Love, Care, SHARE

Have you tasted some foods which, if you do not share with a particular person, don’t taste the same good ‘self’?
I have tried it many a times. Hot and Sour soup hasn’t tasted the same in last 18 months since Nearly Headless Nick left. There is no fun having Hot and Sour soup without fighting with Nearly Headless Nick over who would get more Shiitake mushrooms.
Ditto about the Greek Pizza. It has never tasted better with Pea-NUT not around. NEVER EVER!
Call it love if you may.
I love my Pea-NUT and Nearly Headless Nick.
Cheers to them!

Mister Master Chef

Attitude, suits some perfectly. One of those people of course is Skeeter (maybe kidding, maybe not). And the other is Gordon Ramsay. I have read, heard and seen so much about this attitude thingy of his, that I thought it would be but unfair not to share it with people who read this blog.
So, the story goes like this:
Gordon, was once asked by a Japanese journalist (a she) how can he “still” call himself a working chef when he ran 11 restros in 4 different countries, and was simultaneously making two TV shows on both sides of the Atlantic?
So, Mister Master pointing to the Armani jacket this journalist was wearing, said: Did you ask the store where you bought your jacket from, if f*****g Giorgio stitched every f*****g button on your f*****g jacket with his own f*****g hand?! Heeee
Point being, Mister Master has invented his dishes and trained all people working under him to follow his exact style and what you get to eat at Ramsay restros is the exact f*****g replica of the dish as it would be if made by Mister Master. 🙂
You can watch the last 3 minutes of this video to see the same incident being narrated by Mister Master himself.

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=RZF5EI_JWj0

I love Attitude, if it has substance. Do you?!

Skeeter and the Fairy Dust

Skeets loves to pamper herself royally, when she has the time.
The last time she did eet, she made herself breakfast comprising a potato-ey, cheesy, grilled toastie. It was accompanied by barbecue flavoured crisps, a sexy Dilito’s Jalapeno sauce and the healthiest drink the world can offer: Coke. 😉
Sat on a couch, with some LOUD music on, and enjoyed this:

Proceeded to make Rajasthani gatte ki kadhi and aloo (no pic). Being in the kitchen (during winters and only by the mood) is therapeutic for Skeeter. And spices, will remain the first love. No giggling there!
And then, after mooning about all day, Skeets took out that precious can of Spaghetti to gobble it down by the sparkling moonlight.

The Classy Glassy: Costa Hot Choc

Hola Boys and Girls!
Finally, I unleash what lies inside the ‘Glassy’ for all those who have been dropping in umpteen questions about Skeety’s love for the Glassy(s).
The term Glassy refers to a glass in which Skeety is served her drinks [soft ones mostly ;)]. The Glassy has, and always will play a quintessential role in Skeety’s drinking rituals.
Here are two random facts about Skeety:
* Skeety can get high on any drink she likes.
* She does not like being disturbed when she is enjoying her drinks and can get really angry if disturbed.
And now the POP = Point of the Post:
Skeety has a reason to rejoice as Costa Coffee has re-opened at Shopprix Mall, Noida (yeah I know this is the first time Noida is featuring on this Delhi blog). And in the Glassy lies Costa Hot Choc.
Man, is she at a loss of words or IS SHE?

Skeety’s poison, Costa Hot Choc (wish she could rename the chain that), is best served with two sachets of brown sugar, a generous dash of chocolate powder, and that, preferably at a moderate temperature as tongue-burning has become a ritual with her at Costa. *Grin*
Oh yeah NOT TO FORGET, it should be in the Classy Glassy (take away cup/mug/glass for you). The drop dead gorgeous colour of the Classy Glassy’s exterior is Skeety’s eye candy.

And then of course there is the rich creamy texture, the light brown-ish colour, the slight nutty taste of the Hot Choc itself. Skeety dies and goes to heaven for the 30-45 minutes long drinking session. Oh Boy!

Coinciding with the re-opening of Costa is Skeety’s newest discovery in Noida, which would make her shut up and stop cribbing about the place: the chaiwala near Skeety’s office. He serves good ealichi tea @Rs.3 a glassy. Pata ni kahan chup ke baitha tha ab tak (Don’t know where was he hiding all this while?!)
Another random fact about Skeety: Tea tops the list of Skeety’s LDOMW: Lovely Drinks of the Muggle World. Costa Hot Choc comes a very, very, very close second.


Mustard Sting…ting ding

It is sarson season in Dilli, and I savoured the first offering of the season only a few days ago. Give me Mustard Greens any time and you won’t hear a ‘no’. I absolutely relish the mix. And I take pride in being mommy’s veggie supplier. She instructs me, and I go out to the market/mandi/Big Apple/Reliance Fresh, wherever time permits, to find her the best and freshest possible produce. For this season’s ‘first buy’, I walked to a rickshaw vendor. He combined bathua, soya, palak and of course sarson and chopped it for me (they do it on request) in his hand-driven chopping machine.


