Bloody Mary.. How vegetarian

This is a little small insert I wanted to add like a funny bookmark in my blog. This Saturday night we had a group of jain guest coming to the restaurant. They were strict jain .. No onion no garlic in their food but were quite liberal to enjoy alcohol. They had ordered for bloody Mary with their waiter. The waiter started punching the order. I stood past him to check whether he was entering the right items in the point of sale ... It means the computer through which orders are entered into the system. As he entered 3 bloody mary s I immediately asked him. That's vegetarian right... The server looked at me and then in the POS to confirm what menu item he was entering. Then he again looked at me and now very confident said, "Yes."

“OK" I bellowed as I walked past him since I never wanted to disturb his integrity. However while having lunch I did ask him the ingredients for making a bloody Mary.
He started listing... "Vodka, tomato juice, tobasco sauce, celery salt, pepper, W sauce.
I listened patiently nodding for every ingredient he told me. Then I asked him "what's W sauce?"

He perched his lips gesturing he doesn't know. I brought a bottle of Lea and Perrins close to him and made him read the ingredients which read fish, barley and gluten. He jumped out of his chair. He shook his head vigorously and opened his eyes wide to check it again. He read and then read it again. Worcestershire sauce also known as W sauce which is an ingredient for the bloody Mary cocktail is made with fish. So all my vegetarian friends please ask for it without the W sauce.
I noticed him getting really sad. When I asked him what happened he told me even he is pundit and doesn't eat non vegetarian strictly. But has been drinking Bloody Mary since last two years enormously !!!

 

 

From the treasures of Piedmont : Gavi

 

Piedmont as famous it is for its red wines so is it equally renowned for the zesty and flinty whites produced here. Talking about white wine have you heard about Gavi. I had read a label Gavi di Gavi and on the other hand also known about the Gavi. The names are same and so are the wines then why the difference in names. Well, I thought why not to research about this interesting wine. Gavi, The wine originates in the Alessandria province of Piedmont. It is a wine made from the Cortese. It is a dry white wine and delicately fruity. It is called as Cortese di Gavi, Gavi di Gavi or just Gavi. So what's the difference between these types? Is there any? There isn’t any relevant difference apart from the fact that the Gavi di Gavi is produced in the estates located in the township of Gavi. The best terroir in the region is considered to be a hill located in Rovereto. But the other areas also produce interesting versions of wines. According to me there are two different types of Gavi in the market. A definite reason for this is the fact that some vineyards have calcareous soil and some have clayey soil. The former produces wines which are dry, flinty and fresh. However the later produces a wine which is more structured round bodied and has a hit of extra fruitiness to it. Thus the wine is ideally one of the most versatile wines as it can accompany most of the food preparations.

Alessandria, the province was also known as Oltregiogo Ligure which meant Liguria beyond the pass. This place was where the Genovese nobility would build up their summer houses. The first mention of cultivating vineyard in this region dates back to 1072 when the Bishop of Geneva rented chestnut stands and vineyards in the town of Mereina, which is now called Broglia and is home to two variants of Gavi. The grape Cortese is the white analogy to Nebbiolo. The mention of this grape dates as back as 1659. Even Louis Oudart was impressed with this grape and experimented making frizzante and spumante versions of it. This has been authorised under the DOC laws. In 1876 Marquis Cambiaso began the cultivation of cortese grape in the vineyards of La Cintriana and Toledana estates. Observing this the neighbouring estate owners also began incorporating it into their vineyards replacing other grapes. The grape flourished this way catering to the growing demand from Liguria. Slowly, the wine started gaining International limelight.

In 1974 the Gavi DOC was established. There were many merchants who still wanted to overlook this rules and still dominate the market condition. They continued to bottle the wine outside the region designated. Thus what happened as Cortese flourished was a miserable part of wine history. No responsibility was taken towards making quality wines. All emphasis was laid on producing quantities of it to cater to hankering market. The wine was still travelling out of the region to be bottled which was against the DOC’s laws as it led to the highest opportunity to doctor the wine. There was a focus on making light, simple and characterless wines to fetch big fat profits which the name of the wine brought to them. As times changed, the practice of selling the wine or grapes to the merchants was stopped. Individual wineries sprung up which bottled their wines. The mediator was thrown out and now the producers reaped the profit directly. By 1998, the establishment of Gavi DOCG took place. This marked as a full stop for all the malpractices. It brought the area under a strict quality control. The regulations specified very clearly that none of the Gavi will move out of the designated region to be fermented or bottled. Also the idea of using Chardonnay as a blend was scrapped off completely. It was 100% Cortese wine. It also regulated the harvest. The rule clarified that 1 hectare of vineyard can only produce 95 quintal of grapes. A 70% maximum yield of the grapes would generate 66.5 hectolitres or 884 bottles of 750 ml. That was the best optimum production. This also increased the demand of the wine in the market and as the supply got limited, the price of the wine also shot up.The fermentation of the wine takes place in steel. Some producers use oak or expose the wine to barriques for a while after the fermentation to achieve a faint note of wood in the wine. The alcohol content of wine had to be 10.5% which made it spritzy. There are also versions with 12% alcohol in them.  
             The Gavi is ready in the markets very early that is by the end of the spring which follows the winter harvest. The producers are away that the wine improves if you bottle it a little late it acquires a better structure and complexity. It also benefits with a bouquet of floral notes. But due to the demands of the restaurateur, local and international consumers it is launched that early. Why such a huge demand for this wine? Gavi has a pale golden colour with a green hue. The nose of the wine is full of distinct aromas with a persistent floral aroma of lily, fragrances of citrus fruits and green apples. It is dry, fruity, fresh and well balanced. The wine ages well. The ideal time to consume the wine would be after three year of vintage.  It is a very versatile wine. It clearly scrapes off the belief that white wine was born with fish. Yes, it does complement exceptionally well with fish. No doubt. But it complements Ligurian cuisine which involves ravioli of vegetables and cheese, salads, different types of cheese, pesto sauce preparations, omelettes and even frittata. Gavi also serves as a great aperitif. The slightly round and fuller ones play a perfect match with various styles of white meat preparation.

