The not-so-secret diary

Just to be clear, there is absolutely no plan to turn this into a food blog. "Only" about 50 of my posts probably talk about food. However, as with any big city, socialising in London is synonymous with eating out. And never more so in the run-up to Christmas and New Year. Tonight was pizza night with group of London foodies. I must state at the onset that the organiser was wholly transparent in calling this a 'budget pizza place'. A stone's throw from Covent Garden in Central London, for £5 it would be difficult to find a cafe/ restaurant that has indoors seating and also does pizza. So full marks for that. Fewer marks though for the quality of pizza. Well, on the plus side it was big in size. Lots of stretchy cheese. A few pieces of mushroom and onion thrown in. A less than average base. Okay, you get the drift. I struggled with even the first slice.  It didn't help that I'd eaten a very late lunch so was not the slightest bit hungry. I wish the...

More than an year ago, an alternate view on the Taj was doing the rounds in the world of theatre. Based on a 1970s play written by London-based author Dilip Hiro (of Indian heritage?), a production was staged in, hold your breath, Gurgaon - a suburb of Delhi. If you believe the historians, Super-Rani Mumtaz was not only dazzlingly beautiful but also scarily smart, ambitious and powerful. The play adds some more fuel to this by surmising that she was much better at chess than Shah Jahan. After an intense game one day, this seems to have annoyed him enough to accidentally push her off the chair. The only shocking aspect here is that a  superior Urdu production of the play was premiered in that bastion of culture Gurgaon. Yes, really. And well-received it was. Rewinding five years ago, this was me : "Welcome to Gurgaon, the soul-less, American wannabe, consumer hub of north India". More recently my friends cried hoarse: "It's transforming. We have cool ...

If you are like me, you are probably thinking life was just a lot easier in the past when people invited you over for dinner, or when you were on a flight the attendant asked: Veg or Non-Veg? Not any more. Amongst the mind-boggling range of food and life choices now available, I discovered today the existence of The Flexitarian'.  This appears to refer to a person who is not quite vegetarian but appears to have chosen to eat less meat. Hang on- so that's everyone who is NOT vegetarian (!) because 'less' is a relative term. Despite my initial disdain, I have decided there is some weight behind this idea. Mainly since it suggests that people who choose to be flexatarians have had some realisation, usually on moral, health or environmental grounds that either they or the planet may benefit from more plant-based foods. So far, so good. In fact I have some solid evidence from my London social circle that shows they were already 'on-trend' before this term wa...

I may have taken a brief hiatus from blogging but not in exploring London 's hidden culinary nooks. So I combine here my three most interesting yet diverse restaurant experiences from the last few months . In chronological order of visit, I start first with the unexpected delights of Shaolin temple's little restaurant in Tufnell Park. Admittedly the trek to the wild regions 'North' of the River Thames was an arduous one (you guessed it, I'm in the 'South' camp).  However my planned gate-crash of this small dinner party hosted by Chinese linguists was possibly the best 'I'm-inviting-myself-to-this-evening' occasion. I have no doubt the memory of that yummy aubergine dish, stir fried green beans and crunchy tofu will take me back there soon. No photos sadly and the temple/kung fu centre doesn't really advertise this little restaurant, but here's a link  . Equally surprising was the lovely restaurant with its pretty crockery at the Well...

It was not even an express Acela journey but plain ol' Amtrak, once again, as I made a leisurely trip to Boston to NY and back. Time-wise, it's a close call between flying or taking the train. For me, the train wins on the basis of free wi-fi and the ability to look at passing scenery, however non-descript it may be. I start with the more interesting bits in line with my new 'positivity-creates-a-good-energy-chain-reaction' philosophy. Some rail coaches have so much leg space that I could fit this small cabin-size suitcase (borrowed from friends) in front of me albeit at the cost of being unable to stretch my legs out in luxury. There is overhead space of course but for those who not quite six-feet tall , this is great. There are also some luggage racks as you enter most coaches. The charming Kingston Station in Rhode Island lies enroute to NY. The Americans have done better than their British ancestors with this one. I usually love brick facades bu...

Sometimes I start writing posts and get side-tracked. This is one of those that should have seen the light of day two months ago. As they say better late than never. More importantly, I started 2015 with some radical changes to improve my life-work balance. Ahem, you may notice that with my new-found wisdom I have swapped the term 'work-life' around. Live to work or work to live? Or love to live to work? Anyhow I have finally found time to start reading through my stack of half-finished and yet-to-start books that were beginning to form a tall-ish rectangular pillar by my bedside table.  Do I hear the sniggers of Kindle-owners? Alas this safe, digital book filled life is not for me, for each evening I face the heart-racing task of balancing a glass of water, a phone-cum-alarm, a hair clip and other random objects on an ever-growing stack of 'real' books. Not to mention the 'living-on-the-edge' feeling of groggily switching the phone-cum-alarm off each mo...

After half a decade of shunning the last stop of the Victoria Line tube in London, last week I was persuaded by a friend to spend an evening at Brixton. I had heard of the transformation of this erstwhile slightly terrifying part of London into a new trendy locality. It seemed   worth checking out. On exiting the tube station I saw the high street now has more than the Pound-stretcher and betting shops. Rubbing shoulders (well almost) are some typical high street retail chains like H and M, and Marks and Spencer (if that doesn't break the rule of the number of 'ands' in a sentence I don't know what does. My blog software goes nutty if I use ampersands). We wandered down to the fresh fruit, vegetable, meat and fish market. Even at dusk, it all looked pretty fresh. However, after 10 minutes wandering down the lanes I confess I dragged my friend away as the sight of so many carcasses does tend to make me squeamish. But not before she managed to buy two huge onions fo...

It is fascinating how the boundaries of what is acceptable and what is questionable change over time and across societies. In this basket of 'slightly tacky- politically incorrect-a bit too sweet-but a great laugh down memory lane', I would place Phantom sweet cigarettes. I haven't seen a packet for at least 20 years (or possibly since I was in primary school in India). And as my knowledgeable younger sibling tells me, they are no longer sold in Delhi and neighbouring towns. On special request from her a friend got about four packets down from Ludhiana (of all the places!). For those of you wondering what the hell these are, this is what the packet looks like from outside. And inside this are a set of ten 'cigarettes' made out of a white candy which actually tastes like sugary chalk and has red-coloured candy tip to indicate a flame. My first thought on seeing the pack was, funnily enough, nostalgia. It brought to mind summer holidays at school, hanging...

A belated post on Oki, the new Korean restaurant in London which continues to delight us locals in SW19.  A few weeks ago, my   friends and I   decided to both test and taste the menu by working down our way through it slowly. After the slurp-yummy Dolsot Bibimbap,  our latest discoveries include the big bowls of soupy-noodles (with veggies, tofu or seafood) and semi-spicy stir fries with rice on the side. One Friday going by the sated look on my companion’s face it was obvious that the bento box was apt for meeting strong hunger pangs. Especially for someone who has just finished a swimming session and feels ‘ready to eat a horse’! Another recent memorable evening was one where a couple of us decided to go for carrot and orange juice to accompany our main meals. We started with one glass per person which soon became several glasses through the evening. Well, some of us were more thirsty than others :D As a friend mentioned, i t’s a mercy they didn’t ru...