Adhi Potoba

The cold and cough season has affected our house severely. Mostly on account of the cretins on my commute that use the subway as their own personal Petri dish. The cough has been especially rough on Scanlynn. I on the other hand have been bred on the fine air in Pune city with an S.P.M. count of over 150. As we entered the 4th day of our seasonal suffering, I remembered a concoction my ayurvedic doctor would prescribe. I would take most of what my vaidya prescribed with a pinch of salt. Not to mention the fact that some of his prescriptions actually required a pinch of salt. But I remembered that he had given me a recipe for a cough tea that could be taken if you were looking for a non-chemical alternative to calming the tickles in your throat. It was a good change from regular tea, and it did the job. And as a bonus it is herbal and all natural. Ingredients 4 cups water 3 tsp grated ginger 1 stick cinnamon 10 cloves of cardamom 3 cloves 1/2 tsp black peppercorns (crushed) 1/4 tsp nut

Growing up I had always been attracted to red foods. I could never really understand this fascination, but a red curry always seemed more appetizing than a green curry. Beets seemed more attractive than cucumbers. I never gave it much thought till I came across a research paper done by our friends at the TWBA / Chiat Day agency for their client, Heinz ketchup. Apparently, this is a very common phenomenon and not as I thought, one more of my many irritating habits. A plate of food where the central item is red always looks appetizing. This is because the eye associates the colour red with many appealing things. Freshly killed meat and blood. An abundance of blood in one’s body also signifies good health. And thus the eye looks for this colour on a plate. I just wish that I could’ve known these facts when I was young. It would’ve made refusing some rather unappealing dishes that mom tried to shove down our throats easier. It also explains my disdain for all things green. Like this Palak

I have been meaning to pay a visit to the motherland for over a year now. Unfortunately, due to work constraints, it’s just not happening. And when it does happen, it will be an extremely short visit and I won’t be able to do all the things I have planned. Of course, the one thing I am dreading about going back is the breakfast, lunch and dinner engagements. As any sojourner making a return visit to India knows, you can’t leave unless you have consumed food with all your obscure relatives. And the funniest part is that they expect you to eat platefuls of stuff for breakfast knowing fully well that you have to be somewhere for lunch in a couple of hours. And this almost always means that I will be eating less of mom’s cooking. The simple, homemade comfort food I so desperately need. Like matar khichadi with lots of ghee and papad. Ingredients 1 1/2 cup Green Peas 1 cup Rice 1/2 tsp Mustard Seeds 1 Onion grated 2 tsp Goda Masala 1/2 tsp cumin powder 1/2 tsp Dhania 1 tsp Turmeric 1 tsp Ch

Scanlynn and I recently paid a visit to a local South Indian eatery here on Curry Hill by the name of Tiffinwallah . It's a charming little place with a homey feel and decorated with 3-tier tiffins. It immediately brought back memories of school and my dabba wallah . As I tried explaining the concept of the Tiffinwallah to Scanlynn, I realized that the Indian tiffin delivery system that I didn’t think twice about was such an elaborate and complicated ordeal. The New York Times recently had a big article about the Tiffinwallahs of Mumbai and their FedEx like precision delivery systems. This article does more justice to it than anything I can ever say about it. And all this fuss just so that people like myself that too lazy to go down during lunch hour can get hot, home cooked lunches at their desks at work (or school). Although my dabba wallah at school operated at a much smaller scale, he did cater to about 100 students. One of my pet peeves about my dabba was getting watery cu

Since my move to Sunnyside, Queens I have been spoilt by a neighbourhood blessed with some really good restaurants. One of my favourite restaurants is a Turkish restaurant out on Queens Blvd. My girlfriend, who has spent considerable amount of time in Turkey, loves visiting our local Turkish Grill . Her favourite dish there is the red lentil soup, which I admit is really, really good. However, the only thing it misses is the burning sensation that can only come from excess spice. And that as we all know is the one thing a ‘pucca’ Puneri needs. I recently attempted to ‘Indianize’ this soup and the results turned out pretty good. Not to mention the cheap brownie points, since this can be done in a healthy 'organic' fashion. Ingredients 1 cup Red Lentils 1 Onion shredded 2 cups Vegetable Stock 2 tsp Butter 1/2 tsp Chili Powder 1/4 tsp Cumin Salt to taste Method In a pot heat the butter and add onions Heat the onions till they are light brown Add chili powder and cumin and stir Add