A perfect wine for a neophyte. It is an easy going, enjoyable, all time wine. Gavi would be a great company in a shack overlooking an ocean with some fish and salad on your plate. Wine pairing should not be limited with food; it should be also the place where it should be ideally drunk...no relished. It’s not beer.

 

Cheers!!!

Anaddict

From the treasures of Piedmont: Barolo

From the treasures of Piedmont

 

My friends read the blog and most of them insisted over the same thing, "you should bring in articles about wine” all in unison. For them I am an encyclopedia of wines. But honestly I don’t consider myself of that caliber. On a scale of ten I would mark myself at some odd 5.5-6 only. It can be below it but definitely not above it. I believe there is lot more to explore and learn about. So yes, French wines are conventional, historic and immortal. But I want to turn your gaze to another country which is from the same subcontinent and it is Italy. If I start from northern part of the country, I would land first in Piedmont. The Alpine region characterized with mountainous terrain, calcareous marl soils excellent for grapes like Nebbiolo and Dolcetto. The river of Po divided this region into two parts one would be south of Po river and the south east of the city Turin where the town of Alba, hills of Monferrato and Langhe are located. This area accounts for the most of the wine production in Piedmont. There are many DOC (that means Denominazione de Origine Controllata) overlapping each other. The famous DOCGs (that means Denominazione de Origine Controllata Garantita) Barolo and Barberesco come from the zone located to the north of the river Po. This article is about one of the oldest wine called Barolo. “The Burgundy of Italy”, as it is called. The wine Barolo is called the king of wines and the wine for kings.

Barolo, a region with beautiful chilly climate located on a higher elevation. It is at 50m higher altitude than Barberesco. If global warming seems to benefit someone it’s our grape used in Barolo wine. The increased temperatures of summer followed by the mild autumn helps a misty fog to settle. This is a true blessing for the Nebbiolo which derives its name from the word Nebbia which means fog.This helps the grape to retain the optimum sugar levels. This is a late ripening variety so the harvesting happened usually in early or mid October when a lot of grapes have ripened and there is higher yield. However the modernist approach emphasizes on late September harvest when there is less yield. I know most of us will think the difference between both periods is very miniscule but honestly if you intend to make a word class wine, precision in small factors is irreplaceable.

There is a classic process in which Barolo wine is made from the Nebbiolo grape. This process was perfected by French enologist Louis Oudart. The then Mayor Grinzane Cavour invited Oudart to Barolo to improve the winemaking techniques of the local producers. “It’s not the language French but Winemaking to be learnt the best from the Frenchmen.”  It begins with harvesting followed with the stalking and then pressing. Once the grapes are pressed, the juice is allowed to macerate with skin for almost two months. Such long contact with the skin makes the tannins found in the skin seep into large amounts in the wine. It also incorporates an intense color and juiciness. After this the wine is aged in large oak or chestnut barrels called botti. It has to be minimally aged for two years in barrels. But the wine has to age for almost a decade to mellow down its tannins and build a balance. The idea was that the wine should not be drinkable when it is bottled. The conventional process followed the conventional ideology, “Women and wine get better as they age.” However, some producers wondered that how could they sell a wine which could not be drunk when purchased but after a decade. Second thought was that before the tannin mellowed down the wine would loose the character of fruit in it.

In 1970s and 1980s began the Barolo wars. Yeah! Italians are a little bit like Indians. They fight less with other countries and more within themselves. This was a result of the newly acquired modernists approach to Barolo vinification. The process intended to reduce the tannins in the wine by limiting the period of contact between the pulp and the skins to eight to ten days or a maximum to two weeks. The color and juiciness were left intact with help of improved equipments and techniques. Rotary fermenting machines were brought into use to soften the wine. Also the bottis were replaced with barriques, French oak barrels which were smaller in size. The wine was also aged for the minimum time permitted by wine laws i.e a minimum of three years out of which two years were in cask. The fruity wine produced allowed early drinking in its youth.  The tannins firmly balanced the fruit in the wine making it an excellent wine. The traditional vintners fired back saying that the wine made with such hasty approach of producing masses lacked the structure, powerful tannin and the heady perfume and smelled like a French Oak. Barolo is always accredited as an intellectual wine by vintners, connoisseur and wine merchants. “The modernists Barolo lacked the intellectuality”, the traditionalists put forth as an argument. Barolo collectors, by the way, are almost always men. Why, I don’t know. Maybe wines with firm tannins are a measure of masculinity.

But from History till date change has always been not accepted, opposed to then ridiculed at and later accepted. History repeats this joke with human kind every time still we don’t change. I wonder how History will be laughing uncontrollably. It will be like, “come on this has happened with Galileo, Columbus, Issac Newton, Leonardo Da vinci, Mark Zuckerburg, Google brothers, Operah Winfrey… Grow up.”

 

So how is Barolo, the wine actually? Well like all Nebbiolo wines, even Barolo lacks the opacity of color. It has a clear red garnet color which turns to rust color as it ages further. The wine has heady perfume, scent of violets, prunes, chocolate, a little smoky and tobacco. All are bold scents in delicate hints. The wine is full in your mouth, velvety, round finish and mouth filling. The flavors are as I said bold and long lasting on taste buds. Firm acidity from tannins balances the juiciness exactly. Both styles of vinification exhibit the similar traits.

The wine is ideal to be paired with protein rich food. The tannins of the wine are cut down by the rich proteins in food like pasta with heavy sauces or rich risottos. This is ideal with meat and pairs well with even steamed vegetables as they have a good proportion of proteins in them. The wine exhibits a great complexity and structure. This is not an option for novice wine admirers. It’s not an easy drinking like Beaujolais Nouveau. It’s for little matured taste buds.

 

Cheers!!!

