Lubna's Chaat Party

With exam fever gripping the city, my friends are studying round the clock to teach their children. My very good buddy, Lubna decided to break the monotony by throwing a chaat party for the over studied mommy brigade.

There is something about women and pani puri. The sweet, tangy, spicy concoction that explodes in your mouth even as you frantically try to chew/swallow the mouthful, while holding the small bowl of dripping spicy water in one hand, while the other hand ineffectively swipes the stray drops that may have escaped as the teeth bites into the crunchy puri... is just a shade short  of the 50 Shades of Grey... in other words, a full blown orally flavoured orgasm.

The goodies for the feast were laid out..and on the menu was this fruit chaat.. it's better than the ones served on the streets of Delhi. The jaggery chutney had just that amount of bite to make the fruits taste sweet n tart.

Dahi bhallas, dahi chaats...also did the rounds. The girlie gang dug in... with the host and house help trying hard to match the speed of putting them on a platter to that of those devouring them...

Jhaal moori and bhel puri also made an appearance.. the

evening was rounded by malai kulfis from Juhu Chowpatty. One bright girl rightly said, "This beats eating pani puris from a street vendor. No need of counting the number of puris consumed. "

 My only thought was of the poor kids. Nothing can beat rejuvenated moms hell bent on ensuring the kids are well prepared for the exams. Well, all I can say is, "A mom's pani puri is a kid's nightmare..."

Happy Studying...

The King is here

Genuflect all you smaller beings, the King is here... The

Mango season has started, heralded by the arrival of the Alphonso...

The peel is tinged with a touch of green, even though it's yellow all over. Once you peel it, the aroma takes you close to sexual bliss... and the taste, well a spoon short of complete sweetness, is perhaps the best way to describe the season's first harvest.

Priced at close to a 1000 bucks per dozen, this is no budget fruit. For us, growing up in the eastern part of the country, mango season came in July when the Langra aam, used to be harvested in Bihar. And costing us, not more than a 100 bucks a kilo...

Today, March ushers us this heavenly fruit.. But thanks to Katrina Kaif, the slice of mango is available all year around. No food product in the world has such an erotic undertone when it comes to advertising it's wares. I swear, if anyone has seen the Slice commercial where that one drop of mango juice lies tantalisingly on Kats' luscious lips and is then wiped clean with a delicate lick of the tongue....ufff... hail mary's need to be recited to cleanse the vivid imagery and beyond...

So, what's it going to be for you? Alphonsos or a Slice of.... it's heavenly on the senses, either ways...

Food Tales of Carmel School

It may be extremely tough to believe this... as a kid, I hated food and was tiny for my size. This is the truth and most of my friends in Carmel School, Digboi, will attest this.

I was put in the hostel at the age of 4 as my father was a tea planter and tea plantations were often in very isolated places. All my friends from the neighbouring gardens were put up, and so it was a huge family residing together, where everybody knew everybody. 

As the school was a convent, our Sisters were very particular about wastage. There was just no way one could get up from the table without finishing the food. Sister Almina, nicknamed Alu, was a demon in disguise. She would just sit in the table waiting for me to polish off my plate. 

This torture continued till I was 7 years old.. by then, I had hit upon a novel idea of finishing my food.. I started dumping the food in my panties, walking out, rather awkwardly, to the bathroom and flushing it. This continued for 3 years, until one day...

For evening tea, we were served boiled chick peas. The kabuli chana was the pits... I continued with my modus operandi, put the peas in my panties, and walked out of the dining hall. Unfortunately the damned peas began spilling as I sauntered out. 

By jove, I got a hiding that nearly had me flat on my stomach for a week. The bums had turned black n blue. Worse, all my friends, my friends parents, their siblings... the whole school, society for chrissake knew about my escapade. And my mother finally figured out why my white panties always had yellow stains.

For years, at every reunion, this story was the most narrated and also the one that got the biggest laughs. Now, I rest it in peace... so, all u Carmelites, stop the sniggering... it's buried for good.

