Skip to main content

How to have a gastronomic week (and inch closer to a heart attack)

Note: Something I wrote awhile back. But holds good for the numerous gastronomic weeks that I have so unabashedly participated in. 

You see, I suffer from multiple personality disorder when it comes to food. I forget what I have eaten a few minutes back, and gorge until I regain my senses. And go at it again. This particular week was a tad unusual in a sense that every other day, my circulatory system was subject to an array of food items that tested my condition (and digestive capabilities) severely.

So here is a gist of my gastronomic week:

Arrived in Chennai on Friday night and promptly headed to Murugan idli for breakfast the next day. The idlis are like cotton, served with 4 chutneys, namely coconut, pudina, tomato, methi and sambar to go with that. After gleefully wolfing down the idli vada, it was time for ghee roast. Equally sumptuous, it would be safe to say I followed the first precinct of healthy eating – eat breakfast like a king (or two). 

Come Sunday night, it was time for a feast at this hotel called Deccan Plaza in Royapetta, Chennai. Unknown to us, a Punjabi food festival, Amritsari, was in the offing, and the spread read like a wish list of the what’s what of Punjabi cuisine.

A few dishes that come to mind are sarson ka sang, dum aloo, jeera rice, palak gosht, a few Jain items, mini samosas, dal makhni. The sweet spread was even sweeter - lassi, rabri, jalebi, carrot halwa, peda, besan laado, kulfi. The mentioned dishes were about half the items that were on spread. So the gorging went on, until I realized I may have many minds, but not many stomachs, and had to call it a day. 

On returning to Bangalore, we headed to Maiya's in Jayanagar for dinner. But as we discovered, there is no such thing as al la carte in this place. 

It was all unlimited. And we were left wondering why the waiters never stopped serving us. Poori sagu, rice, puliyogare, rasam, sambhar, papad, chips,some fried items, some three sweets and topped off with ice cream and fruit salad. I gave up the good fight against fighting human craving. The week also reflects my struggles with time disorientation. I ate every other meal like a king.

In order to atone for my sins of gluttony that I so uninhibitedly committed, it is time to make amends. On my next visit to the library, these are the two books I have been advised to pick up.

1) Dr Dean Ornish - Program for reversing heart disease

2) Dr Kenneth H Coopers - Controlling cholesterol

Until the next gastronomic week presents itself, Bon Appetit.


Popular posts from this blog

When an Iyer met an Iyengar

If you see my parents, they look like the quintessential arranged marriage couple. After nearly 35 years together, they still take care not to touch each other while posing for a photograph and my mother’s smile dangles precariously between a smile and a grimace. But this image discolours the truth a tad.
Some 40 years back, they met at work, fell in love and got married. The talking point of the union being mom’s status as an iyengar and dad’s as an iyer. Simply put, the iyers and the iyengars are two castes of the Brahmin community, each, when given the chance, profess superiority to each other on all counts. If you listen closely, an Iyengar talking about an Iyer will say ‘Iyer a?’ in a condescending tone. And vice versa.
Mom tells me that when she told her dad about the marriage, he vowed to stand by her at any cost. Dad never told me what happened, but allow me to hazard a guess. His mother (my grandmother), threatened to go on a fast unto death. My dad threatened to go on a parall…

Unfair and unlovely

If time is money, the demonetization drive has ensured that many Indians are already very rich because they have suddenly been taught the virtue of patience.
A crossing near my house got to be very busy and a new signal was installed to help regulate the flow. Every single day, I see people break the signal from all sides without paying heed to their safety or anyone else’s. The people who break the signals glare at you for following the rules. You feel guilty for being patient.
The signal is red and people behind you are honking as if there was a reward for it. People shout the choicest of epithets at you for not moving and standing your ground. Either that or I need to go for an eye check up and see if I am colour blind. In another part of the world, orange maybe the new black but as far as I know, red is not the new green.
Stand in a queue at the railway station, in the petrol bunk, airport check-in counter ,or to pay a bill, and there will always be that one asshole who tries to…

Rasam rice

On some days, Bangalore weather becomes nostalgic. And for some time, everyone is permitted to live in the past. On one such June day, the sun wistfully playing hide and seek and the clouds emitting just enough raindrops for an instagram photo, the weather flirting with winter, the craving for rasam becomes telling.
Rasam. Rasam rice. Whichever, doesn’t matter.
First, use your fingers to make space in the middle of a heap of rice. Don’t protest when the dollop of ghee gleefully sinks into the rice. The rasam should scald, otherwise the ride isn’t worth it. The flesh on your fingers crawl when you dip them into the rasam, but trust me, keep with it. No good thing has been known to ever come easy. The impatient wait for a few seconds and an insignificant morsel is savoured. Gooseflesh ensues.
Slowly but steadily, bigger portions are savoured. to enhance the experience and attain nirvana, combine it with crisp papad and sandige.  Personal favourites include molagu rasam, thakkali rasam, jee…