Anaddict

Nostalgic moments3: Zigzag flight of stairs

I think the early incidents that I wrote to you were very light hearted and funny. Well if you think i want to do the breakthrough with this one being really serious, it is very essential for you to know that I am going to disappoint you very deeply. In a casual discussion, my friend Onkar told me a true fact, “it’s very easy to write a tragedy but difficult to make others laugh. For example it’s so easy to build a castle of cards and make it fall but how do you make someone laugh over it.” True, there is already so much resentment, guilt and all such miserable things in our life. I don’t want to add to it. This is the story of my foolishness, stupidity or eagerness. I don’t know what? You judge. I was at the Taj Mahal Palace and Towers, Mumbai. I forgot to mention, I was an Assistant Room Dining manager. This is somewhere in July 2009. A huge delegation was visiting India with some Middle Eastern foreign minister. For long I was in the night shift. The roaster was put up and I had to break off from my slumber shift. There was a list of some amenities to be placed into the rooms. Amenities are products either from the vanity pouch, flower arrangement, wines or eatables like chocolates, sweets, savoury which go into the rooms of such VVIP delegation free, free!! (Complimentary with the stay)!! My job was to supervise the placement of the amenities. I loved this job of roaming on the guest floors like a vagabond with a master key in my hand. Barging into rooms and checking whether the amenities are placed as per standard. If ok, then tick so on the list I had. If not then make notes and call the floor waiter and tell him or her. I consumed lots of time doing ABDF, acting busy doing fuck all. But my job used to be always perfect.

It was about 4 pm in the evening and I was on the 17^th floor of the building finishing with my job for the day and preparing the handover for the evening shift. I suddenly got a call on the phone saying there were three more rooms added to the list 1618, 1714 and 1718. I had sent the staff back to the pantry for wrapping up. I thought I would finish the work myself. It’s hardly any task, 1714 is right next to the pantry where I was, next I will run to 1718 the last on the floor next to the fire exit II. Then run down one floor through the exit I would reach 1618.  I turned to my list. One of my boys had already marked this room as placed. Ok.. super cool, I had to just move my ass up there and check whether the arrangement is fine.

I finished with both the rooms on the 17^th floor and opened the fire exit II to step in. I had never used this exit before for the last three months. It was different from the other exit. It was hot and no windows were open. The door closed behind me and the sound of the thud echoed. I got scared and try immediately to open it pressing the shaft. It didn’t open. I thought, “May be this is the last floor so the door doesn’t open back to the guest area. Let’s try the one below it. I ran down unaware of the tragedy I was getting into. I pushed the 16^th floor’s exit shaft. This one was also jammed, it refrained from opening. I checked my mobiles for network. I carried two then, one would be the company and other my personal one. None of them showed any network coverage. I stood there knocking softly over the door, thinking someone from In room dining, Housekeeping or Front office would act like my rescue team. I wasted around 15 to 20 minutes waiting for the holy angel through the square of glass in that sturdy metal door but none arrived. I looked at my watch, 4: 30 pm. This is the most wrong time to get stuck here. The morning and evening shift will be in briefing, then exchanging handovers and later chai time. So there won’t be any good luck till next 45 minutes. Just then enlightenment struck me, “ Asmi.. tere lag gaye !!” in other words “Girl, you are screwed for bad.” I looked down and saw the never ending zigzag of the flight of stairs. “Bungee jumping, want to try.” I am an optimist, this is India, and at least one door would open. You know six sigma; at least one door would be faulty and will open.” I began to descend lightly jogging. What I forgot was that I am in my Raymond suit and was in a stuffy air tight exit.  I enjoyed the first few floors but then I was getting impatient. I tried each door on every floor. But to my dismay none bothered to open. On the 8^th floor, I took a break catching some air. I was sweating profusely and wanted water real badly. I saw some movement through the glass of the door. It was housekeeping guy, carrying some nicely laundered soft white towels, folded on his left hand. I started banging the door really hard. It was like three or four bangs that the guy was turning his gaze that the door in front of him opened and he got busy there. The door in front of which he stood closed and I gathered my fist to knock the door again that the door in front of the exit opened. I was invisible to him now as a couple stepped out of the room kissing each other and getting really wild. I moved out of their visibility and thought,” Should I bang the door, they can help me. But if I banged and disturbed them in their banging session, God knows for what reason will they throw me out of the organisation.” I moved away because the couple didn’t seem to stop somewhere. I pulled off my jacket now, opened my shirt’s buttons till the second, untied my hair from the bun and tied a pony. I convinced myself to run down for the next eight floors. It would be hardly any time. I checked my watch; it was 5:15 pm. What???  I thought I was fast. OK... Come on I geared myself for the final run. As I ran down I saw a glass door on the second floor. It was a glass door but not transparent. It was opaque. I stuck my ear to it; I could hear faint sound of conversations happening. By now I had started talking to myself loudly, so it echoed and I felt there was company to me. I said to myself, “Two more floors and you will walk out into fresh air, Why to knock on this door and create a mockery of self in public.”

I reached the ground floor and the exit door stood right in front of me. I rushed to the transparent glass square of the door and saw people outside. All I yearned for was water and air. My hand gripped around the round knob of the door and I was about to turn it round that my gaze fell over this board placed at eye level with ATTENTION, the word embossed in red. I was stunned as if I had seen a ghost in daylight. I moved back and read it. I don’t remember the instructions vividly. But yes it read somewhat like this

1. This door is to be opened only in case of fire or any hazardous emergency.

 

2. As the door opens, a buzzer alarm will ring throughout the hotel in all public areas for immediate evacuation

 

3.  Any employee if opens this door in any other situation will be liable to suspension and legal action.

A jackpot slot machine stood in front of me. There were three slots, one showed brown bread, second displayed Amul butter packet and third showed kingfisher beer. Then the door opened and lever went down again on its own. “TING” went the sound and all three slots went void with question marks in it. I was hallucinating. My watch showed me 5: 45 pm on its dial.

If there is no exit from this place, why is it called exit? My first thought. I stood there as if struck by a high voltage electric bolt.

When god closes one door, he opens another. I started wondering which my other option is. The glass door on the second floor. I gulped down the lump in my throat and went back to the second floor, stood in front of the door. I knocked on the door, but it seemed that people inside couldn’t hear it. I wasn’t audible. I sat down on the stairs completely frustrated, irritated, suffocated, tired and all such miserable emotions. The mystery was there were two glass doors, one behind the other which made it look opaque and my knocks inaudible. I got up again and this time knocked desperately. I don’t know it was my knock or the prayer that got answered. There was a voice of a lady from the other side. “Who are you?” I yelled on top of my voice with excitement. “I am the Assistant Manager of IRD. I have been caught in this exit for last one and half hour. Please open the door”

I can’t open the door, we don’t have key after 26/11. Besides there’s a door on the ground floor

“You fucking bitch, do you think I am an idiot to leave that untried.” I said to myself in light whispers. You know the quote; stay quiet when you are in shit. I was in deep shit and she was my only hope.