Blood, Sweat and Lunch.. with Salman Khan

Mumbai is baking at 40 degrees. And the temperature soars with the ever so hot Salman Khan. Clad in a white ganji, the actor looks cool as a cucumber as he saunters to give his shot. 

Pan wala ghumtis, tea stalls, the poor man's lodging.. all props for the actor where he is shooting with some junior actors, who play auto rickshaw drivers.

Shooting with Salman is like getting lost in a mela. There are some 400 people around, and they have nothing to do with the shoot in progress. Some are fans, some are directors, scriptwriters, some journalists, some ainvee... his following is stupendous. 

Chatting with him is a delight. No airy stars as he sits under the awning of his van, giving time to all and sundry.. autographs signed, photographs posed for, shot given and it's time for lunch. 

The Khan loves his food and the production has gone a bit overboard.. mutton biryani, fish fry, kababs on the tandoori and the ubiquitous Diet Coke. I am a happy soul.

The desserts were plenty, but this was specially ordered... a masseur on the set. As the sun climbed high, the luxury quotient increased. And taking away the stress and exhaustion was the man with the magic fingers... bliss..

But then boori nazar lag gayee.. In my sleepy state, I fell into a pot sized hole, wrenched my knee and twisted my ankle...

But what was there to complain??? Blood and sweat took a backseat in the illustrious company of food, massage and Salman.

Where is the plane?

Where is the plane? How did it disappear ? And worse, how CAN it disappear? Living in this century where Google Maps can locate your house, an aeroplane has just vanished from our orbit and the might of so many nations and their technology has failed to give any credible explanation. 

I am so baffled and at the same time filled with anguish. The fact that Malaysian Airlines has scrapped away the flight no MH370 as a mark of respect, adds to the turmoil. Have they given up hope?  

Can you imagine the frantic calls that were made by the relatives to the passengers. 10,000 kilos of steel and iron, fitted with the latest in aeronautical technology, 250 odd people and no trace of anything... the fact that there is no closure, makes the grief difficult to cone to terms with. 

Each country has a cross to bear in today's era of terror and terrorism. If America had 9/11, India had a 26/11. Malaysia, with its amazingly warm

people, the rich ethnic culture, the towering Petronas Towers, the hugely popular Genting Highlands... all will be relegated to the background as now on, it will be referred as the land of the Missing MH370. Prayers for all the aggrieved.

"Holi"day in Shirdi

Holidays and mini vacations are what makes the break so eventful. My in laws were visiting from Assam and had requested a visit to Shirdi to pay homage to Sai Baba. The first break came our way during the long Holi weekend. 

We packed our bags and drove down in our car towards Nasik.. as we took a turn towards Shirdi from the highway, we saw small little stalls being set up on the roadside... the local farmers were selling local produce like grapes, raisins, cabbage, onions...

In the course of my travels across the country, mostly by road,  I have realised that nothing beats the freshness of local produce. The half kilo of grapes were big and sweet... the pale green skin was thin and a bite of the fruit, flooded the mouth with its sweetness and tartness. The raisins were the same.. freshly dried. Each fruit had the taste that I had never got whenever I had bought them from the Star Bazars in Mumbai.

My husband stopped the car and decided to buy the veggies for the week.. we were so spoilt for choice. The brinjals were big, fat and round, the cabbages were green with all their leaves intact and what amused us all, was when Bobby took a long knife to cut the extra long stalks of the cauliflower. Looks like a pro, huh....

Shopping in the hot sun of 44 degrees is tough. With local sugarcane juice stalls all over, we quenched our thirst with ganne ka juice, seasoned with freshly squeezed lemon ... slurrrrp.. some things are just worth it...

We were in Onion Country. Nasik supplies the country's onion requirements. The onions... big, pink skinned and dry... selling for 8 bucks a kilo was not what made me buy them, but a thought that the farmer's wife could see the joy on our

faces when we were buying their rich harvest.

But when we reached home, we realised that the packed onions were mostly rotten... serves me right for being taken in by the benign face...