For students in Pune, especially those that have passed their SSC, the ones that are in the final year of their degree courses and everyone in between, hanging around spending entire evenings doing nothing is a big part of life. My immediate circle of 40 odd vagabonds such as myself had chosen a particular corner of town when we were 16 where we would waste a major part of the next 12 years of our lives. It was a small “ paanwala ”. For those unfamiliar with the concept of a paanwala , it is a shack, which sells beetle leaves and loose cigarettes. , a staple for said age group. Our Paan Tapri stood proudly next to a run down hotel, Village Corner. Village Corner had changed hands faster than coalition governments in Delhi till it finally shut down one day. The little cigarette shop however stands proudly to this day as the hotel that would’ve given it business stands in a state of utter disrepair. We would park our respective two wheelers next to the Paan shop and blowing hot air that

I was always intrigued by the old ads for Monaco biscuits with their nicely decorated toppings. I, on the other hand, dipped my Monacos in my tea till my cup became a soggy, salty, inedible mess. I wasn't aware that Monaco was a salty cracker and didn't always have to be consumed with one's tea. (Of course, when you drink your tea on a two-wheeler parked under a tree, you dunk whatever is available in your tea.) In the ads the Monacos were usually decorated with strange, colourful toppings, although I had never really seen one pass by on a tray of hors d'oeuvres at a party. Not so long ago, I happened to be on the Parle Monaco website where they featured Monaco wallpapers for your computer. Why? I had to take a peek and I must share this ad / wallpaper with everyone. And as a professional in advertising I couldn't help but laugh at it. Considering the fact that no one outside of India would've even heard of Monaco, this ad must be for Indian audiences. It fea

Keli chya baaga maama chya. Pivlya ghaada ni vakaychya. If you were in an English medium school and Marathi was a second language, you'd remember this poem from your Bal Bharati text book in Std II. It was a poem about the poet's uncle who apparently had some large banana plantations. The poem goes on to describe the how each member of the family tended to the banana plants and it all climaxed in a domestic orgy of Shikran. One may conclude that the uncle's family really, really loved their bananas. Had this poem come in at a slightly later year I am sure one of the pupils would have surely questioned such a banana centric lifestyle. Actually, it was a very sweet poem and whenever I think of Shikran, I cannot help but think of the nicely illustrated yet slightly exaggerated banana plants weighed down by large clusters of ripe yellow bananas. A well prepared bowl of Shikran never fails to transport me back to my mom's kitchen where she'd serve me Shikran and chapatt

At the far end of Apte Road lies a tin shed that looks like the aftermath of an eager pyromaniac's unsuccessful experiments. This is the legendary Santosh bakery and the last time I saw it, the walls inside were black from being baked all day, everyday for the last couple of decades. I have fond memories of Santosh Bakery growing up. I remember my dad on his way back from work would make a stop at Santosh Bakery to bring home some hot vegetable pattice. The evening batch would come out at exactly 5:00 p.m. and there would be a huge line to get your hands on a dozen of these bad boys. The veg pattice (not to be confused with meat patties) is a spicy vegetable mixture in a puff pastry. The one thing I absolutely loved about Santosh Bakery was that it appealed to all classes. It was really nice to see a bullock cart parked behind a Mercedes. And their respective drivers standing close to the furnace in the hot Indian sun, in a line where they are all the same. Santosh Bakery serves so

If there's one thing the great city of Pune lacks, it's a beach and an abundance of fresh seafood. Sure there are a few fish markets and some scattered fish mongers , but the seafood is always expensive and unless you're really tight with the fish monger, not really that great. This would also explain the lack of good seafood restaurants in Pune. Growing up, I couldn't recall a single restaurant that was known for great fish. But in the last two years that I still lived in Pune, a restaurant by the name of Kalinga had just opened it's doors on the small road whose only claim to fame was a quick access to the Mhatre Bridge . A restaurant that tried too hard with a seating capacity of 500 and was decorated with baroquean excess . Hopefully they've toned down the decorations a bit. The only saving grace to this eyesore was the great food. And great seafood. During my limited number of visits to Kalinga I had the only acceptable prawn curry served to me in any res

