Chai Garrammm...

This Saturday’s visit to Tea Centre in town was a celebration. A snacky celebration of memories, in culmination. I’ve visited this place before but this visit with N threw up a special Delhi – nostalgia.

Ushered in by liveried waiters, interiors resplendent in Green and its various shades, water color portraits hung on walls - to be sold, almost every seat taken up - by a curious mix of 20 somethings and all ages. Curious because we did not expect the 20’s generation to be enjoying tea when the Café Coffe Days & Coffee Worlds are winning the opinion polls by huge margins. We’re victims of cliche may be!

The order was placed. Mind you, the only way to be waited upon was to summon attention by ringing the bell at our table. An unexpected craving for something old and familiar tugged at my palette and I made the suggestion to N. Pakoras. We wholeheartedly succumbed and so placed the order for a plateful of Pakoras.

They came. With Daintily flavored Assam tea in a Carafe (they’ve done away with the ceramic pots maybe because of maintenance reasons)and milk in a silver pot. A heaped plateful of Pakoras – Onions, Potatoes, Cauliflower, Spinach, fat green Chilies fully decked in spiced batter to acquire the look and flavor of what we North-Indians have salivated after, for generations. Fresher than fresh and piping hot. Hot enough to delay our eager demolition of the plateful. Memories of several cloudy & rainy evenings in Delhi when a similar fare was served at our homes became a natural companion at our table. Yet another one of those common heart-tuggers that help us bond, time and again.

Taste buds tingled and aroused, we had to top it off – hence a plate of Tikkis was called for. Also followed many-a-discussion on the possibility of replicating the Delhi- Tikkis - doubtful, expectant, encouraged - all-at-once!! They arrived and were different - but fresh and interestingly flavored. The surprising 6-in-a-plate serving made a doggy-pack a natural companion when we exited the place.

Replete and content, to be regaled to friends and to be visited as often as possible!!

Staying Connected

Have been rather busy... with what you'd ask! - cannot translate coherently into anything that makes sense. A jamboree really :

N finally met up with his cousin, he viisted The Nest for dinner. The food (that I served! ) was not much to my liking, am not sure hence if the guest went back much sated!! Was good to listen to some anecdotal teasings & nostalgia between the cousins. And some dark family secrets (as they termed it). Net net - it's proven: it's always fun catching up with cousins, despite lengthy periods of no 'connect' over the width of seas, STD/ ISD lines, hundreds of kms, family functions, family group Ids, birthday wishes and the rest.

The surprise on my Birthday saved more than a few bad hours (N?)... what with Chaya and gang conspiring with my husband to gift me a surprise-gatecrash with cake, love, hugs, et all. Some photo moments will be posted soon. Secret well kept N! and a great one at the dusk of a day when i'd silently wondered ' why has none of them remembered?!' 'Is this all there is to my 'connectedness' with them?' For dinner, the choice of the cuisine and venue was mine and the Mohan's and us polished off a lovely spread at Thai Ban. A day replete with long lost voices, apologies for mistaken birth dates, catching up and incessant wishes from friends who i'd lost 'connect' with, or so I thought. All 'picked up from where we left it'... I think I'm going to be in touch again!

My Mom's birthday was quieter... she said!! But all us kids were connected, i promise!

The book shelf arrived (in parts) and was 'nailed and screwed' up in the corner of our TV room... big, slim, majestic and I love it! Next day spent in meticulosly arranging our long-ignored library according to the genre & geography of authors. One more wish solemnised.

Met the other N... celebrating life!! I had to meet him that day, no matter what! Never seen him so shaken & relieved {oxymoronically}, a 'first' realisation, perhaps, of human vulnerability to disease, destiny and despair; the despair & dread he says he experienced, every moment, while awaiting the biopsy report. Is he going to change( however subtly) hereon... only time will tell. I felt mommy-like again... and was glad to give him my warmest reassuring celebratory hug (my first bear-hug to my mentor). I'm going to be his mentor i think, maybe for a while... only to assure and confirm that it's ok to express & emote, it's natural to feel fear, it's logical to worry and panic and that there are always people who will stay 'connected' with you, however distant, intuitively, instinctively, in your worst times.

