Eating out? Hell no!

Restaurants are getting louder, dimmer, and much less fun; frankly, I'd rather eat in 

 

As someone who eats out reasonably often, I have to confess that the ‘restaurant experience’ is leaving me completely cold of late. Given a choice I would much rather cook for myself and eat at home or – if I am feeling lazy – just order in and serve it up on my dining table. Why, you ask? Well, let me count the ways…

 

First off, the thing that annoys me the most about restaurants these days: loud music pounding away relentlessly so that any conversation with your dinner companions is impossible. I have to keep asking my dinner guests to repeat what they say; and that can get really annoying (for both parties) after a while. And worse, I have to keep shouting at the top of my voice to be heard above the music. Result: my throat is a goner midway through the evening. 

 

I don’t know why more people don’t complain about this. Or maybe I do. Every time I have asked the manager of a restaurant to turn the music down, he has shut down my request by saying, “But madam, everybody else is enjoying the music!” Are they? Let’s just say I have my doubts. 

 

Then there’s the question of lighting; or should I say, the lack thereof. Most restaurants are trying so hard to be glamorous and night-clubby that they keep the lighting at the bare minimum to seem mysterious and alluring. The result is that you cannot even see what you are eating let alone the faces of those dining with you. 

 

I had the strangest ‘lighting experience’ at a Mumbai restaurant (which shall remain unnamed – but you know who you are) a few weeks ago. When we entered (a party of four) the restaurant was so brightly lit that my spirits rose at the sight. Then, just as we had finished our starters and were waiting for our mains, the lights dipped precipitously. We called the manager to ask what was going on. He said the lights are on an automatic dimmer. Okay, we said, as we tucked into our mains. 

 

Then, just as he presented the dessert menu, the lights dipped further. Now it was not even possible to read the menu. We called the manager again and asked if the lights could be increased. No, he said, they were on an automatic dimmer. “Nobody can touch the dimmer,” he said proudly, “not even me.” The only response to that was to ask for the bill and leave to have dessert elsewhere – which is what we duly did.

 

My other pet peeve about restaurants these days is the constant upselling. The moment you sit down, a waiter will materialize to ask if you want still or sparkling water; the unspoken assumption being that you are a cheapskate if you ask for tap. They will try and push you to order the most overpriced thing on the menu. And if you ask for a wine recommendation, you can be sure that they will try and steer you to the most expensive choice.

 

Is it any wonder then that I turn down most invitations to eat out these days? And that my dining table has become my favourite restaurant – where I call the shots, not some snotty/greedy restaurant manager/chef.

Keep it light and bright

When you are entertaining unexpected guests during Diwali

In the modern world, that old custom of ‘just dropping by’ without calling ahead has become a thing of the past. With just one exception: the run-up to Diwali. That’s when people (friends, family members, professional contacts, neighbours, etc.) think nothing of popping by unannounced, with a box of mithai/Diwali present/goodies hamper in hand. There was a time when this used to leave me frazzled. One, because the house was not looking at its pristine best. Two, because I did not have enough snacks in the kitchen or drinks in the fridge. And three, because I was often caught out in my pjs (my go-to uniform for a Diwali spring clean).

 

Well, I’ve learnt my lessons the hard way. And over the years, I have perfected my Diwali entertainment routine so that I don’t panic every time the bell rings during this period. So, here are some pointers to make your Diwali hostessing as low-key and high-impact as possible:

 

·       One easy way of making your drawing room look festive is to string some fairy lights around your walls, book shelves and along the ceiling. Then, with the flip of a switch you can turn your entertainment space into a fairyland of sorts, without having to bother with scented candles, diyas and the like. And if you want the sofa and cushions looking pristine when visitors drop in, just banish your family from this area during this period. No muss no fuss. 

·       Fixing everyone a drink according to their choice can often get quite bothersome – especially when every single person has a different drink order. So, rather than offer my guests carte blanche, I give them specific options: red wine or white; gin or vodka; single malt or blend. It helps to keep the liquor and mixers within easy reach with a fully loaded ice box. That way, you can serve everything up from the comfort of your couch.

·       Snacks need to be equally fuss-free. This is the one time of the year when there is a glut of dry fruit and sweets in the house. So just bung some of the stuff into bowls and let them take up permanent residence on the table and restock as needed. If you want to serve warm snacks in addition, then you can’t go wrong with frying some frozen aloo tikkis or popping some microwave in the oven and slathering some masala on it. Minimal effort; maximum taste. 