In Maharashtra the word Pavta is slang for a village simpleton. Or more precisely a term used by city folk to describe a simple person from a village who has moved to the city. Someone who sticks out like a sore thumb. Much like the wonderful people in Times Square who are not locals. Moving at their own pace, always looking up in awe at the tall buildings. It is also the Marathi word for Lima Bean. The Lima Bean we get at home is much smaller than the one found here in the US. Each bean is no bigger than the nail on your little finger. It also packs more flavour. Probably because most of the vegetables available in our markets in India are locally grown. Pavta was a staple in my mother's kitchen and she'd always a maintain a bag of fresh beans in her fridge. Pavta usal (stir-fried Lima Bean) was something she cooked very often. It was a quick, easy and delicious meal and I found it in my tiffin almost every week. For some reason none of the restaurants I know served Lima Bean

I followed the one day international between India and England all day today and once again in true Indian fashion the 'Men in Blue' snatched defeat from the jaws of victory. If I had a dime for every time the Indian team let me down this way, I wouldn't be here writing this blog. Back home, news like is taken seriously and involves hours of pointless analysis over tea, rum or some comfort food. This analysis is usually done by people whose latest cricketing experience has been stumps drawn on a wall by means of a broken brick. A bat with a bare handle because the rubber went missing within the first week. And an MRI faux tennis ball that used to be some some what white when it was bought. And yes—the grand rule of 'one tuppa out'. Ah, I miss being a drawing room cricketeer. The absence of someone who even knows what cricket is, leave alone understands it, is really hard on a depressed fan such as myself. So today, I decided to make some comfort food for myself tha

It was the early nineties and the ladies had just started noticing the dating potential of yours truly. It was also a time when 'pubs' had just started turning up in the 411001 pin code. Black Cadillac (which is now closed) and Ten Downing Street with their 200 Rupee cover charge were the first to arrive. I have always been a non-drinker, but for some reason ladies would always insist on visiting the pubs. Even the ones that couldn't hold down their gimlets to save their lives. For a reasonably broke person such as myself, the 200 Rupee cover charge was a bit steep and left little to spend in the way of dinner. Thankfully, there was one great option, just down the street. Hip enough and cheap, too. Steaming hot, authentic Punjabi parathas at Nandu's. Crisp, flaky, cheap and downright delicious. Seating was optional and the waiter would bring your order right up to you. Whether you were parked in a car or just standing by on the footpath. One of the 15 varieties of par

Before I left Pune, one of my favourite spots to hang out on a lazy evening was the Pune University fountain. This spot was especially fun during the brief Pune winters as it served great, hot food. What started as three small carts when I was in Std X had become a mini Chowpatty in just a couple of years. (Not to be confused with the mini Chowpatty near Farazkhana). You could find all kinds of food here to match your mood and budget. Chinese, Vada Pav , Pav Bhaji , Dosas and last but not least, awesome Egg Bhurji. The fact that there was a steady traffic of pretty, young girls coming to enjoy the lively atmosphere didn't hurt business either. I loved hot bhurji at Univ. fountain on a crisp winter evening. One egg, onions, tomatoes, questionable oil, spiced to perfection and served with 'pavs'. Heaven for 3.00 Rupees (approximately 7 cents). I remember spending many an evening with my friends at the University Fountain watching the St Joseph's girls returning from Hock

Some of the best restaurants in Pune are successful because they satisfy the three following conditions—great food, low prices and proximity to a ladies hostel or college. As someone most of whose friends included hostelites, eating out was huge. And Fergusson College road with it's many cheap eats was a hot destination. In the early 90s a Chinese restaurant, China Garden, popped up on F.C. road that satisfied all of the above conditions and then some. Situated on the corner of that nameless street between Roopali and Vaishali that meets F.C. road at an angle it was a heaven sent for gourmands. The greatest part of this restaurant was that it's front part was a restaurant and the back half, a car garage. So you could feast on some spicy chicken lollipops as you waited for your car tune up. This tiny restaurant had a seating capacity of 8 tables, provided it wasn't raining. Then it was down to only 5. If you came in a car, the food would come to your car. My favourite dish