And since I am talking Mustard here, I might as well add about my obsession of using Mustard oil in my cooking. When cooking with Mustard oil, you have to be a little patient else you get that bitter taste in your food which all (barring some nerds) dislike. The Mustard oil, unlike clarified butter and vegetable oil, takes a lot of time to heat up. But, as I have a penchant for elaborate cooking procedures, waiting for it to heat up is no issue for me. The simple ‘stir and serve’ does no good to my creativity as far as the kitchen is concerned. That perhaps ‘may’ explain my prolonged absence from my place near the cooking stove (yes it remains that for me, no matter what fancy names you may want to call it).

Anyway, back to Mustard oil: Many consider it unhealthy, some call it outdated compared to the much celebrated Extra Virgin Olive Oil, yet others make the weirdest face expressions to display their hatred for it. I confess I was one of them too. But then that was ‘Once upon a time’. Now, I propagate its use in the same manner as Sri Sri Ravi Shankar promotes The Art of Living. It does wonders to your hair (heat it and add 4-5 small cubes of camphor after crushing them), to your digestive system and what not. And then, the ones who create a lot of noise over their dislike for Mustard Oil should not forget that ages ago, when there was no Extra Virgin Olive Oil, Vegetable oil and blah, Mustard oil was the sole medium of cooking.
I do the simple stir fry aloo with Mustard oil, which is a personal favourite. It takes about 45-60 minutes to prepare. Then there is the ‘On Special Request’ gobhi aloo dish that is relished by all in the house; of course it is done by me in Mustard oil.
And then to add some zing to the mustard sting is this silly little boy called Brother Bear. He hates the smell of Mustard oil. Every time I cook in it, he comes out of his room shouting curses at me. He even goes to the extent of making some hilariously outrageous statements that the ‘smell’ of Mustard oil causes ‘rashes’ on his body. Now, how absurd and silly can it possibly get?

Adventures at the Moon-lit square

I take one step and stop to look around. To my right (down), is sitting, a paanwala engrossed with filling and wrapping the paan (betel leaf) as per his customer’s order. I look up across the street, there is this famous Indian sweets and savouries shop, Haldiram’s, which is running to a full house. I walk a few more steps. There is this vendor with his small mobile stand, selling moong dal ke gulgule (fritters of an amazing sort) surrounded by customers shouting orders. I take a few steps more and I reach Ghantewala, the much acclaimed sweet shop of Chandni Chowk. Get a few rasmalais from there. White ones. Yes! White! Gol and chapet. That is round and flat ones. I walk down again. Another few steps. Reach Kanwarji‘s. Madhouse this. Mister P loves this shop. He says nothing can beat this place. I keep shut here, as I still haven’t tasted all that Chandni Chowk has to offer. At Kanwarji‘s, I got. Hold Your breath. I got Malpudas, Paneer ki Jalebis, Kachoris with HOT aloo ki subji, Aloo ke lacche (I chose medium spicy ones), and Dal bhuji (maximum spice variety) which might be known to some of you as Dal Moth. I am yet to taste the Malpudas and the Aloo ke Lacche. The rest of everything was good. I am bereft of words more than these.

A winner, however, was this list that my eyes rolled upon. It is a list of Mirza Ghalib’s favourite food. And I found that unke aur humare zayke kaafi mel khate hain.

Chic and Choko la

Tucked away in one of the lanes in the PVR Priya complex, Choko la houses WICKED desserts, toothsome chocolates and commendable breads. On my last visit, I had Tiramisu in a glass and Passion fruit with Mascarpone. Yes I had both. No heee hawwwing now, ok?

And then I found the perfect companion for myself in this tiny little bottle of fiery pepper sauce known to you as Tabasco. I carry it in my purse all the time for I never know when I may need it to make the blande taste sizzle.

Mixed curries

A ‘mix’ in culinary terms signifies a blend of flavours, a blend of spices, and essentially a whole new taste. A new taste, that is derived from an amalgamation of some pre-existing ones. If we remove ‘mixing’ from our culinary diaries, then perhaps, we will have a very sorry culinary world. Blends would go, paving way for the bland.
Picture your pasta sprinkled with salt (oops that again is mixing pasta with the salt) bearing no olive oil or cheese or herbs or vegetables (whatever your regular mix be). Or perhaps pasta bearing only herbs while the other ingredients remain absent.
So, point put forth.
Period.
Now, there is another form of mixing that takes place at À la carte restaurants. Quite different from the kind of mixing mentioned earlier. This one is gross. I, in particular loathe it. The waiters, maybe due to lack of training or sheer frustration, while serving, pour the curries onto your plate in a manner that they get mixed with each other. Thus, you get this horrible mix. No, no, don’t get me wrong. It is still nice, delicious etc. BUT the curries lose their original flavour. The two dishes that you ordered are now one, or for that matter none.
.

Anguish over the table

Okay, and since I am cribbing here, I might as well crib some more. Twice in one day, I had to almost beg waiters to come and take my order. Once, at Costa (C.P.), and the other time at The Chinese (again C.P.). Now can’t they just make sure that the waiters are ‘always there’ for the customers? Maybe there can be one waiter stationed (at a good point) just to make sure that no guest at the restaurant aggravates the already bad spondylitic condition by turning round and round and round and…. Huh.

