Confession: I am not a foodie. I have never been interested in trying out new restaurants, nor in making an effort to check out the food typical of places I’ve travelled to. So for me, it was an hour of wonder, listening to a panel discussion on food writing. I will freely also confess, what drew me was that two of the panelists (Nilanjana Roy and Shoba Narayan) have been on panels over the last few weeks discussing my recent book, Roadrunner, with me. (Shoba in Bangalore, Nilanjana in Delhi). And in November, this session’s moderator, Vikram Doctor, moderated me in another discussion. He’s invariably knowledgeable and engaging, which only made this panel more appealing still.

(Click here to read the whole post)

Moderated by Vikram Doctor- featuring Nilanjana Roy, Shoba Narayan and Rushina M Ghildiyal .  

Food writing is sizzling! Across the world the interest and amount of food writing in books, newspapers, magazines, and blogs has been exploding. It is a subject with almost guaranteed reader interest - everyone eats! everyone is hungry! Everyone has opinions on where to get the best vada-pav!

Food writing spans the spectrum from serious academic research on the role of food in societies to food as a way of discovering family histories. Food writing is now less a specialised category, than a style that cuts across genres, so you have food and history, food and science, food and crime fiction, food and romance fiction, food and politics… plus, of course, there are cookbooks!

Vikram Doctor is the Editor - Special Features at the Economic Times, but the features he writes are really excuses to support the two regular columns on food that run in the paper along with other articles on food that come in ET, the Times of India and Times Crest. His main focus is on Indian food and the many meanings it has in society and culture, both in India and the Diaspora.

Actively blogging since 2002, Rushina M. Ghildyal has been a food writer for 6 years and written thousands of articles on gastronomy in reputable international publications. She continues to be a prolific blogger and is currently working on two book projects of her own. In her career she has found the perfect cover for her obsession with all things food and brazenly uses it to legitimise her foodie idiosyncrasies; such as an obsession with getting a perfect bite - every time, shamelessly discussing food with anyone, anywhere, and going to any length to get her hands on new and exotic ingredients! Rushina began as a blogger, but quickly grew into a food writer and today heads her own consultancy company (also called A Perfect Bite). Rushina also spearheads her own consultancy firm. Called ‘A Perfect Bite’, this is a fresh new company, that offers a wide range of turnkey solutions in gastronomy related consultancy to clients in the food publishing, hospitality and restaurant businesses. A strong core team of individuals, led by Rushina specialize in identifying and putting together ensemble casts of experienced, creative professionals to best serve a projects requirements on a project to project basis.

The Kala Ghoda Art Festival 2010 kicked off this morning (yesterday morning, technically, since its past midnight as I’m writing this).

My favorite time during the entire of this annual event (Click here to read the whole post)

Ten days ago, I stood in the line for tickets at Bandra station and noticed that the guy in front of me had these lines printed calligraphy-style on his T-shirt:

Stone Dead Forever
Auttgart Sineers
Galaxy Rainers
Bengrance — Witteilingen.
Being Outstanding in a Complex Society Revolution

I know, I know. You feel envious that you weren’t there to read these words for yourself. Believe me, I felt privileged.

But on Sunday (Feb 10) at the Kala Ghoda Festival, I noticed this on a T-shirt that passed by:

Being Outstanding in a Complex Society

Now that has to rank as a seriously improbable coincidence. In years of being a T-shirt slogan watcher, I’ve never seen the same wacky slogan twice. Here it’s happened within ten days. Naturally, I wonder if this is some popular quote, sort of like “Don’t tase me, bro”.

Is it?

(Click here to read the whole post)

First visit to an event like the KGAF, I prefer not to go attend an event. Instead, I like to simply wander through, getting a feel of place and time and people. (Well, in that third case, not literally a feel, you understand).

And so here’s a feel of what I got a feel of, Saturday opening day evening.

Somebody sold us a lemon tart. (Food wasn’t quite the first priority on my mind as I strolled through, but close enough). Usually, I like lemon tarts: the taste, the texture, the colour. This specimen wasn’t bad, but failed on all three of those counts.

• Instead of a healthy bilious yellow, this one was a pale yellowish-grey.
• Instead of smooth and velvety, this one was grainy, almost crunchy. And that’s before I got to the crust.
• Instead of a pleasant blend of sour and sweet, this one was lip-puckeringly limey, with an intriguing aftertaste of ghee. Lots of ghee.

I immediately ordered another.

Wife yanked me away.

(Click here to read the whole post)

Question, If you are culture vulture on the rampage and you are on the look out for a speedy snack between events what do you do ?

I suggest the momos at the Taste of Tibet stall.