My girlfriend and I visited the Sapphire Indian restaurant on Broadway at Lincoln Center in New York. After the meal, as the waiter asked us for our dessert selections, my girlfriend ordered a Kashmiri Naan with Masala Chai. The waiter turned to me to convey a "What the fuck?" look. And I responded promptly with a "Dude, don't even get me started" look. Anyway, my girlfriend really, really likes the Kashmiri naan which is traditionally made from enriched white flour, which is nasty. I thought I'd try making a healthier version for her using whole wheat chapatti flour. I'm not so sure that the FDNY is comfortable with me having a Tandoor oven, so I had to use a tawa. Turns out, it tastes even better. Especially, if you top it with a generous amount of ghee. Ingredients For Atta (dough) 
2 cups Chappati atta (finely ground wheat flour) 
1/2 tsp Salt, 
1 tsp oil 
1/2 cup Milk 
Warm Water For Filling 1/2 cup Raisins 1/4 cup Pistachio 1/4 cup Almond 1/2 cup C

After securing a less than adequate percentage in my foundation examination during my first year of art school, I was faced with a dilemma. Bribe someone with a lot of money at the school or bribe someone with a little money at the state level and have them direct the school to accept me in the program of my choice for very little money. The second option although the natural choice was easier said than done. It involved traveling to Bombay and dealing with the red tape at the Directorate of Art in the J.J School of Art compound. Of course, after a little research, I did find someone who was willing to push some paper for a little grease on the palms. And since said transaction couldn't be done in broad day light, he suggested I meet him in front of V.T. station at lunch time. There are a number of small food stalls that sell delicious food on the footpath opposite V.T. station, so that was a good option. We met at a man selling vegetable sandwiches out of a cart. 'Indian Club

If you are a Puneite and not on a first name basis with the waiters at Vaishali, it is safe to say that you're not a cool as you think you are. Hotel Vaishali is the crowning jewel of Fergusson College Rd (and for many years the Sun around which my life revolved). Sure there are many important landmarks on that road, like Fergie itself, or maybe the Ranade institute, but nothing says FC Road like Vaishali. The restaurant where our fathers, and grandfathers grew old, no doubt leering at young unsuspecting girls just as their sons and grandsons would. Where many a relationship started and ended. Deals worth lacs of Rupees are initiated and finalized. Vaishali is not just a restaurant. For generations, it has been a way of life. Vaishali is nothing without it's permanent fixtures. The people who are always there no matter what time of day or night. If you've been a Vaishali regular in the past 20 years and are not close friends with one Mr.Uday Sanas, you really haven't em

In my unequal struggle with Hindi during Std X I had an earth shattering 15 1/2 marks combined in my first unit test, terminals and prelimins. My father concerned at my progress or lack thereof did the only thing a responsible Indian parent can do — looked for Hindi coaching classes. After much begging the Hindi teacher at St. Loyola's agreed to let me and two of my friends join his class of Hindi challenged pupils. We were thrown out of class on the very first day on account of laughing at a logo on the teacher's polo shirt. It was laughing buddha styled monkey, so it was a no brainer. Getting thrown out of class was a very common thing for vagabond students such as myself and one desperately needed a place to park in such an event. In Model Colony at the edge of Shirke's Sugarcane Farm, they had cleared 10000 sq. ft. of land and put some tables and bamboo chairs. And at one end there was a shed with a sugarcane juice machine. One Rupee for a tall, cold one. In this case

Most of my friends through my twenties were big rum & coke drinkers. And great thing about having a solid 'pettad' as a friend is that whenever you go out, there are always great appetizers on the table. One of the more popular watering holes in Pune back in the early 90's was Pinnacle in Chandani Chowk. If one can remember that far back, Chandani Chowk was a place people went to get out of the city, stand at the pinnacle, enjoy some fresh air and a great view of the city from the top of the hill. At that point, Pinnacle was still trying to attract customers with low prices and a sit-as-long-as-you-want policy for drinkers. As a result, the average young drinker on a shoestring budget could manage to go beyond the masala peanuts for drinking snacks. Some drinking snacks like Chicken Manchurian Dry , Fish Koliwada and Masala Papad continue to be the favourites. My favourite was the Tawa Prawns. Fresh jumbo prawns spiced and stir-fried to perfection. Today, the city of P