I got into the most polite and dainty tone I could get and explained to her, “Mam, if I open that door, there will be an alarm buzzing in all areas including your and my office for evacuation. I might get suspended. Please I request to help me, I had got stuck on the 17^th floor and it’s been pretty long time. I am suffocating.”

“I will check with my manager. Hold On. What is your name by the way? Can I have your ID card?”

Asmita Kabre ( The moron ), I yelped as I pulled my ID card out of the jacket and slipped it to the other side through the gap between the carpet and bottom of the door.

I settled on the floor, my hands folded, hair withered, clothes drenched in sweat as if I went to some rain dance. I heard a bunch of keys nearing to me. One went in after the other. It was the ninth key that worked. Well that’s my lucky number and it got proved that day. The door opened and a decent number of people stood in front of me looking at me. It was as though they were watching a circus stunt. I pulled my jacket over, did my buttons. I looked at the lady who helped me, thanked her. I was so embarrassed that I quickly demanded her for my ID card. I didn’t even wait for the office boy to get me water. I requested for the direction to the lobby. An old gentleman raised his arm to point towards the door. I rushed out of the door and bursted out laughing at my embarrassment. I reached my department and my senior manager looked at my condition and asked me, “Did you go for a jog and hey why were you unreachable for the last two hours.” I bent down on my knees next to his chair and asked him to pass me the water bottle. I drank water as if I was just out of a desert. I had not finished the first bottle that I pointed him to pass me another. “What happened?” he was anxious. I reconstructed the entire incident for him and rest of the team and they laughed uncontrollably. He even shared an old incident where one of the staff doing a 10 pm to 7 am shift had got stuck into the exit at 1: 30 am. He didn’t even have SATS office option like me. He was discovered around 4:30 am through the CCTV footage. He went off to sleep. “What?” I exclaimed. “How can someone even think of sleeping in that petrifying zone?” Well everyone had a good time pulling my leg. I almost repeated the same incident to fifteen different people. Everyone approached laughing and asking, “Kya hua?” (What happened?) Asshole if you don’t know what happened, then why are you laughing. Everyone wanted to listen to the animated version of it and then say,” You are such a clown.” 

 

Human nature, “Your misery is a joke for everyone apart from you.”

 

I was moving out of the pantry that a lady colleague of mine stepped closer to me and said. “I guess you dropped your left earring somewhere?”

“Oh yeah?” I sensed it as I touched my earlobe.

Her face developed a wicked curve as she said, “Should be in that fire exit II. Want to go and search?”

I smiled back at her and said, “No never again.”

“Never say Never”, my boss replied as he walked past our discussion.

 

It didn’t happen again. In the meanwhile my colleague had gone ahead and checked those rooms, they were affirmative, I mean ready. This is my acquired nightmare. I dream to be in the same place many a times running endlessly the “Zigzag flight of stairs”

 

 

Nostalgic moments Part -2 The Slumdog

“You fucking Slumdog!!!” I heard the brawl begin, right in front of my eyes. The bottle of Finlandia vodka almost slipped out of my grip What happened I thought, everything was well a while before. December 2008, an Indian model turned actor had achieved fame from his movie about a Rock Band.  Well, the movie had been one of the best of the year and the new recognition made it a little difficult to digest insult of this order, that too in public. So what really happened? A sunset at Taj holiday village on the day of Christmas Eve. The sun soaked into the oceanic waves wearing its brightest robe with shades of warm colours like vermillion, magenta and indigo. A pinkish haze spread over the sea. Half of this radiant loom reflected over the sea. The breeze was adequate and it ruffled the palms that lined up the beach. the soft rays of the reflected vibrancy beamed at me and shone my face with orange tinge. I was making one of my most favorite cocktail. The Goan sun. Coconut water mixed with vodka with a shot of cointreau into it. I had been watching throwing infrequent glances at the group of men playing cricket. Stood amongst them with a Kashmiri willow bat in his hand was our hero. He had developed Latin American  tan, celebrity bronze i would call it. His body had an attractive built chiselled like a masculine stone sculpture and looked benevolent as the rays of light pierced through the gaps of his manly curves. His face was getting covered with his wavy streaks now and then. he looked like a warrior knight as he ran between the wickets. Valour and power of the body exhibited equally with his shouts. You know men, they make more noise than playing the actual game. The air was filled with enthusiasm and adrenaline as they would shout in unison over a dropped catch or a perfect hit by the batsman and the chaos created when they ran between wickets or the run out throws and overthrows. Simultaneously on the other hand on a nearby bench a couple sat with their toddler. The gentleman looked like a geek, I knew him. An engineer in the silicon valley he was a very polite well behaved Irish man and carried himself with poise. His wife was an Asian, and the kid was a complete confusion of ethnicity. Never mind, cute kid they called him Ponty. Ponty loved the pool, hence the couple used to spend hours at the bar. I befriended them there. The shout rose again and Mr. Hero had hit a boundary, the ball smashed hard on the bench where the family was seated. There was apologies shouted and our star raised his hand up and waved. The act which could spark an argument was excused in the spirit of boyish sportsmanship. All Ok!! Game continued. The ball went twice to the same place. Now, the lady was a little anxious. This time our hero walked to the bench. He picked the ball himself and before the irish man could express his resentment, Mr. Hero asked him to move to other bench. It was less a request and more of an order.