Yes Momos, the crescent-shaped yummy dumplings one of Tibet’s more popular traditional foods, are a light, delicate appetizer, especially when steamed rather than fried. Whether you order the momos stuffed with chicken and vegetables or those stuffed with shiitake mushrooms, be sure to try the fiery dipping sauce, which ignites the flavors of the momos.

I’ve had several plates. Veg Momos 7 Rupees/Plate. Chicken 30 Ruppees/Plate

Retrieved via the Wayback Machine. Originally posted by Peter Griffin.

These are from the Mumbai Poetry Live evening.

John Agard

John Agard

Arundhathi Subramaniam

Ranjit Hoskote

Jerry Pinto in compere mode..

..and in poet mode, with jacket.

These are from Alyque Padamsee’s Unspoken Dialogues

Gary Richardson

Vivin Mathew Easo

Alyque Padamsee

Alyque Padamsee and some of the cast

The show-stealing puppies take centre stage

And some glimpses of the venue, at Azad Maidan

Rabbi, from a safe distance

Rabbi, closer up

Puppet Theatre

The “Joker” in the process of decapitating himself

The Pretty Girl.. who has an ugly man at the, ahem, other end.

A fellow-blogger switches to v-log mode.

Barefoot street kids eating leftover food from the stalls, and more affluent kids, with sports shoes and digicams, all enthralled by the puppets

The Street and the food

The chaat stall at one of those rare moments when it wasn’t beseiged by hungry mobs

After the ball is over

Most of Bombay’s gone home to get ready for Monday morning, but he has work to do now

Empty tables

McD’s. Trashed, apparently.

As chairs are stacked around them, stragglers grab a last bite

Much antacid was sold that night

The Dance stage comes down

This panel just missed braining me

Even as the last revellers eat and shop, a truck backs in to load up the equipment.

Retrieved via the Wayback Machine. Originally posted by Harini Calamur

Kala Ghoda is a foodies delight. The food stalls probably equalled the art stalls - and definitely gathered more crowds. When one of the hoardings for the festival used this motif - i don’t think that they realised how much food was going to be an integral part of the show.

And people enjoyed the variety. A number of restraunts in the area - Chetnas and Bombay Blues - put out outdoor stalls to attract a fairly ravenous crowd. A friend of mine, who lives in the area, said that he hadn’t seen so many people try out so much food in such a short period of time. It was great stuff. And the cleanliness the area was so great, as was the absence of a million odd flies - that even people who otherwise wouldn’t risk street food gravitated towards it.

Mouth watering kulfi - rasberry was a particular favourite. I was unadventurous and stuck to malai. which was a generous portion. Almost a complete meal in itself.

The chaat stalls saw rapid business too. Crowds thronged to sample the paani puri, sev and bhel puri.

And of course no street festival can be complete without a beverages sponsor. And for this one it was Pepsi. There was pepsi everywhere. This particular graphic, i found particularly amusing.

The dosa and Chaat menu under a pepsi logo is a true sign of global brands becoming part of the Indian culturescape. That and MacD’s presence. Afterall culture is not static, fossilized in time. In today’s day and age - they are as much part of our culture as anything else is. And it is nice to see organisers who are sensible about these things.

Retrieved via the Wayback Machine. Originally posted by Dilip D’souza

7pm: Rabbi. So says the KGAF schedule for Sat Feb 11, and since I live in a household of Rabbi fanatics, this is a must-see, especially give its kid-friendly time. Still, I think I should try to confirm that this is not a priest getting up to sing songs, or maybe a group named for a furry hoppity animal and they forgot the last letter in the schedule, or even the previous Chief Minister of Bihar crooning for KGAF and they mis-spelled her name. I think I should confirm that this is indeed the Rabbi of the eponymous album.

So I call the Festival hotline. This 7pm Rabbi show, I ask, is that Rabbi Shergill? “One minute”, says a nervous womanly voice. Much whispering and shouting and general crowd sounds - this hotline is answered in the open smack in the middle of Kala Ghoda - and several minutes pass, and a guy comes to the phone and asks me “What do you want?” Patience wearing thin, I repeat my question. He practically laughs in my ear. “No no! It’s not Rabbi Shergill! It’s that fellow who sings Bulla ki jaana!”

Anyway.

We get down to Kala Ghoda by just before 6pm, by which time I’ve seen my T-shirt slogan of the day, on a young lady crossing the road. “Han Some Women”, it says.

First order of business is a pencil portrait of my son. Meanwhile, Vikrum pushes his way through the crowd to run into us, doing a passable imitation of some quick-marching jawans he watched at close quarters last week. A little later Gregory Roberts, author of Shantaram, strides past and Vikrum has a short chat with him, interrupted by autograph-seeking swooners.