No trip to Pune is complete without a visit to Marzorin . It is situated on Main Street in Camp in a tiny little shop three steps above everyone else. Back in the 80s when I used to frequent Marzorin, they had a very short menu. 4 types of sandwiches. 5 types of drinks and a few pastries here and there. Today, Marzorin is a huge 2 story restaurant with a fairly complex menu. My favourite food at Marzorin is still by far the little triangular chicken sandwich. I have tried every possible combination of chicken, spreads and bread to make it taste like the Marzorin. I have come up with many recipes in the process, but the Marzorin combination still eludes me. Here's one of my favourites. Ingredients 1 cup Grilled Chicken, very finely chopped 8 slices Whole Wheat Bread 1/2 cup Butter 1/4 cup Cream Cheese 1/4 tsp Black Pepper Salt to taste Method Saute grilled chicken with pepper and salt with little oil Whisk cream cheese and butter till they are completely mixed Apply mixture generou

By the time I was in the 7th standard, I along with a few neighbourhood kids had perfected the art of making a good potato chip. Known in this country as the French Fry or in the fly over states as Freedom Fries (sad, isn't it?). In India young boys are always discouraged from carrying experiments in the kitchen. As a children of parents who were busy and away from home most of the day, my friends and I found the kitchens at our disposal during the afternoons. We would have potato chip parties between games of 'galli' cricket . It involved everyone stealing 2 potatoes from home and maybe some oil. Stealing oil from the oil dispenser on the kitchen counter was a rookie mistake that would get caught. Only the seasoned potato chipper knew to steal directly from the 15 litre Postman dabba as a few missing cups wouldn't be detected. The loot would then be gathered at one of the kitchens where peeling and cutting began. As a measure to increase the number of chips per potato,

Varan Bhat is to a Maharashtrian what rice and beans are to our Mexican friends. This is the one dish that for some reason never tastes as good in a restaurant as it does at home. More so for lunch than diner. And if you nail the combination of the dal, salt, lemon and ghee at the first helping, just stop. The second helping will never taste as good. A good batch of dal is probably the second yardstick for judgement that the mother-in-law uses against the new bride after the roundness of a chapati . Here's to a start to a good finger licking lunch. Ingredients 1 cup Toor Dal (pigeon peas) 2 tsp Oil 1 tsp Turmeric 1/2 tsp Cumin Powder 1/2 tsp Asafoetida 2 cups water Salt to taste Lemon, sliced 1 tsp Ghee Method In a pressure cooker cook the pigeon peas till they are completely soft and almost dissolved. (If you don't have a pressure cooker, boil in a pot till cooked.) Set aside. In a pot, heat the oil. Add cumin and asafoetida and allow to cook in the oil. Add turmeric and then

I have always associated corn with the monsoon season. Before the weather patterns on the Deccan plateau shifted the first showers would show up by mid-May. It was just around the time when we would be busy putting brown paper covers on new text books for school and enjoying that new book smell. It also meant that summer vacation was in its last three weeks. As the rains started drenching the parched earth, children in my neighbourhood would run out to collect mangoes that would've fallen as a result of the rains . As the victorious returned with shirts full of muddy bounty, aayi would have hot cups of chai waiting for us. Along with Glucose biscuits and roasted corn or stir-fried corn. The 4'o clock chai on a rainy afternoon is something I miss dearly. Ingredients 2 cups of Corn kernels 1/2 tsp Mustard Seeds 1/2 tsp Sugar 1/2 tsp Turmeric 1/2 tsp Chili powder 1 tbsp Butter Salt to taste Method Heat butter in a pot and add mustard seeds Add corn and saute Add sugar, turmeric

Back in the early 90's, when my friends were at the peak of their drinking form, Green Park on Baner Road was a popular watering hole. Although it was designed and advertised as a family restaurant, most of it's patrons were young and middle-aged men who were used to drinking Old Monk by the quarter. Even though the food at Green Park was extremely delicious, it was always secondary as most of their customers weren't sober enough to appreciate the food or for that matter remember it the next day. Having been a non-drinker all my life, I had the pleasure of sampling almost everything on the Green Park menu and remembering it long enough to write about it. One of their lesser known dishes (and one of my favourites) was mutton roast. A succulent piece of lamb shank breaded and grilled to perfection in a tandoor oven and served with 3 wedges of roasted potatoes and a mint dipping sauce. From what I hear, Green Park has been completely renovated with a swimming pool, a kids play