“First they ignore you, then they ridicule you, then they fight you, and then you win.”
― Mahatma Gandhi

The Irish man sparked back at him asking, “With what authority you talk to me this way? Who are you?” Mr. Hero got into a rough tone and asked him with a sarcastic smile, “you don’t know me?” He turned back at his pack and yelled in a joking manner.” He says he doesn’t know me. Everyone had sensed tension rising between them with their body language now exhibiting the traits of two African lions waiting to pounce over each other “He turned back at him, “You don’t read newspaper when you are in India, I guess? Go and Google me” Now he had developed a wicked smirk on his face as he spoke. The Irish man inclined a little forward as he could stare straight into the model’s eyes and said,” Why are you a wanted fugitive on the run? Don’t get google into this. I develop such systems every day. We Americans create these technologies and million slum dogs like you host and boast about yourself on it.  You want me search you on it. Get out of my sight, you fucking slum dog!!! That was it, he had pulled the wrong strong and it was plucked. The pack was now nearing towards them. It was good old ten more guys walking towards him. the actor glanced back at his pack and was assured of his support. He dropped the bat and with both his fists caught the caught the collar of the Irish guest and pulled it towards him. He lashed out a few abuses with a vicious look. However, he didn’t notice the tight closed fists rising to his face. He got punched like a punching back in his face, stomach, chest and his lip busted bleeding. He stumbled and was on the ground as the irish man hit him with kicks. His friends reached and stopped the kickboxer. They were separated and held back. Mr. Hero got up on his feet and signalled his friends to leave the both of them. He looked around and found the crowd staring at this complete mismatch of wit. Even I found that my knight was getting beaten by monk. He bend again and picked up the bat. The irish shaked off the grips of various hands which held him back. The security guards were closing by and yelling warnings at them. Mr. Hero wacked him once with the bat on his calf muscles. That struck hard like a lash to him. He started running away as our hero was armed. Then I saw the most hilarious sight of life. The Irish man was running for his life towards the golf course. Behind him ran our hero with the bat. He had got into a complete Hindi movie mood. The stereotype kind where the hero rises soaked in blood stains after several bullets and injuries and kills the villain. And behind them ran the pack of his friends to stop the assault. That wasn’t enough that the squad of securities ran behind them blowing a whistle. More than fifteen men running after a stupid reason. The Irish ran till the golf course and  turned back as there was no other way. The smart villain saw the security and his friends coming towards them. He wasted sometime engaging him into a game of kabaddi like kids. From there he ran back to the bench.  In the middle way, the security guards caught the actor and snatched the bat out of his hand. The couple was asked to move away from the sight. they did obey the security guards. As he walked away he turned and showed a third finger to Mr. Hero. He was infuriated again and spurted out abuses. He moved like a wild horse just trapped pulling himself out of the hands of his pack. But this time he was not too fortunate as they outnumbered his strength completely and he hardly could struggle.

“In a way fighting was just like using magic. You said the words, and they altered the universe. By merely speaking you could create damage and pain, cause tears to fall, drive people away, make yourself feel better, make your life worse.”
― Lev Grossman, The Magicians

 

Nostalgic moments Part 1- Private and confidential



The sunset deck at sunset

 



The pool bar-thatched roof thing on right

 As we step into the festive season of the year, I look back at the most happening moments of my career so far. The busiest season, hotels are flooding with occupancy, restaurants running busy with the loud chatter of guest accompanied with the clatter of the glistening silver (I mean cutlery). As the service door opens from the kitchen to the restaurant there is an aromatic whiff of the food mixed with loud hissing of gas burners and equally vibrant communication of the chef and his cooks. Lively... These sounds keep on resonating in my mind. I have started feeling nostalgic. Talking about nostalgia, I would like to share some interesting incidents I had witnessed. There are many to go ranting about. If I pile these up I can really write another Bible of hospitality or a Just for Laughs series.  We hoteliers get to see so much which neither the press can report nor the paparazzi can capture. Let me take you back to Taj Holiday Village or THV as we called it. This property is Taj’s own hamlet in Goa spread over sprawling 39 acres. Running parallel with the beautiful ocean with open skies and the coconut trees everywhere, you never know when a coconut drops down and the guest would pick it up, get it to be cracked open. There are beautiful sea facing or garden villas divided into luxurious and eloquent rooms. There are restaurants which serve Thai, Goan and Caravela the all day diner with drift bar within it. Caravela is like a boat and right above the beach. People love this place for dinners but believe me having breakfast out here is beyond luxury. It is serenity I would say. There is another bar which is the Pool Bar, a bar sunken in the pool, such that you can swim through the pool and reach the counter and sip on your drink sitting on the bar stool in the pool. Sounds mesmerizing, I have lived it. I used to hang around here throughout the day. My shift... huh!! BLD... Allow me to elaborate, it means breakfast lunch and dinner. Breakfast at Caravela then the pool bar till the evening and then till midnight at Drift Bar. The hotel had a nine hole golf course, also called the moon deck. This was the venue for most extravagant events. Then around 800 metres from it was the sunset deck adjoining Caravela. The sunset ideally looked the best from here. This was the ideal spot for Villa dinner which was private dining concept for the elites only. I have served various VVIPs, celebrities, politicians and who’s who out here. When you are in this profession, the truth of such people lies open in front of you. But, yes all their information and affairs are private and confidential. We never intended to encroach it.

Private and Confidential

It was past 10:00 pm and Drift was operating at a slow pace, ideally because it was a weekday. Even the restaurant had a few guests scattered around. I turned my gaze to the ocean. The moon was at the horizon on a date with the pitch black ocean which looked like a sheet of velvet as it moved with every wave crashing in its arms. The reflection of the moon in the water looked like a fragile bridge tapering towards the moon such that I could walk on it and reach there. The bridge danced a slow waltz with the ocean with the sound of waves as the only beat. In my bar on the LED, played a football match which hardly interested me as it was a repeat telecast. I had drowned into the vivacious beauty of the night. My feet turned towards the deck as I heard a couple conversing at some distance. The sight of the ocean was so addictive, that I hardly noticed the guests approaching me. ” Two Mojito” .Now the person in front of me turned his pitch a little high repeated, “Two Mojito please “. My fluid dream was broken. I looked up at him clearing the thoughts out of my over dramatic mind and answered, “Very well sir”. The gentleman was in loose white pyjamas with a black T-shirt. He had an athletic built with fair complexion, his hair gelled well and held back with a few streak dropping over his forehead.  He looked in mid thirties. He raised his eyebrow as his pointed with his eyeballs towards the card he held between the grip of two finger tips. I pulled it out delicately looking at the lady besides him. She was like a mermaid out of the ocean with the clearest skin now tanned with the Goan sun. Her beautiful curls were let open and amber eyes shone mystically. Her body was voluptuous as if sculpted by Venus and draped with a peacock blue colour gown. As I swiped the AMEX card, I read the name Rajan Khanna. I politely asked him, “Sir, would that be all or may I keep the card as a tab for further orders.” They both were busy in their conversation and he waved his hand at me indicating to keep it with me. It looked as if he hardly wanted to be disturbed. As I was making the mojito, I overheard some conversations about a college in Delhi, the campus talks, the festivals and the affairs then and their current fate. It was pretty evident that they probably went to same graduation school and probably shared the chemistry since then. Everything was so perfect about the couple. Even the way they romanticized. There were two more rounds of Mojito and both of them induced too much affection towards each other (You know what I mean). He could barely take his hands off her and the casual hugs and kisses or holding hands were getting really intoxicating and sensuous.