·       Yes, I get it, nobody wants to spend all day gussied up in fancy clothes. And yet, you want to look presentable for your guests. My way around this is to wear a comfortable kurta pyjama set that allows me to bustle around the house; but keep a dressy dupatta/stole within easy reach. So, the moment the bell goes, I drape the dupatta around me, and go from under-dressed to just right in a matter of seconds. Another way of achieving high-octane glamour with low-key efforts is to keep your clothing simple but dress it up with a pair of statement earrings or a dramatic necklace. And yes, don’t forget to spritz on some perfume. Nothing says you’re ready for the festivities more than the sweet scent of jasmine, rose or even musk. Happy Diwali to you all!

 

Focus on the present

This festive season gift everyone experiences rather than things

 

Is your dining table beginning to get crowded with enormous dabbas of mithai and dry fruit? Do you now have a glut of scented candles and diyas littering your sideboard? And are you starting to get inundated with every kind of baked good imaginable? If the answer to any (or all) of these questions is yes, then welcome to the pre-Diwali period, when everyone is so busy sending out celebratory hampers that it becomes difficult not to look a gift horse in the mouth. 

 

Finding myself in something of the same situation, I decided (entirely in the public interest, you understand) to draw up a list of all the things that could work as Diwali gifts – and not leave the receiver completely unimpressed. So, here’s just some pointers; feel free to add anything you feel I may have missed out on.

 

·       Books are always the perfect present, though they can get a little tricky if you are not sure of the other person’s tastes (or indeed if they already have a particular book). So, the next best thing is to offer a gift card for your favourite book store or even an Amazon gift card so that the receiver can choose something that works for him or her. 

·       Another thing that you can’t really go wrong with is skincare. Choose a brand that suits your packet and put together a basket of sweet-smelling shower gel, face cream, moisturizer, or whatever takes your fancy. Stick a few flowers on the basket and you have a gift that is both pretty and pretty useful.

·       I love receiving little pot plants on Diwali so I am going to go out on a limb here and say that they qualify as desirable presents. Just one caveat though: please don’t give away fancy bonsai arrangements or terrariums that come with a dozen complicated instructions for maintenance. Just send out plants that are near-impossible to kill and everyone will be happy.

·       Gifting experiences rather than things works as well – especially with close friends and family, whose preferences you are familiar with. It could be a gift coupon for a spa treatment, a haircut or a massage. As long as it feels like a special experience, it is always welcome. 

·       Sometimes it works to be a little utilitarian as well. If you know that your friend has an expensive Nespresso habit, then gifting her a six-month – or yearly, if you’re feeling generous – supply of coffee capsules will earn you plenty of brownie points (and a nice cup of coffee too, for good measure).

·       But if you are the traditional kind and insist on a good old-fashioned Diwali hamper, then here’s a pointer of some things that work well: a nice bottle of extra-virgin olive oil; a bottle of good red wine or whiskey; a small box of kaju katli; a colourful toran for its symbolic value; and a beautifully-designed diya that can do duty even after the festival of lights has come and gone. 

 

It's that time of year again...

The signs that the festive season is here are all around us

As surely as summer follows spring, Diwali comes calling soon after the Goddess Durga has gone back to her home in the hills after celebrating Pujos. But even if you don’t monitor the calendar too closely, it is easy to tell when the festive season is upon us. The signs are all around, even if you aren’t really looking out for them. 

In my case, the first hint arrives from Mother Nature herself. The two Shiuli plants on my balcony start budding and in a matter of days, tiny white flowers with an orange centre begin appearing. They bloom during the night, bringing the most amazing fragrance with them. And the next day, the floor is covered with the blossoms that fell overnight, creating a white, perfumed carpet to greet you as you wake in the morning. 

But there are some signs of the approaching festive season that are far more universal. Let’s count just some of them. 

• Everyone who serves you in some way tends to get even more solicitous around this time. The doorman of the hotel you visit opens your car door with a extra flourish; your hairstylist spends more time on your blow dry than ever before; the employees in your office can’t do enough for you; and your staff at home is suddenly full of smiles and good cheer. Is it just the festive spirit that is improving their mood? Or is it the thought of Puja and Diwali bonuses? An ignoble thought, perhaps. But we have all had them, haven’t we?