Our convent school was never really equipped for taking large number or students on trips and whenever an attempt was made it was an utter disaster that made for some really great memories. One of the great features of these overnight trips was that the food would be prepared by the students themselves. A great idea in theory. But not when the cooks in question have barely mastered long division. Never a great selling point, but looking back the trips were fun. The destination was always a small sea side village or one of Shivaji's many forts. Or in some cases both. When I was in high school, we went on one such trip to Sindhudurg . Sindhudurg was Shivaji's invincible fort in the Arabian Sea a couple of miles from land. We set camp on the beach right opposite the fort. We attempted to cook on kerosene stoves , but it was a disaster. The chapatis were rock hard, the fish was burnt and everything has a strong aroma of kerosene. Eating this food was mandatory or you'd face th

There's no story to this dish. This is just a delicious dish my mom used to make. I just happened to make it the other day and thought I'd share. Ingredients 2 medium Potatoes cubed 2 large Brinjals (Eggplants) cubed 1 large Onion finely chopped 1 large Tomato finely chopped 1/2 cup Peanuts crushed 1 tsp Chili Powder 1 tsp Garam Masala 1 tsp Turmeric 1 tsp crushed Garlic 1/2 tsp Ginger paste 1/4 cup Olive Oil Salt to taste Method Heat oil in a pot and add garlic, ginger and onion. Sauté till onions are translucent and brown on the edges Add tomato and stir till it becomes a homogenous paste Add garam masala, turmeric, chili and stir Add potatoes and 1cup water Allow to boil till potatoes are cooked Add eggplant and boil till most of the water evapourates leaving a pasty sauce Add ground peanuts and keep stirring for 5 min Garnish with chopped cilantro Serve with Rice Bhakari or Naan This recipe is for Nupur's RCI June: Maharashtrian Cuisine!

Before pizza became a mainstream food in Pune, there were only a handful of places that made pizza. The place that was most famous for it's pizza in the pre-chain restaurant era was Supreme Pizza opposite Sambhaji Park on J.M. Road. Supreme's pizza was pretty much a slightly thicker version of Masala Papad that could scrape the roof of your mouth raw. The sauce was slightly modified Kissan ketchup and the cheese was Amul. For those of you who might not know, Amul is to cheese what Tofurkey is to Thanksgiving. The pizza was baked by arranging it in a small tawa like utensil and then shoved into this contraption that was pretty much like a Weber Grill, but not quite. But for whatever reason the Supreme pizza was delicious and one couldn't find parking for blocks around the small shack. I think Supreme is still around, but since the arrival of Pizza Hut, Domino's and some other Indian Pizza chains, the small family owned Supreme has lost the 'Supremacy'. Now, they

If there's any milkshake that's capable of bringing all your boys to the yard, it's probably the Good Night. Unfortunately, it will also put them to sleep as soon as they arrive at said yard. One of my favourite restaurants in Pune that I must've mentioned a million times here is Darshan. The juice and milkshake menu at Darshan went filled an entire section of the menu. The king of the shakes however was the Good Night. A dieters nightmare, this milkshake was so heavy that it would put you in a food coma within the hour. Hence the name. It was a mixture of whole milk, cream, chickoo, figs, dried fruit and nuts. Served in a tall beer mug and topped with homemade ice-cream and some shopped nuts for good measure. My other favourite part about the Darshan menu was a disclaimer on the first page which I am sure annoyed the waiters a lot. It simple stated "The person serving you is a needy student. Do not lower his morale by offering him a tip. Calling him brother or 

In the last 20 years, my family has had more weddings at Hotel Shreeyas than I care to remember. Coz' when one thinks of a nice romantic wedding, clearly the first thing that comes to mind is Shreeyas. My first memories of Shreeyas were going to have Thali there. 6 Rupees for a plateful of 12 odd items, 9 of which you'd would never touch. The unenthusiastic waiters would occasionally visit you to replenish your plates with food that could be described as tolerable at best. Still, Shreeyas never kept running out of loyal customers. My father was one of them. He took us there every so often and I would keep praying that they'd have the two things I could push down my gullet. Actually, the two things I did like at Shreeyas were the yellow potato bhaji and one delicious vegetable dish in a coconut sauce. I think it was Goan vegetable curry with a 'brahmini' twist. And I loved it. It made the trip to Shreeyas bearable. Ingredients 4 cups assorted vegetables chopped. (Bro

