we stopped at a small place for breakfast. It was a breakfast buffet, where I picked up hoppers with Pol Sambol (a tangy mix of fresh coconut, chilies, and onions, with tones of tamarind), Vadai and Potato Curry (really mild). The spread also included a Fish Curry and Roti, something which I can never eat for breakfast.

Bits of a Sri Lankan Breakfast Buffet

Picked up this platter at a small hotel near Colombo bus stand, similar stuff just that we got some hot sambhar (Tamil style) with some fresh coconut and tomato chutney. Vadai was very rough, and cold. But breakfast for 3 came to 180 SLR!

Sri Lankan Breakfast, Tamil Style!

My Mamaji always tells me that the person who loves eggs, will never be in a situation of not having anything decent to eat in any part of the world. And this Cheese Omelet at Anura’s Café inside Galle Fort didn’t disappoint.

Plain Cheese Omlet

Prawns

Honestly by the end of my Sri Lankan trip I was slightly bored of eating Prawns. Poor prawns had been curried, grilled, fried, devilled, cocktail-ed so many times for me, that their entire species will be planning revenge on me soon.

The best ones I had were these Tiger Prawns at a sweet little Unawatuna Beachside Restaurant (which showcased some random Sri Lankan Folk Dance and Fireplay along with an open kitchen). I sucked on to these prawns as if there will be no tomorrow, and wiped them off with some steamed rice and Sri Lankan curry (which at these place was more like a mild Thai Curry with bits of Lemon Grass and Kaffir lime leaves). The meal was washed off with a glass of good quality Arrack and Coke.

Butter Garlic Tiger Prawns, with rice and curry

Devilled food

Devilled food forms a key style of Sri Lankan out-of-home eating experience. Devilled format is simple, it is a bit sweet, and but rates extremely high on the Scoville Scale. I have seen Devilled dishes (like Chicken and Egg) in some parts of Kolkata too. It is quite clearly an offshoot of the Indian-Chinese cuisine with extensive use of crunchy leeks and capsicums, eggs, and options of sea food, chicken or red meat. And yes it also has a Maggi flavor, with Sajid Khan’s muse and Sri Lanka’s most well-known face outside Cricket as its brand ambassador (Jacqueline, how did he get her!!!).

The Devilled Chicken at Mama’s Shack, Hikkaduwa was neatly done. It was our first meal in Lanka. The Chicken was crisp outside and perfectly cooked, with lots of leeks (giving it a nice crunchy, fresh feel), and a sauce which beat the hell out of Mr. Scoville. (if there was ever one)

Devilled chicken at Mama’s shack, Hikkaduwa

The Devilled Chicken Rice platter for SLR 350 at Lyons Restaurant, Hindu Kovil, Kandy was good value for money, but the taste didn’t match upto the Mama’s standard. The platter had rice, devilled chicken, gravy, and boiled eggs. Two of us couldn’t finish it fully. Tough place to find once you are in Kandy, but once you enter the Kovil area, it welcomes you with Vijay posters, some Tamil signboards, and Tamil Movie CD shops.

Devilled Rice Platter at Lyons, Kandy

Street Food

Vegetarians in Sri Lanka can rely on street food for two of its more popular items, Rotti and Kottu. Rotti is a stuffed Maida Paratha beaten to death with oil with stuffing ranging from the humble veggies to eggs, bacon strips, and the more outrageous Nutella. Although if you are a vegetarian, Rotti is one of your best options for a tasty snack.

Cheese Garlic Tomato Rotti

Kottu on the other hand is a popular dish down in Tamil Nadu. Broken pieces of the same Maida Paratha are scrambled with veggies, and/or meat. Surprisingly we had the best Kottu at the World Trade Centre Cafeteria, near Galle Face, Colombo. The vegetarian one had boiled chana added to it, along with cabbage and capsicum.

But the most satisfying one was consumed after a night long party at Hikkaduwa.

The Making of a Kottu

Other street food items included the Prawns Vadai (mentioned earlier), Tamil street food items like Sundal and Boiled Peanuts, and other breakfast items sold on street-side. I came across these Coconutty Jalebas too while walking near the Kandy Station. Their size reminded me of Indore, but the taste was something I couldn’t connect to.

