My World of Food and Travel

I had come across this recipe in a favourite TV show of mine on Fox Traveller channel – ‘Food Safari’. The husband frequently asks me why I watch it, even the repeat telecasts of episodes. “I love knowing about different countries, their food culture and cuisines,” I reply stoically, keeping my eyes fixed on the TV. He would give up and go back to the comforts of his own laptop. Sometimes I could hear him mutter things like I-thought-I-was-lucky-to-have-a-wife-who-doesn’t-watch-serials-and-now-I-have-one-who-watches-food-shows.  One such day, I was engrossed in watching an episode on Indian cuisine when he walked past the TV with a grimace and then stopped. The chef was making Hyderabadi Chicken. Later, that weekend, as I was about to prepare lunch, he asked me  sotto voce if I would cook that chicken from that show.  “What chicken, what show?” I asked him, enjoying my position every bit. “You know, that show you watch, where someone keeps cooking and everyo...

This was not how I had envisaged my first post after Christmas. I had grand plans of putting up a picture of an herb-roasted chicken with the title ‘Chicken roast for a merry Christmas’ or something like that. But thanks to someone , someone who reads my blog and is accountable for the shopping, it did not happen. That particular someone conveniently forgot to get the whole chicken required for the roast and brought cut pieces instead. And he insisted that I never told him about the roast. Okay, before this rant turns more sarcastic, let me concentrate on the food. Perhaps that shall calm me down. So, my plans crashed and I had to improvise on the chicken. I shall put up a post later on the chicken recipe. Now, my original Christmas menu included a vegetarian dish of methi paneer (cottage cheese with fenugreek leaves), a dish I had been wishing to make ever since I read it on P’s blog (presentedbyp.blogspot.com). She is a fantastic cook and I trust each of her recipes. Unf...

Another Sunday is drawing to a close, and palpitations have already set in. Another hectic week is staring balefully in the eye. Every Sunday evening, I hug the baby close.  One more week of day-time separation till the weekend comes. I wonder how the weekend manages to fly by! Weekends, during my growing up years, saw me at my laziest best. I was always the one at home who would wake up late, the last one to take bath and people would generally find me constantly either watching the idiot box or reading a book. My years in Mumbai as a single girl in a hostel spoilt me further. I had no house chores to perform or any other commitments. My sister, who had a working Saturday, would say good bye to me at around 7.30 am. I don’t remember opening my eyes or waving back at her. I would wake up leisurely at 8.30 – 8.45 am and leave for the multiplex near my hostel. And while reclining back comfortably to enjoy an English flick, I would sip my multiplex-bought coffee and munch ...