After I passed out of Abhinav Kala Mahavidyalaya in 96 and my visits to Bajirao Rd were limited to the telephone exchange. There are a number of things I miss about my old college neighbourhood. Places like Saras Baug, Hindustan Bakery and most of all Wadeshwar. On Bajirao Road right opposite the telephone exchange there is a small place called that sells the most delicious idlis you'll ever eat. You wouldn't come across it unless you knew of it as the actual place is on the first floor, almost 10 metres above the footpath. 90% of Wadeshwar's business comes from Idli-Sambar. Two hot idlis in a bowl with a generous helping of Sambar that came out of a tap. And back then it was all at a very reasonable price or 2 Rupees making it a highly sought after destination for cheap bastards like yours truly. It was also a great place to sketch as some really interesting, senior gentry from the ‘old city’ frequented the place. Really the sketching wasn't as interesting as watchi

I grew up on Prabhat Road and our park was Kamla Nehru Park or KNP, as the college kids that order their chai "one by two" called it. My fondest memories bhel are outside the large iron gate of KNP. Bhola bhel was our "bhelwala". No real reason, that's just the guy my mother would take us to. A balding man on the wrong side of fifty with a pushcart and a permanent burnt umber complexion from making bhel under the scorching Indian sun. His pushcart had a hand painted board that advertised Bhola Bhel next to an anatomically questionable picture of Shankar . The glass containers that contained the papri and rice puffs were adorned with fading pictures of Bollywood stars whose star had faded decades ago. He cut onion really fine with a speed that would put the finest Waring chopper to shame. With a thick handle bar mustache and a cheery disposition he never failed to make serious small talk, even with his youngest customers. And for 70 Paise (in 1978) he would

My girlfriend once asked me what we were having for dinner that night. "Baked Beans on Toast" I replied. I swear she threw up a little in her mouth. Naturally, she thought I was referring to the British version which, unless you're from there, doesn't sound that tempting. I, however, was referring to the Indian version. Like any other food, we just took it, spiced it up and voila — Baked Beans on toast, Indian style. I had my first Baked Beans on Toast at Darshan on Prabhat Rd which is pretty much a pizza on sliced bread with spicy bean paste instead of marinara sauce and finely chopped toppings. It's delicious! Ingredients 4 slices Sourdough Bread 1 can Black Beans drained 1 cup Green Gorbanzo beans (optional) 1 Capsicum (Green Bell Pepper) finely chopped 1 Onion finely chopped 1 Tomato finely chopped 1 cup Cheddar Cheese shredded 1/2 cup Cilantro 4 tsp Green Chutney 2 tbsp Olive Oil 1/2 tsp Adobo All Purpose Seasoning Method Heat olive oil in a wok and saute gor

In Pune, XI Std is pretty much a year of rest after the grueling SSC exams. As a fresh college student who could borrow my brother's M80 (if anyone remembers those) when he didn't need it I would always visit the Pune University fountain. It was a great hangout for guys my age as we could park our vehicles and to watch the St. Joseph's girls. Apparently, that was an extremely popular pastime. The University fountain (for those old enough to remember it) was the place to hangout for some cheap eats and fresh air. It was also a great place for love birds returning from their rendezvous behind the tall grass patches at Pashan Lake to stop for a quick bite. The mist from the 3 story tall fountain kept the area cool and fresh and the many stalls provided the good, cheap eats to good, cheap kids. Sweet corn soup one by two, Dosa, Bhurjee Pao, the mysterious blue van that provided hot vadas and parathas. Sadly, the University fountain was demolished by an over-zealous and most

Main St and East St in the Pune Cantonment area, besides being a great shopping neighbourhood, are a hot destination for foodies. Anyone going to camp will ritually stop at 3 places. Marz-O-rin for sandwiches. Budhani for wafers (Potato Chips) and Kayani Bakery for some bitchin' Shrewsbury biscuits. It's the perfect food trifecta that will put you into food coma. The Marz-O-rin chutney sandwiches are one of my favourite foods in the world. I have eaten chutney sandwiches at many restaurants, but none quite like Marz-O-rin. Marz-O-rin started as a small shop selling sandwiches and has become a Pune landmark. I remember ordering a platter or 8 sandwiches for Rs. 3.00. It was money well spent. 8 finger sandwiches with a glass of mango juice and you were in heaven. If you were smart, you would already have paid a visit to Budhani to purchase 100 gm. hot potato wafers straight out of the wok to go with your sandwiches. The great taste of the chutney sandwiches is due to a secre