Coconutty Jalebas

Bakeries

Bakeries in Sri Lanka were quite simply, disappointing, a bit like Jacqueline, beautiful looking, but with no substance. We visited Whitehouse and Bakehouse at Kandy, a Bakery near Galle Station. All of them were average, but very inexpensive.

Kandy Bakeries

Beverages

When it came to drinks, there were experiences both good and bad, but drinking EGB was something special. From the first sip I had at the Colombo Bus stand to the last sip I had at Mumbai, EGB was as special as Old Monk with Thums Up in days of pittance, or like a properly made Thandai for Holi, or probably a bit more than that. EGB is Sri Lankan brand of Ginger Beer (non-alcoholic), a fizzy Gingery drink which goes amazingly well with Sri Lankan food, especially the Devilled stuff. It’s tagline of No EGB, No Food was our food anthem during the entire trip. (SLR 95 for 600 ml bottle)

Giving some tough competition to EGB was Milo. Yes the same Milo which was launched unsuccessfully in India by Nestle few years back, is sold as a cold malted beverage (with Sri Lankan Cricket’s future Angelo Matthews as its Brand ambassador). Somehow I got extremely hooked on to its taste, consuming a significant number of boxes on the trip. (SLR 40 for 200 ml)

Other items included the Sri Lankan team (Sweetish, low on colour, less on fragrance, and mild), popular local beers (Lion’s was consumed in significant quantities, nothing special), Arrack with Lime and Coke (surprisingly delicious), and coconut water. Some local cold drinks were also tried out, including the popular Cream Sodas, but nothing came close to EGB.

My favorite bar on the trip was Sam’s Bar at Hikkaduwa. Run by Sam and his twin brother, this place boasts of a decent crowd, good discussions, a pool area, and a knowledgeable cricket and football loving audience. They serve really good burgers too, with the steaks deriving a lot of influence from Australian style of steak-making.

Another decent drinking place was The Pub at Kandy, a bit on the costlier side though.

Apart from the above we had a brilliant Avocado Milk Shake (along with a Mango shake, and they were selling Mangoes at a lot of places too) at Peddlers Inn, Galle Fort (one of the most beautiful café I have come across).

Mango Shake | Avocado Shake

Avocados are tropical fruits (popular for Guacamole dips) which are grown abundantly in Lanka. We also had a Pesto dripped Avocado salad at a beachside shack in Unawatuna, a very unique taste indeed, much different from the dips we are used to.

Avocado Salad with Pesto Olive Oil dressing and Greens

Cricket Club Café

Among all the places visited, I think Cricket Club Café (Colombo) deserves a special mention. The place is filled with nostalgia and so much cricket that anything else would hardly matter. From the memories of Ian Botham to Sachin to Akram, the décor of the place will surely evoke lot of memories and give you some Goosebumps.

But more than anything which would appeal a Cricket fan is its innovatively laid out food menu. The dishes are designed and named after Cricketing greats, and either includes some of their favourite dishes, or a brilliant superimposition of the player’s name or personality with the dish.

So the dishes were named from the slightly dim-witted Alan Lamb Chops, to the more intelligently named Holding’s Lips (Potato Wedges resembling Holding’s thick lips, and spice representing his fierceness). Some were named to maintain a rhyming theme like Compton Cashews (Spiced and fried cashews with curry leaves), and some were the player’s favourite recipes like the Bradman Special (Pancakes with syrup, fried bananas, ice cream and crushed peanuts). And there were cases where I couldn’t deduce any logic, like Jayawardena Special Pasta (very tasty though). Also lot of items on the menu also had a strong Australian lineage owing to its owners and Sri Lanka’s close ties with the island continent.

Cricket and Food at Cricket Club Cafe, Colombo

The trip to Sri Lanka was surely a memorable one (evident from what I had), but I hope I could have tried food at a Lankan home, that would have given me a really real sense of thier actual cuisine. Although to keep the tempo going, I got myself a kit of Lankan goodies I loved.

Devilled Maggi, EGB, and Milo back in Mumbai

Do read this brilliant post which I came across before visiting Sri Lanka, surely inspired me to go and eat more.

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In case you have visited Sri Lanka, how did your culinary adventure span out?