That’s the way eet ees

Pea-NUT, Blazing boy and Nearly Headless Nick, all get embarrassed when dining out with Skeeter. The reason being that she takes out either the mobile (with the flash on) or the camera and starts clicking the food before eating, after eating and just about anytime she feels like. Now Skeeter makes an innocent face with a pleading expression (I will die if I don’t kinda thingy) and mostly manages to get a “kill you” nod from them to go ahead and shoot. In between, Skeeter also gets “stop-it” stares from them. And does she love it? She does and doesn’t. Loves it because she knows that she can have liberties with them around; doesn’t love it because the pictures don’t come out nice as they keep making her feel so conscious and guilty all the time. Period.
Today, I tell you about the much-awaited visit to Side Wok @ Khan Market. Now what attracted me to this place was the location apart from the so many reviews. The galli in which it is situated, is a sleepy, lazy one. So much so that I can almost hear it yawning. And for some reason I just love to walk down that place for the heck of it. This time, I walked up, up the stairs I mean. Attractive entrance that. The ambience was a welcome change from the regulars.
The food was decent. I absolutely loved my non-alcoholic Pink Mojito. They did a good job on that. The start with the Sushi platter (vegetarian o’course) was a disaster, no matter how lovely it seemed to the eyes. A birdie tells me that Side Wok is not ‘the’ place to try Sushi for the fist time. Point taken. Next came the Phad Thai noodles and the Stir Fried Chinese Greens with Roasted Garlic. Phad Thai noodles were regular but nice. I can go back for them. The stir fry was quite authentic and delicious.
Main course done, since we were in an indulgent mood, we ordered a dessert each. I ordered Crispy Nutty Rolls with Vanilla ice cream and Pea-NUT ordered a Chocolate Mousse. The Crispy Nutty Rolls with Vanilla ice cream were too greasy and spoilt the flavour. This dessert was not treated subtly and hence the result was bad. The Chocolate Mousse was okay.
The waiters are talented. Very. They are adept at playing hide and seek, hence resulting in customers being anguished over fetching them to take the order. Well, even if that is not done on purpose, the management should assure that a waiter is visible from every damn seat.
I have a second visit lined up to this place, because I couldn’t have enough of it the first time. Besides, the menu is dotted with dishes from Burma, Thailand, China, Indonesia, Philippines, Japan, Malaysia, Vietnam, Singapore. They could well get the South-East Asian Cafe (the theme which they had in mind while designing the menu and the place) status, if they pay some attention to the quality and authenticity.
Ah yes, you can view the Side-walk from Side Wok.

Top of the city

If I visit a certain restaurant the second time, the first visit ought to have been excellent. So, is the case with most people, I believe. The third visit is what judges the credibility of the eatery in question.

My second visit to Le Cafe (Fashion Designer Ravi Bajaj’s rooftop cafe at GK-I N-block) after a superb first one (few month’s back) was ummmmm… disappointing.
With the Ogre-sized hole that the bill left in my pocket, I did not expect to be served a cold grilled sandwich in the least!

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Enter, Ravi Bajaj’s. Head, for the lift. The smell of the Mandarin oil (burnt in the oil-burner) makes you feel happy and relaxed.

Enter, the lift. Exit, the lift.Enter Le, Cafe. What a place! What a place! Ambience perfect. Just where one would love to unwind on a hot sticky sunny afternoon. Arrive, the Menu. It says: Spring 2007. They claim: to change it by the season. One can choose from: Soups, Light meals, Salads, Sandwiches, Pastas, Omlettes and Scrambles, Le Cafe specials and beverages. I chose: Capres – A grilled sandwich with tomato, mozzarella, olive oil and basil served with your choice of bread. Ordered: Capres with Ciabbata bread and Iced Tea for a drink. Settled, in the oh-so-dreamy ambience. The meal arrives on time. Impressed, not for long. One bite, and I know why it came so quick. They did not care to let the griller be on for long; saving electricity perhaps. They love their mozzarella, not melted and stringy (slurp), but ugly, fat and rubbery! Huh! Did not expect that of a place which Ritu Dalmia had helped set up. Then came walking to me, sitting in a brown jacket, held by a waiter, the bill. The big FAT bill. And along with that, a comment sheet. Ah! Grabbed it and penned down my displeasure. Got up, to exit. The manager or someone stopped me, saying Ma’am I am really sorry. Next time, this happens, you MUST return the meal straightaway. Now, now now! Which hungry person would like to wait another 10 minutes for the meal to be re-heated and stuff of that sort?! Hence, I had eaten. Otherwise also, I do not like to return my meals, howsoever badly they are cooked (only at restaurants or cafes 😉 ). Politely turned to the the man with that smug of a smile and said, ‘I do not visit restaurants for that. Thank You.’ Embarrassed, he said the ‘sorry’ word again.Now the big question: Will I ever go there again? Perhaps another time, yes. Only for the ambience though, and quite expecting what to get for food.