I note that the stall we buy candy-floss from also has available Chaineese Paittice, Chaineese Bhel and Caremal Popcorn.

We buy a dabba - you know, one of those things that dabbawallas carry, with food inside? - for several hundred rupees. Oh yes, it also tells time. This is true.

Some time after 7pm, we bundle ourselves into a cab and zoom over to Azad Maidan. Rabbi, here we come!

Only, they’ve switched the schedule. Indian Ocean was supposed to play after Rabbi, at 8pm. Instead, they have kicked off the evening, and Rabbi will play later. This is a great pity, for two reasons. First, Rabbi will now come on at a decidedly kid-unfriendly time, so we won’t be able to stay to hear him. Second, Indian Ocean is - how can I put this kindly - awful. I mean, it’s like a wall of sound, made up of interminable guitar riffs, drum riffs, more guitar riffs, on and on.

You three IO fans out there, don’t come after me.

So we rush hastily out of Azad Maidan, into the little food alley right there. This is where you get the world’s best kala-khatta. Same place also serves, going by the menu, “lemon juice”, “pineapple juice”, “white rose juice” and “sekonjbin juice.”

No thanks, I’ll stick with kala-khatta.

And then we retire across the alley to “Nagesh’s World China Town” for some non-veg fast food. Nagesh has one of those only-in-Bombay addresses: “near Jhunka Bhakar”. I want to find the establishments that are “near idli-dosa”, or “near hamburger and fries”.

And to still-blaring notes and riffs from IO, we find Nagesh’s menu has plenty to offer.

There is a “Chicken Dargon Special” soup. Mmm-hmm!

Under “Rice so Nice”, there is both “Veg Tripple Schez Rice” and “Chicken Tripple Schez Rice.” Both “Veg Wrong Rice” and “Chicken Wrong Rice”. Under “Manchurian”, there is both “Veg Wrong-Chilly” and “Chicken Wrong-Chilly”.

(Yeah, if they give me the food chilly, it would be pretty wrong).

All through my meal, I’m watched closely by two cats, two dogs and three street kids, all asking in their own particular ways for my food. And all through my meal, Indian Ocean blasts away tunelessly. Think they might benefit from a dose of Veg Wrong Rice.

Comments

Comment by Vikrum on February 13, 2006 @ 1:28 pm

Dilip,

Thanks for the hilarious write up. It was a great night, and it was also a wrong night. They should have had some jawans marching instead of Indian Ocean. I would have been there. I would have videotaped it. And watched it over and over again.

Retrieved via the Wayback Machine. Originally posted by Manisha Lakhe

‘parikrama is the hottest indian band! it’s a must-see! and zero does original stuff!’

i received so many smses on my phone that i agreed to be fodder to the gazillion mosquitoes that would be present in an open air situation. armed with odomos, and determined to stand in front of the speakers (with the slight hope that some of the lower frequencies might repel the parasites) i landed at kala ghoda in time to have chaat before the concert began.

the chaat was spicy. so one turned to Annu Parmar Kulfi. the kulfi was so good, it cried out for detailed tasting. and when i realised that a smorgasbord of kulfi was not enough, i was compelled to, in the name of honest blogging (this excuse for gluttony has been copyrighted now), eat a full plate each of all the kulfis.

;)

there was Malai, Kesar Pista, Malai Pista, Dry Fruits Kulfi, Mango, Matka, Chikoo, Strawberry (or was it raspberry), half liberally laced with the most delicious rabdi, and half eaten without the topping. i have never liked falooda so i denied myself that pleasure. after all, one has to think of ones weight and all that.

‘where are you?’

oh! an sms. from azad maidan. am in the middle of licking a plate, happily ignoring people who are gawking at me as if i were a live art installation. hmm.i wish i had a hat, could have made money to cover kulfi costs.but do i care? there’s one more flavor to try.

‘where the heck are you?’

i use my left pinky to sms back a request to friends to stand near the speakers so i can find them when i am done here.

the gawkers are giggling now. i glare at a few, but stack my plates just so it does not seem like i might need an ambulance to take me away.

the kulfi guy seemed to be enjoying the circus, because the portions got larger with every buy.

when i finally stopped getting the smses, i realised that i had overdone the tasting thing.

besides the kulfi guy now suggested i try them all again with falooda.

i bumped into the Time-out magazine horses, and asked for directions to azad maidan.

i totter over on a sugar high towards the general direction of the and find that the last scene from Monty Python’s Meaning of Life is looping in my head. i head home in a cab.