The drift bar and lounge

 Just then, Mr. Khanna called for another round of mojito and requested me to open the gate to the beach. I was equally fine with their idea of going on the beach to evolve their love further but not my Tom Collin glasses along with them. I requested him to carry the drinks in takeaway glasses. He started promising that he will get the glasses back without any hassle and left his credit card back for assurance. I agreed also because of the fact that he was too convincing to be refused to. So I opened the gate and the gentleman and his damsel walk down carefully. As I latched back the gate, I asked him for his room number. He yelled from the beach, “its 1106 and thank you”. I gave him a smile and walked back thinking to myself that even I should have one of such platonic love stories. So many years after going around also they had so much to share. Wow... what a lovable couple...Picture perfect. I checked my watch. It was almost 11: 15 then. I had some excise books to be completed. I went to the bar, pulled out an open bottle of coke, poured it into a glass full of ice and sat on the bar stool. I opened the heavy register and started making entries.

The sea facing villas

The restaurant was completely vacant by 11:35pm, I noticed. Just then I saw a lady stepping into the restaurant. She had a mixed expression of confusion and anxiety on her face. She walked straight towards the bar. I stepped off the stool and smiled at her as I walked towards her in anticipation. I asked her,” Good evening madam, may I assist you with something?”. She scanned the bar with her searching gaze. Then she turned towards me and said,” Hi, I was in the shower and my husband told me he is heading to the bar to have a drink. I have checked the other two restaurants but I didn’t find him. Is there a bar apart from this one also?” I saw the pearls of sweat developing over her forehead and now rolling down as she spoke. I offered her to sit on one of the sofa. I offered her a glass of water and asked her if she could dial her husband on his mobile. She embarrassingly replied,” I was in a hurry to get out of the room; I forgot the key card and my mobile inside the room”. I advised her not to worry as I could get her key card made immediately. I was about to dial the reception for the same that I asked her, Mam could you please help me with your room number. Wrapping her arms delicately in her Pashmina shawl she said,” 1106”. I put the receiver down and requested her for her husband’s name to which she replied Rajan Khanna. I was so excited that I said, “Bingo, I know where Mr. Khanna is “. My hand already raised in direction of the beach. She was very happy and asked me like a young kid, “You know?”

Stupid, Idiot, You are an ass, you have screwed up, I thought to myself. I was stumped for a fraction of second but quickly gathered my senses. I folded the hand down and said,” Mr. Khanna was here a while before, He just walked back to the room. I think probably he is also searching you. I fixed my expressions as I dialled up to the reception and requested for a duplicate key card. Then I looked at her again. Her state of mind and her hair were in complete despair. I approached her again and asked, “Mrs. Khanna if you allow me to have his number, I will dial up from the landline and let him know you are here. She agreed and I took down the number. While moving away from her table I checked whether she would appreciate a crisp glass of Oxford Landing Sauvignon Blanc to relax herself. She agreed for one. I asked her whether she had her dinner. She promptly replied not yet. I informed that the kitchen was about to close. She said,” Please order something light for me.” “Spaghetti aglio oglio would be good “

“Perfect”

I picked up the receiver and dialled Mr. Khanna’s number. The call was answered in some fourth ring. The manly voice on the other said, “Raj here, who’s this?”

Sir, this is Asmita from Drift Bar at the Holiday village. Mrs. Khanna has arrived at the bar looking for you.

“Oh..!! Ok I would be there in the next few minutes. Just ask her to wait there and PLEASE...” There was a long pause.

I broke the silence,” Sir, please don’t worry. She is very comfortable here and is been looked after. She has ordered for a glass of wine and pasta to eat. Would you like something for yourself?”

The moon deck- exit to beach from golf course

“No”, and then I heard the sound of click. I placed the phone back on the hook and glanced at the lady. She was looking back at me trying to understand most of the conversation I was making on the phone. I gave an assured eye contact and said,” He will be here in a while.” I got back to my register and calculator. My coke was flat by now. I sipped on the coke syrup. Within few minutes, I heard the screeching sound of the iron gate which opened to the beach. The sound was from far distance. I stared in the dark; I saw two figures coming up from the beach from the golf course side. I could make out that one of that was the lady evidently because of her free flowing gown. The man maintained a slow jogging pace as he reached the bar from the golf course. I made swift exit to the sunset deck to get the glasses he held in his right hand.

“Why did God make women so beautiful and man with such a loving heart?”
― Walker Percy

“Situation was under control”, I sighed to myself. He went in and hugged his wife tightly. She dug her face into his chest and he looked up and winked at me. “Sophisticated Asshole”, I thought and wicked smile developed on my face. He ordered for a wine bottle for the evening, sung for her, danced with her, fed her food, they talked and laughed loudly. He was one of the most outstanding, smart, flirt I had seen ever. Anyways, 1:30 am they packed up. The golf cart arrived at the restaurant to drop them to their room. Mr. Khanna signalled me to swipe his card and get his check. He slipped his right hand into his wife’s waist and escorted her to the cart. He came back to sign the credit card receipt. All he said was Thank you. He slipped out two one thousand rupees bills from wallet and placed it on the counter. I welcomed him for his gesture and pulled the bills off the counter into my pocket.

The next day I was little late for my breakfast shift. I landed around 10 am in the morning. The breakfast buffet closes then. I had a hangover, my head oscillated like a pendulum out of a grandfather’s clock. To worsen the effect, the wavelength was reduced and the frequency was at its peak. I walked to the bar. Allen, the morning bartender was setting up the bar, cleaning it. I asked him to make a fresh lime soda and pick some breakfast from the closing buffet. I switched on the system to check the sales report and emails.  Something was pulling my attention time and again. I looked at the table on the sunset deck. Three musketeers from the last night story and one more person sat chatting. Wow, so everyone knows each other. Who’s the fourth guy now? I logged in the property management software. Two bookings 1105 and 1106 were made together. Two couples, both the men were proprietors of the same company. A single person’s arrival was entered into system today morning at 6:45am. That was the fourth gentleman.