We could not pay homage to the deity at Shirdi as the queue snaked across miles and miles of human faces. We were told to pay a sum of 5000 bucks if we wanted the Darshan. There was just no way I would pay to seek divine blessings... yet another very disturbing aspect of India.

But it was fun... lovely long drive, great vegetable shopping, a few hi's and hello's with some cheats, a distant Darshan of the Shirdi Sai Baba...India is so beautiful... the vibrancy of the people, the culture, the heritage of agriculture and food, has to be tasted to understand why we say India is so unique. Incredible India, it truly is... kaash, 2014 would have had many more lengthy holidays.

Holi with the Bachchans

I was a reporter at NDTV, almost a decade ago when the Bachchan family had a huge Holi party. I was the only journalist to be invited to this prestigious gathering. I was elated. I hail from Assam with no illustrious filmy connections, and for me to make it this far, felt tremendous.

But like most irritating, spineless and mean bosses, I too boasted of one. Sonal Joshi, my head, insisted on me covering the Bachchan party with a live coverage once I had applied for leave to attend the party. There was no way I would attend the party if I had to go inside, check out the activities and report it on camera.

I was hurt and furious. Jaya Bachchan had also invited my parents over once she knew they were visiting me. So at 9 am, I was in my designated area outside Prateeksha, the Bachchan home where the party was being organised, giving

my reports. At 1pm, my parents came by. I took them inside the hallowed gates. I introduced them to Mr Bachchan, Mrs Bachchan and Abhishek. I politely told them that I could not attend the party as my ethics would not allow me to do so.

The gracious family took my parents inside and told me not to worry, they would be well looked after. And that once I finished my reporting, I could join the party. 

By 3pm, my boss realised that I was not going to report on any activity that was happening inside and told me to pack up. I hurried inside Prateeksha, where immediately the father and son duo, took me to a tub of coloured water and drenched me with loud, boisterous shouts of Happy Holi. For me, my time under the sun had started.

All the noted names were there. I ate such a wide variety of catered food that boasted of multiple cuisines from Indian to Mexican, to street food to gourmet food.. 

Perhaps for the first time, food took a back seat as my father and mother took me in their arms, proud of their daughter, for sticking by her principles and yet coming a winner. 

My Birthday Special

42 is the new age 24. I feel young, have a good career,  I finally have money in my wallet and in my bank, and I have a lovely man who loves me as much as I do... just some things that we want, and if it comes true, it's a Blessed feeling. 

So my birthday started with the pineapple cake cutting ceremony organised by my 3 year old, Zehn. And ended with

this strawberry cake cutting ceremony, a gift sent by my childhood friend, Meenu Chadha and celebrated with my NDTV  friends.

The dinner party was at my house. The menu is always a given as my hubby baby is a gourmet cook and pork has to be on the table. The rest is just an obligation to fill an empty dining table.

Bobby has a strange attitude. He will only cook for me or people he likes. The Sultan of Brunei may pay him a 100,000 guineas, but it will not make an iota of  difference to good ole Bobby.

My NDTV friends are hugely special.. Vrushali is an author and Yasmin is a rich Bawi socialite. The fourth one is Suvi, who is an author of the famous kiddie series,The Purple

Turtle, who relocated to Kolkata after marriage. These three wonderful people pushed me into writing this food blog for 6 months. Little did I realise that I had spent 18 years as a cricket and film reporter, when my real love lay in writing about food.

                                                        

Anyways, the bill of fare on my table is this roasted pork marinated for 8 hours with the usual condiments of vinegar, ginger, garlic, soya sauce and this ONE bright red chilli, the spiciest chilli in the world. And put away in an oven to cook for 4 hours. Its such a pleasure to feed people who love their food and I raise a toast to my wonderful guests. 

The creme de la resistance was this humble banana, slightly fried in butter, sugar which was caramelised with a dash of Jack Daniels. The dessert demanded seconds, but the pork had occupied the better and most part of the stomach. My methi malai chicken, was given, but a cursory disdainful glance.

