Adhi Potoba

I just returned from a short trip to Pune. It had been a long three and a half years since my last visit. No matter where your life takes you, it’s always nice to come back home, even if it’s for a short visit. Of course, having to pass through Mumbai traffic makes you question your return immediately. This time, however, I was shocked and disappointed to come home. Pune has changed beyond recognition and is no longer the city where I grew up. Huge buildings have replaced the small bungalows. And a lot of the infrastructure is in a state of disrepair. The air is intolerable, the noise unbearable and the traffic situation — let’s just not go there. And what is up with the ringtones people? Isn’t there a phone that rings like one? I guess we can’t go back after half a decade and expect things to be the same. But it would be nice, wouldn’t it? In spite of all the change I tried to visit all my favourite spots — at least the ones that are still standing. But no matter how much it changes, ...

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 ...