Someone told me the delightful story of the crusader who put a chastity belt on his wife and gave the key to his best friend for safekeeping, in case of his death. He had ridden only a few miles away when his friend, riding hard, caught up with him, saying 'You gave me the wrong key!” - Anaïs Nin..
The lady who was accompanying the stud initially was this late comer’s married wife.

Crazy, isn’t it?  But still it remains PRIVATE & CONFIDENTIAL

Evolution of dining out concept!!!

Sarai- a place to rest during old days

In India and across the globe anywhere food, clothing and shelter are identified as basic needs for human civilization. I wonder how the first time ever the relationship between food and human get established. It gave birth to the idea that you had to earn your bread. Thus, people started adopting various occupations along with farming. It was an intense relationship that only evolved over ages and ages. What amuses me the most is human never got bored with the same partner, food. Maybe because this partner has progressed as man did. True, be it ingredients, styles, techniques, appearance and even the place which served food had evolved just like the man who eats it. A place developed its staple diet depending upon the crops that were grown and the cattle or poultry raised. This ideally was directly related to the terrain, soil, rainfall, sunlight, proximity to sea and such natural factors.  A simple example of this is in northern part of India, there is lot of emphasis on cooking food with ghee and butter, however southern Indian cookery relies a lot on coconut oil. This is because of abundance of cattle in the northern part of India and similarly of coconut trees due to the proximity of sea in southern India. In the early times, people travelled on their feet or animal carriers and carriages. They would either carry their food along with them if it was a small journey or ate at the nearest place to stay like a sarai or an inn. That was probably the only time that eating out was required at all. The food would vary depending on the location they were travelling to and the availability of crops and animals there. If one travelled towards Karnataka at that time, rice, sambar and fish curry would be common meals as it was abundant and fresh. Freshness, a factor which is largely ignored in today’s life. I would come back to that topic a little later. Trends have changed today from that time. Nowadays, we don’t carry much time in our pocket to sit and have our breakfast. Forget about a prayer before having it.



Bhaji and Batata wada: the best take away

Today eating out has become very common for several reasons. These reasons have somehow developed eating out from need to a habit. There are several reasons that people want to eat out for.  A few of them are below; look down you may find yours too.

Roadside sandwich- a quick bite

 

 

 

 

 

 

I am hungry and tired: Timeliness of food is long forgotten. Every one of us has a busy schedule, a time to punch in, a deadline to achieve and then in the evening a movie or a sit com to watch. “Hurry, curry and worry” is the tagline to describe this hustle and bustle. In Mumbai or any city, life is like running on a treadmill constantly. This makes fatigue and hunger really common. And then when walking back home or while being in transit you watch someone eating a burger...even a bhel puri, you want it too. Why not, its basic instinct of a human. So we tend to eat a small snack at either a small quick snack place or pick up a takeaway to have with the evening chai or coffee.

 

Whose wants to buy utensils, vegetables.. I am here for just 6 months

I don’t have much time and utility to cook: Usually in cases where it is about a small trip somewhere or a visit for few months. Even though we have an apartment, we hardly want to invest into the utensils and equipments used for making and storing food. Then there is also a headache of buying vegetables, egg meat, lentils and grains.  So, why not just have food at different eateries in the locality.

Restaurants are so much better a place to socialize

 

 

 

I want to socialize: A trend that is like a built in program in us. I have a get together, it’s my birthday or anniversary ...Let us celebrate and such many. Meeting at a restaurant and pub is better to avoid the mess at home that probably you will have to clear all alone later.

 

I want to try something new: This one’s the decision making statement when the discussion arises to decide a place to eat. This is independent of being  group of friends, office colleagues or a family. Enough of the kebabs, I want to try a pasta with seafood or pizza today. All of us want to visit a restaurant, bar, pub and lounge to experience not only the food but the luxury of prompt service with attention.

Let's try something new..How about mediterranean

Guess, you must have found yours also. So how did this culture built in. Well I have a story to tell you. In the early 1990s India was hit by globalisation. Internet, email, Wi fi and mobile phones sneaked out on the globe’s playground. Thomas Friedman says, “These players made the world flatter.” I say, “It brought the global cuisines on a single platter.” Let’s go back twelve years from now we had some few places which catered to international cuisines. You could have counted this places like Kamling and Golden Dragon for Chinese, Tanjore and Khyber for Indian, Zodiac grill and later Indigo for European food. It had to be Insomnia for the dance floor. Now, there are places in every locality which dish out Chinese, Italian, Thai and their basterised versions. The qualities are although questionable. Nevertheless, are the various socio-economic classes of the human civilization that they cater to.  Indian economy had opened its doors to foreign investment and multinational companies. So, a five or six digit salary was a very common package offered.  Through the same doors sneaked in food from these foreign places. Our taste buds sprung to life and evolved the luxury of weekend dinners in a good restaurant. We were young then and we adopted this luxury and made it an everyday habit. So, today almost 80% of us will at least buy a snack, a chocolate bar or a beverage (soft drink, milkshake or even tea and coffee) from outside. Mr. Chidambaram was not completely wrong, never mind I have the least to say over it. Thus we built a very strong food business market in India. It’s almost one of the lucrative businesses in India. Lucrative, you want to know how??