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February 1, 2013
A Walk through Misty-cal Shimla

It is still early in the morning and Shimla is slowly waking up to the misty morning chill and steaming tea vessels. The bus stop seems quite unprepared for 7AM in the morning, with newspaper vendors still unwrapping the Punjab Kesaris, and the bus windows being cleaned of dried vomit from yesterday’s torrid journeys. I walk towards a stall and ask for a cup of tea, sweetness much more than the heat of the first sip hits me. But I guess I require a sugar rush, for the long and tiring walk ahead.

Walking through Shimla is as much an exercise as it’s an experience. I climb towards the mall, the city center so beautifully built by the British that you tend to forget the puffed up breath and tiredness. There is beauty all over, the old Victorian structures and wooden buildings, the cutest of school kids in their bright uniforms and toned blazers, beautiful people with an amazing Himachali sheen on their skin, and above all the mist filled scenery one can enjoy all year-round.

Its around 8 AM now and the shops have started cleaning up for another day, I chuck the shops, shoo away the monkeys and walk towards the ridge after crossing scandal point. I buy a newspaper and sit on the old colonial style benches. Slowly the town seems to be waking up from its sleep. There is an extra-tone of brightness the sun has added to it, discussions are picking up all around, school kids are flocking the ridge area, and travel agents have started chasing the few tourists around.

I walk down towards the Indian Coffee House, a century old institution serving Filter Coffee and breakfast to the mall’s flockers. I enter the coffee house, take a window view and order a coffee. As I look out of the window I feel a sense of completeness, it has been a morning well spent, observing people, being on the sidelines of active discussions, and just soaking in the fresh air. Well a lot of calories have been burnt, time to eat something now!

October 5, 2012
So who wants to join me in Kerala :)

While I was on travel last month I came across a travel writing contest being organized by Mystikal Holidays, a Kerala based travel firm. I was in Shimla and wrote a small note on it.

You can read the note here.

So I have won couple of days at this good looking place at Kovalam (Uday Samudra Beach Resort). So who wants to join me in Kerala :)???

August 18, 2012
We are what we eat and whom we meet.

How about listening to locals talking about their life and aspirations while sipping a chai and dipping a Parle-G; or sharing a drink with an unknown traveler listening to their experiences; or cooking meals in someone’s kitchen creating chatpate menus; or weaving sari with a local weaver; or gobbling those lovely cutlets on Indian Railways while chatting with the most known strangers; or just covering the entire length of the country in a month, away from the weekly routine of working and waiting for weekends? Sounds decently interesting? Just a bit of what my India, or desh will be like for the next month.

For a month, I will be traveling across the country, biting my way through local cuisines and eating the brains out of all the adorable people I meet. It excites me as I get to do what pleases me the most, eating, learning, writing, and above all talking to people.

Ironically I have a much organized and clear plan for the chaotic Northern India, and a much more random one for the prim and proper Southern India. Half my tickets are booked, none of my stays are planned, and I am still to figure out of use a DSLR which my sister is lending me for a month. But most importantly I have planned what I intend to taste at each location and the kind of people I want to meet.

There are few people who have inspired me a lot recently, most notably Paul Theroux and his travel stories captured in The Great Railway Bazaar, and few travel writers but most notably a girl named Shivya and her writings at The Shooting Star.

I will be crossing most of the following cities on my travel, in case you happen to be in any one of them would be glad to catchup. The list includes: Varanasi, Agra, Mathura, Delhi, Shimla, Punjab (Amritsar, Chandigarh, Ludhiana), Bangalore, Pondicherry, Coonur, Kochi, Kannur, Bekal, Mangalore, Goa and Mumbai.

To follow all the updates from my trip please keep visiting the blog, like the Facebook page, or follow @desh on twitter.

Featured image by Ankit Varshneya.

July 13, 2012
The First Sip

Years ago when I was a kid, I had accidentally discovered and realized the existence of Alcohol. I had stumbled upon a bottle of Whiskey, while looking for something in my Father’s wardrobe. Till that point of time I had seen people drinking on-screen, but I certainly couldn’t imagine my father doing the same. There was something different about that moment when I held the bottle in my hands. Excitement, curiosity, or guilt? All I knew was that I will never drink alcohol when I grow up. There was something extremely repulsive about it back then.