Last year, I did not know I could write a blog. Today, I have almost a 1000 people who have read my 10 blogs till date. Each "like" that you all have pressed, each comment that you all have made, has encouraged me to find something so happy and fruitful inside me, that I can only say a very humble thank you for giving me your time and attention. Happy Birthday to me, and many many thanks to all of u, especially, Vrush, Yas and Suvi.

Flavours of Golconda in Mumbai

If you are a foodie and people know about it, then Facebook is the best place where restaurantuers lure you with their latest delicacies. I fell prey to these blow ups of food when The Golconda Bowl sent them to me… The mutton dishes like this one,  Gosht Shikhampoori ka kabab, Patthar ka Gosht...fired my imagination and taste buds like nothing else could.

I began looking for a bali ka bakra to take me out to eat the various bakre ka dishes. A former colleague and very close friend, Rashmi was celebrating her birthday and so she pulled the short straw very gallantly and extravagantly I must add and took us out…and not just me, but another close couple, newly weds, Amruta and Mandar. Must say, the couples were terribly colour co-ordinated… 

So this is what you must try out and most certainly avoid in this restaurant… the mutton shorba is MUST. Its thick, spicy redolent with spices of the Nizam’s kitchen and a sure appetite booster for all the goodies to come. Patthar ka Gosht is a dish where the boneless mutton cube is leavened out to a thin slice, marinated with various spices like ginger, garlic, onions, garam masala and cooked over coals… Its got this divine barbeque burnt aroma tingling the palette with its spices. Pl go for seconds…

Conversation, jal jeera, mutton made a rich combination. We had taken the non veg unlimited platter… Is’nt there something so lovely about the word, “unlimited”… No need to worry about extra plates or food running short…the appetite is generously spread across appetizers to the main course and then dessert. And raising the stakes was the veg starter called Kut Mirchi...tangy, spicy and fried... gastronomically demanding extra attention amidst all the meat dishes. 

One dish that intrigued me was Bhindi Gosht. How could this vegetable be had with mutton. I was right. The twain did not meet. But then there was the biryani and the lovely boiled egg that I greedily took before the others could get a glimpse of.

The desserts were varied, but the Double Ka Meetha is a must. Fried bread with some milk and malai, was a great way to end the evening. And now I am planning to have my birthday with my girlie friends this week. Whoever wants to join, pl come...15^th lunch at The Golconda Bowl…

Celebrating Rashmi's birthday at The Golconda Bowl

The Tale of Red Chillies

Today we bid adieu to one of the finest producers of Indian cinema.. head honcho of Red Chillies and right hand man of Shah Rukh Khan, Bobby Chawla.

A prayer service was organised by his sister, the ever so elegant and dignified Juhi Chawla. Unlike other prayer services that I have attended in Mumbai, this one was to celebrate the absolutely colourful life of Bobby. From colleagues like Haroon and Vivek, to his music teacher, Prashant Sir refreshed our memories of the effervescent Bobby...and finally, SRK took the mike. 

Departing from his favourite black attire, Shah was in white kurta pyjama. An emotional man, the actor gave his speech in a choked voice drenched with emotion, choked with unshed tears... and ended singing the beautiful song , O rahi hee. O rahi hee..

While everyone narrated stories about Bobby's philosophy of being a maha kanjoos production man, my relationship had to do with food.. what else????

I was working with Red Chillies where Bobby was the CEO. Now, this company owned by SRK used to serve lunch on the house apart from the sinfully delicious Maggi made by the head cook, Ramji. The lunch was wholesome,  dal, sabzi, roti, chawal, dahi, papad, pickle... Fridays, we were served chicken and rajma.

The various workers at Red Chillies would groan and moan after lunch. Ramji was the biggest asset of this hugely famous production house. Every year when SRK's cook used to head to the gaon for his annual chutti, Ramji would be transferred to Mannat.

That was a serious grouse with everyone and facing the brunt of our hunger and frustration was the ever smiling, Bobby. Every year how this man controlled the starving lot at Red Chillies for 2 months, was his biggest achievement. 

Today I say farewell to my friend who shared my table at Red Chillies over some awesome home cooked food...