• No matter where in the country you live, the traffic suddenly increases exponentially during this time of the year. It could be that everyone is out celebrating with friends and family. And those that aren’t are busy delivering gifts to their near and dear ones. Add all those couriers schlepping across town to deliver corporate gifts and you have got a right royal traffic jam on your hands — no matter what time of day or night you venture out. 

• Markets begin to look like something out of a fairy tale with twinkling lights as far as the eye can see. The clothes on the racks get more glittery and sparkly. Gifting hampers tend to get far more elaborate. And mithai boxes start cropping up in the most unexpected of places. 

• Your email inbox starts to look like a roll call of famous and expensive brands as anyone who has access to your details (which is everyone, basically) starts sending you promotional material, offering you ‘special festive season’ discounts on everything from luggage to furniture to shoes to baby care. 

Even if you are a bit of curmudgeon like me, who abhors the commercial aspect that has overtaken every festival of late, it’s hard not to get just a little bit excited about the festivities in store. So, here’s wishing happy holidays to all of you out there. May your lives be filled with light and love. 

Going back in time

Sometimes books can work as time machines, transporting us back to when we first read them

The other day, while rummaging through my book shelves, I came across a battered copy of the collected plays of William Congreve. I hadn’t read the restoration playwright since my days studying English literature in Loreto College Calcutta a million years ago. But I fixed myself a cup of coffee and settled down to re-read one of my favourite plays, The Way Of The World. 

And before I knew it, I had gone down the rabbit hole of time, and was once again that gawky little teenager sitting in a classroom, discovering worlds that I never knew existed. I could feel that same summer sun warming my back; I could hear the muttered sighs of my classmates who didn’t have a yen for plays; and I could hear the sonorous tones of my professor giving us the historical significance of the Restoration period in English history. 

That’s when it struck me. We don’t just re-read books because we enjoy the books themselves (though that, of course, is a big part of it). We go back to old favourites because they take us back to the times in our lives when we first discovered them. 

Some years ago, for instance, a close friend of mine gave me a copy of Black Beauty by Anna Sewell as a joke present for my birthday because she had heard me say it was my favourite book as a child. We both giggled over the gift and I placed it on my bookshelf without giving it much further thought. But then, a week later, in a fit of nostalgia, I picked it up on a slow afternoon and began reading. And in a matter of minutes I was once again that little child who was mesmerised by the world evoked in the book, laughing with childlike pleasure and then crying with the intensity that only young children are capable of. 

I feel the same nostalgia when I pick up some of my battered copies of Enid Blyton’s Mallory Towers series. No matter where in the world I am, I am immediately transported back to the shady verandah of my childhood home in Calcutta, sitting in a wicker chair, absentmindedly munching my way through a packet of biscuits even as my mother berates me from the kitchen, reminding me that lunch with be ready soon. 

Whenever I pick up a Georgette Heyer, I can see my sister’s disapproving face because she thought I was far too young to be reading her romance novels. When I leaf through a thriller by Alistair Maclean I remember my brother who introduced me to him when I was a teenager. When I delve into the plays of George Bernard Shaw, it is the face of my father — who was his absolute devotee — that swims in front of my eyes. And reading any historical novel brings back memories of my grandfather, whose favourite genre this was. 

Books may transport you into another world - as indeed they do. But they do something even more important. They transport you back into another part of your life — one that you have left far behind. And that can sometimes be the most precious gift of all. 

Delhi vs Mumbai

Yes, that tedious little debate is far from over 

Last week I visited Mumbai after an absolute age to attend an exhibition dedicated to the pottery of my late mother-in-law, Vimoo Sanghvi, one of the leading ceramic artists of her time. As I circulated among the guests, I came upon a journalistic acquaintance who I hadn’t seen in ages. We had barely exchanged pleasantries when she went off into a diatribe about how much she hated Delhi. “It’s such a jenani city,” she sniffed. 

I was a bit bemused. Do you mean that it has a feminine energy, I asked. Oh no, she responded, “it’s just so aunty, if you know what I mean.”

Honestly, I had no idea what it meant except that it wasn’t supposed to be complimentary. So, I just laughed and responded, “Well, you know, I am happy to answer to ‘aunty’ any time.” 