Slowly things around me were changing, I started noticing the bottles of VAT 69 more prominently than Helen Aunty’s cabaret numbers while watching a 70s movie; I realized that the reason Murali Bhaiya made those brilliant appetizers at Nucleus Club parties – the taste of those egg cutlets and smell of that fish fry still lingers vividly in my memory; I realized that drinking alcohol can be fun, can make uncles go mad in New Year Parties, can lead aunties to talk about behaviour of those uncles and can lead to kids getting excited about it. There was always that bit of excitement in class whenever our Chemistry teacher threw out the name of C2H5OH from his mouth. Few of my friends had taken up smoking and chewing tobacco but drinking alcohol was still faraway. Alcohol in those days to me was a distant dream and I told to myself, I will never ever smoke. But drinking, yes will consider that for sure.

Few years later engineering college presented the first opportunity to breakaway for many of us. Of course the stupid cinema of 90s had coloured our thoughts to such an extent that many of us still believed colleges to have sprawling lawns, a healthy sex ratio, more pyaar than padhai and those amazing costumes (girls wearing frocks with puffed shoulders and flowery belts and guys wearing tight jeans with Action shoes). Fortunately (much more than unfortunately) I landed up in a dry state. Although the presence of lawns in my college was evident, I would rather not comment on the rest of parameters mentioned above.

Gujarat has been a dry state because Gandhiji was born there. It would have been much more interesting if Gandhiji would have been born in Punjab, very very interesting.

Despite being a dry state, in Gujarat alcohol is easily available. Be it petrol pumps, paan thelas, soda waalas, almost everyone is a supplier or claims to be one. During my engineering years I still thought about drinking sometimes, but the phattu me (or the law-abiding me) was scared to take the plunge. Maybe I was waiting for the right time, maybe I just found spending money from home on drinking an inappropriate thing. As always I was confused to take a call.

It was in this state of confusion, (just before the placements, end of 3rd year) we set out on a trip to Abu. I had read about Dilwara temple in school textbooks, and heard stories about Abu Road station’s brilliant omlettes and rabdi from Delhi junta boarding the Ashram express. Although I had never realized that Mt. Abu was flocked by Gujarati tourists for another major reason, to get DRUNK. Legally that is.

The trip was a memorable one for many reasons. 17 odd guys (and healthy ones) going for a trip packed in one Tempo Trax from Ahmedabad to Mt. Abu; one of my friend showing his ability to sleep anywhere, from railway station platform, to roads, to bus floors; visit to Dilwara temple on the final day of trip; all of us running out of money and a saviour coming up with 1000 Rs. But I will always remember this trip as the one I had my first sip. And what a sip it was!!!

We gathered some money to buy a bottle of White Mischief (yes almost the cheapest Vodka available), a couple of bottles of Sprite, some lemon and Lays American Cheese and Onion chips. 8 of us sitting, 7 of them have had their first sips, and I was the only debutant. Visibly nervous, I was being constantly lectured by my friends about both the goods and bads of drinking. I was in no position to think that much, my motive was just to go for it. It was a mixture of emotions. Excitement, curiosity, or guilt?

My friend passed me the glass, adding the caution, tera pehla hai, chota banaya hai. As I held the glass in my hand all those memories and thoughts which I have mentioned earlier passed before me. The strongest vision being of Dev Sahab drinking a Vat 69. Cheers they said and I gulped it.

All I felt was warmth. I could trace the path through my oesophagus all the way to my stomach. I didn’t feel the sprite, neither did I feel the lemon, it was all warm. And I have had it in one shot.

Hold the drink they said.

And I kept on gulping them until I was four down. I was feeling warm in a so-called hill station. Slightly dizzy too. People were talking, and as always I was also talking. It was my first sip, and honestly it wasn’t anything special. It was something very normal. Not a big event as I had anticipated it to be. They asked me to go out for a walk so that I could feel better. But I told them I felt good. Or maybe I still didn’t know how I felt like.

Was it excitement, curiosity, or guilt?

As I recollect now this wasn’t actually my first sip. I had Mohua (an Indian liquor produced in tribal areas) at the end of first year, but it was a non-significant event, just had a bit in a dona.

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What is your story of your first sip?

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Featured image by Prasoon Gupta

June 10, 2012
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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February 29, 2012
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.

February 3, 2012
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
January 1, 2012