The 1 Day Gauhati Food Fest

Pls note that this is not a figment of my imagination...

When you are in Gauhati for a day, and the food options are galore. Follow this diet. You will get all the carbs, proteins and veggie nutrients...one dreams about.                                                                                                           

Land in Gauhati by the morning flight. Then stop at Maligaon, and have the piping hot samosas. They are fried every morning till 11.30. As you bite into it, be careful, as you will be welcomed by a curl of steam. The potato filling has the peel and it is liberally added with peas and peanuts . One will not be sufficient, but resist the temptation as you can feed the sweet craving with goja. It is exquisite in its combination with a singara, that's what a samosa is called in Assam.

Lunch has to be fish curry and rice. Go towards the town and halt at a place called Silpukhri, hop over to Paradise Restaurant and have steamed rice with aari fish kalia and small puthi ya bhangun fish fry... end it with the hilsa fish in mustard sauce. 

 

By now, you will not be full, but stuffed to your gills. Pun intended. Hunt for a bed pronto. While the stomach works, the body needs to rest and prepare for the next onslaught.

Luci and bhaji is the tea that you should be looking to eat. Call up your local friends, make sure you are invited and give them enough notice for this food to be prepared. Luci is the puri, but made with maida. The bhaji is made with the button sized potatoes and garnished with boiled eggs, cut in the centre.

 The art of eating luci is not to count how many you are eating. Go with the flow. And make sure you have it with the local chilli, Jack fruit or olive pickle. The spice of the pickle with the simply cooked bhaji and luci, makes this tea extremely satisfying. 

 

Now you go for a walk by the Brahmaputra, near a place called Kachari Bazar.. it is a bazar, where you get the best of the local produce. The green of the vegetables guarantees their freshness and it whets up your appetite                  in no time. 

                                                      Dinner... the best time to hit a restaurant is 8.30.. look for any Chinese joint... the egg fried rice and hakka noodles is something that needs to be tasted to be believed. The noodles are extra fine, the veggies are crunchy and the flavour of the east can be delectable to the most discerning tongue. 

Go for the chilli pork and any chicken dish that catches your fancy. Eat a lot, as Chinese food digests very fast... 

The day is complete, 10,000 calories later. This day long dining is not for the faint hearted. I did it.

Bon Appétit 

I plan diet, God delivers Kolkata rolls

After some sinful eating over the last week, thanks to a very hectic shooting schedule, it was time to give my body some detox food.

This is a recipe that I have used every time I want to stop my binging. Turai is this green veggie, cut into half inch half moon size, which is added to a kadhai that has 3 drops of olive oil and half a sliced onion. Once the water dries, add salt, pepper and a few granules of sugar with a cup of slim milk. If u want to enhance the taste, add some butter.

At 8 pm, I decided to have a bowl of that delicious veggie, half an hour after I downed a Patiala glass of chaas. Dinner was light and satisfying. I was reading a book, totally engrossed in it, when my hubby declared, I am hungry. 3 hours had passed since I had supped.

Like a giant reptile waking up from a slumber, hunger pangs invaded my body. It coiled around my gut, gripping me in its fever. I drank some water to assuage it. The hunger was insulted, it rebelled with a vengeance. 

Half an hour later, we were scouting for a place to serve something, anything... We zeroed in on Hangla's, a popular road side eatery in Andheri. I ordered the famous Kolkata roll... a double egg roll and a chicken cutlet.

The cutlet failed to pass muster as,the roll was just divine. Crisp on the out, soft inside..with some thinly sliced onions and a slight dash of

vinegar. But the sucker punch was the green chilli, super finely cut, that graced each mouthful giving it that vital kick that gets the juices flowing. 

The reptile within was satiated. But then guilt pangs waged a huge battle against contentment. In this ugly scuffle, I felt like I had to chose between a lover and a spouse... not happening. I shut my mental shop, switched off the ever irritating conscience...and burped ... heavenly... We may diet, and diet, but God in his Sweet Heaven just creates these wondrous moments where life is beautiful. Amen to that.