But as I withdrew from that conversation I began to think about why people in Mumbai are so keen to diss Delhi whenever they meet someone from there. I can understand that many Mumbaikars prefer their city to almost anywhere else in India. But what purpose is served by telling visiting Delhi residents that the city they come from is a bit rubbish? You may well think that Delhi is a hellhole but what does expressing this opinion achieve?

Do you want the Delhi dweller to feel bad about his or her life choices? Do you want to establish your superiority as a Mumbaikar? Are you trying to head off criticism of your own city? Or do you simply have a chip on your shoulder that you can’t help but use to batter another city’s reputation?

I really don’t know what all this is about. But I have encountered this kind of Delhi bashing at so many social events in Mumbai over the years that I have learnt to just smile and move on. Hate Delhi? Knock yourself out. As for me, I couldn’t give a monkeys. That, at least, is my attitude. 

While I can’t fathom why people in Mumbai have such visceral responses to Delhi, I do wish that they would try and look for the best in the cities they visit, rather than search for the worst bits. I try to do that as much as possible. 

Instead of complaining incessantly about the traffic in Bangalore, I try to focus on the beautiful parks in the city. Rather than lament the dreariness of some Calcutta suburbs, I spend time in such attractions as the Strand and Botanical Garden. Instead of kvetching about mid-town congestion in Mumbai, I try to concentrate on the majestic beauty of the sea. 

Maybe that’s a strategy that visitors from Mumbai to Delhi could try. Instead of complaining about how horrid the capital is, how snobby the people are, they could spend some time enjoying what Delhi has to offer. 

And it does offer a lot: beautiful monuments that you can get lost in; wide, tree-lined avenues that lead to stunning parks that dot the city; world-class museums that offer a glimpse into everything from the Indus Valley Civilisation to modern figurative art; bustling restaurants hubs that offer cuisines from across the world; and more. 

What’s a little ‘aunty’ energy — whatever that might mean — compared to all that?

Homing in

 Going on holiday is great; but coming back home is even better

 

They say that you should consider yourself lucky if you have the time, the money, and the energy to go on holiday. That you are fortunate indeed if you can pack up and go forth to explore the world. That there is nothing quite like travel to broaden your horizons and expand your mind. 

 

All of this is true. But, if you ask me, the truly blessed are not those who get to take a vacation but those who are equally excited about the prospect of coming back home. If the comforts of your home rank as high – if not higher – as the attractions of the world then all is right in your universe.

 

Speaking for myself, there is nothing I love more than coming home after spending a week or two away. Don’t get me wrong. I love travelling as much as the next person, exploring sites, experimenting with new cuisines, meeting interesting people. But I suspect I would not enjoy it quite so much if I didn’t have the certainty of coming back home to my own comfort zone.

 

So, what exactly do I like about coming back home after a vacation? Well, here are just a few things that I look forward to:

 

·       After days of sleeping in unfamiliar beds, it is a special treat to slip between the sheets of your own. The pillows are just right (not too soft, not too hard), the duvet has the perfect thickness (so you don’t feel too hot or too cold), and all the stuff you need is well within reach on your nightstand. That is a luxury no hotel – no matter how pricey – can replicate. 

·       Exploring new restaurants, trying out new dishes, experimenting with unknown cuisines, all of this has its own charms. But after a week or so of this, my tastebuds start longing for some ghar ka khaana. And by that I don’t just mean that I miss Indian food (though my first meal when I return is always khichdi with aloo chokha) but that I long for the food I make at home, whether it is a spicy Thai curry, a railway-style omelet, or even just some oven-roasted potatoes. 

·       My husband and I have a rule that we don’t watch any television on our travels. No tuning into CNN or BBC to catch up on the news. No signing into Netflix or Amazon Prime. And no going down the YouTube rabbit hole either. This means that we always have a few good shows to catch up on when we return home. So, we settle down on our well-worn couch after dinner, a tray of tea in front of us, and binge-watch all the stuff we have missed while away – and know that we are finally home. 

·       But, in the end, what I enjoy the most about coming back home is the complete lack of disorientation. I know where all the light switches are, I don’t have to puzzle over how the shower works, I wake up in the morning knowing exactly where I am. And that feeling of being grounded in my surroundings, in my view, is worth more than a dozen holidays in the most exotic of locations.