Indian wedding banquest

India is a country of varied religions, regions, cultures, colors, celebrations and festivals. I am proud of its rich and varied heritage; I have pledged so in school for years. A country where there is music and food for every occasion. The very time a baby is born, we distribute pedas and barfis for a boy and girl respectively to complement with the sweet lullaby that is sung along. Then, in the following years in the child’s life the birth date is celebrated with “Happy Birthday to you” and along with it the cake is imperative followed with a sumptuous meal. Then, the wedding..Oh!! well there are songs from every state for this occasion including the famous Punjabi “ mehfil da sajdi jab nache kudi di...” then even death is mourned with mantras and shlokas and there is food again, specially the favourite dishes of the person who has passed away. Thus, I wanted to sum it up saying that decent and bedazzled banquets accompany every occasion and celebration of the circle of life.  I haven’t yet mentioned the festivals. Its Holi then we have the Puran poli with a lentil curry called katachi amti in Maharashtra. Malpoa and sheer kurma with biryani is the standard for Ramzan. The Ganpati festival has modaks made with different ingredients. Then the biggest festiva Diwali that marks Maryada Purushottam (a man who is the epitome of morals and principles) Ram’s return to Ayodhya and the locals  lit lamps all over the place to welcome him... thus it always follows Dusshera, the fall of Ravan. Diwali brings home ladoos made from Bengal gram flour, wheat flour and coconut, chaklis, gujiyas, bhujiyas and shakarpara.  Then is the Easter with the marzipan, Easter eggs, crusty savory and dessert pies and Thanksgiving with the juicy ham leg and roasted turkey.

The stuffed turkey for thanksgiving

The Christmas made christmasy with the plum cake soaked in rum. My mouth is watering mentioning only these few and famous ones. There are so many more, the list is endless. So many opportunities to make money in the food industry leaving behind the everyday clientele. What makes it lucrative is

• Low rates of commodities offered by suppliers: Since the restaurateurs order raw material like vegetable, herbs, meat, eggs, milk and fish in bulk quantities. They always manage to get an affordable deal than what we (common man) buy it for. There are one or two and sometimes even more eateries on every street. Imagine the kind of bulk orders going there.  Imagine the quantities stocked in huge hotels which have a fleet of restaurants operating within. This also increases the price of commodities for the local people. The demand for the raw material increases and the supply is limited. This also gives a chance to capitalise on the same by hiking their prices even though much of the commodities are at slashed rates for them.



Gujrati Thali

•  Concepts and cuisine which were native and quite mediocre are subjected to over exaggeration making them sound as rare. Let me give you some example, regional cuisines like Malvani, Goan, Gujrati, Northwestern frontier are turned around into high end and sophisticated ones. Ingredients like the famous fubu fish, mushrooms and such many which were eaten out of absence of other foods are rare delicacies now. Techniques like charcoal cooking and using earthen ware developed in absence of fuel and unaffordability of metallic vessels are the unique selling proposition lately. Some places create a garage kind of look, some like an English pub with the crimson brick wall. That’s not enough then there are some which have developed an open air dhaba like one on the Marwar platau. These were basic concepts and techniques, staple diets but their facade has been changed.

Cheese, meat and sausage at Delicatessen counters

•  Restaurants are becoming a showcase to various processed foods, like aged or smoked cheese, cured meats, foreign vegetables and fruits, packaged processed foods. Most of them get such products on free of cost deal to be utilized in their dishes and advertised in the market. It’s the similar way how Bollywood actors make appearances on several television shows when they near the release of their movie. Sole intention is publicity and then they build a better audience. Similarly, these products do this small investment to grab large scale publicity and profits. Thus, the consumer buys the product to get the taste and feel of the restaurant food which is not achievable, to be honest. You cannot build a Taj Mahal just because you own a marble quarry.

This marks clearly the commercialization of food and we have chosen to buy it with both our hands. The prices charged are exorbitant and unjustified. Many a time, what food we taste as international cuisines is not even close to the actual cuisine. They are modified as per Indian taste buds. But having pasta, a hand rolled pizza or red Thai curry has become a status symbol. How many of us take care of the quality of the food that we eat? I am not here to preach or criticize but my motive is to spread awareness. I am also from the same industry and respect the creative part of it. Cooking is not only an art but also involves science. The science of temperatures, personal hygiene, storage conditions,  food handling practices, chemical and chemical reactions is very important.  What I am mentioning below is true about almost about a huge quantum of restaurants practices.

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  Kaju katri

  The ingredients used in the food, sometimes have passed their prime (expiry date or best before). But still such products get used knowingly and unknowingly.  The oil used for frying is hardly cared for. In most situations it’s highly over oxidised. Oil is thrown out when it gets black. Oxidised oil’s intake is carcinogenic.
• The chemicals like Mono Sodium Glutamate, used majorly in Chinese cookery are not really nutritious for your body, sarcasm intended. Also the other chemicals like food additives, artificial flavours (fruit salts and syrups) and the deadly food colours that make your tandoori chicken and paneer red. Ideal this all are chemical compounds and their traces never flush out of your body.
• In many cases food is precooked and stored. When you order the dish, it is cooked again and finished elegantly. Freshness of food is lost; I guess we have become immune towards it. The ingredients used are itself not fresh and stocked from a long time. Remember I have mentioned the practice of bulk order. So the vegetable that you are eating was delivered a week back, chopped a day and half back and cooked now. Let’s forget when it was harvested. The pork or the fish you are eating is dead almost 2 weeks back. What you are chewing is well marinated dead flesh. It’s improved for your palette using various techniques and ingredients.
• Some places are so desperate to make a cheap replica of sophisticated foods that they use cheap and harmful ingredients. The silver warak that most of us see on mithai is not silver always. Some places use aluminium sheets, and aluminium is not a mineral helpful to your system and that too in such good quantity.
• What about food handler’s personal hygiene, and hygiene of the place where food is cooked. Some kitchens have such horrible ventilation that sweating profusely is the most obvious thing. Make sure you have a look next time. The kind of hygiene you observe when you cook for yourself is a rare sight in commercial kitchens.
• If the food is not stored at right temperatures, there can be bacterial growth into the same.  Especially true for meats and dairy products. Also the fish smells fishy because of this. Inaccurate temperature and prolonged storage screws it up.

Pani puri..all time favorite street food item

I feel this is enough for you to realize what is eating out all about. But believe me there are some places, not all expensive ones but mediocre ones who are concerned about hygiene. It is very important as a consumer we pay attention to such details. It is very important that people running the restaurants are professionals educated with such hygiene protocols. It goes without saying that they should apply them too. But humans are lazy animals. Eating out is good for recreation and an experience or unforgettable memories. Let’s not make it a status symbol and a daily habit. Home cooked food is the best. It’s made with fresh ingredients, love and passion and is definitely healthy.

Cheers!!!!

Anaddict