This is why we continue to live, hope, pray & believe.

Forbidden Berries

Seductive Simplicities

Britania Co. Ltd., located at Ballard Estate, Mumbai will ring a ‘nostalgic’ bell for many a Mumbaikar, but for yours truly – still not fully initiated into Mumbai’s very best & very basic – it was the very first encounter. I’d not heard of its existence till this day (April 6)

Clearly a day which was more meticulously planned out than many others, we managed to pack in quite a bit, actually a lot – slept in, aggressive cardio at the gym, light breakfast to be compensated later at lunch and departure by the stipulated time.

South Mumbai on holidays continues to be a breeze, though on this ‘Good Friday’ we had to navigate through a bit of traffic en route. Britania is nestled in the heart of the statuesque Ballard Estate, still one of the most influential business districts in the country’s commercial capital. The buildings, said to be designed by George Wittet - the architect for Gateway and the Museum- bear the familiar similarity of high ceilings and big windows, the architectural left- over from the British Raj. And lanes beautifully lined with the green and balminess of tress rooted there for 100 years or more.

Britania, now in its 90s & one of Mumbai’s oldest Irani (Persian) restaurants, is simply puritanical – no nonsense, no frills, perhaps one of the last of a dying breed of Irani establishments once teeming in many a nook and corner of South Mumbai.

‘There is no Love greater than the Love of Eating’ written bold in highlighted font welcomed our attention as we entered and settled into a corner seating of four.

The romance of the place does not hit you at first sight, but slowly softens all your five senses as you absorb it. The names of the partners written boldly in white on a black board, the specialty of the day announced in big bold on another board, the matured efficiency of waiters commanding silent respect from every table because of their meticulous professional waiting upon tables, and so on. And what struck me the most were the 2 old bespectacled Parsee gentlemen (looked like the owners themselves) personally taking orders at tables. Can get anyone guilt-struck about being waited upon by such age & pedigree.

And one of the old gentlemen did exactly that! Hunched with age, thick rimmed glasses on, holding a small pad (made of loose pieces of paper) to take down our order, monotonous expression. I spied his shaky fingers taking down the order in convenient code - 2 Berry Pulaos as BP 2, 2 Chicken Salli Boti as C SB 2, and so on- and I silently wished for the food connoisseurs at our table to be quick & decisive and not make him wait.

Gladly our ordering was swift, considering some parts of the menu had been frozen (and perhaps dreamt about the previous night) right when the plot was hatched. ‘Patraani Machchi’, ‘Salli Boti’ and the famed Berry-pulao were the highlights complimented by magnanimously buttered toasts, fish fries and topped off by caramel custard, chocolate mousse and the famous colored raspberry drinks. Of course the protagonist was the Berry pulao (a version of the Iranian zereshk polow) , an outstanding signature dish, made with succulent spiced boneless mutton (or chicken), fragrant long-grain basmati rice, and tart barberries imported from Iran.

Enchantingly flavored, peppered with succulent pieces of chicken, colorfully spread out in layers it is like a feast for kings.

Do you remember those familiar heart-beats when the exam invigilator stopped at your desk peering from above at your hurried writing, and your fingers froze and the pen slowed down, conscious of time running by but rooted because the teacher might spot some wrongly written answer, earnestly wishing he would take his walking vigil to another desk. I experienced ditto when the Parsee old man stopped at our table & singled me out for having stopped eating. Amply chastised, poor me. Thereafter, I would have food in my plate and my spoon actively servicing my mouth, every time he came near our table. And I must add, the superlative food even made the shamming delectable.

Immensely gratifying and I can anytime shut my eyes and feel the wispy taste of the berries in my mouth. I’d read somewhere about ‘mindful eating’ (as opposed to devouring) that is akin to savoring every morsel that you intake and this place truly revived this experience of eating with all senses on alert, for me. I’m raring for a second visit very soon, the Love of Eating having indeed become my greatest Love, for the moment!