My World of Food and Travel

I am really the queen of procrastination. My phone memory is full of pictures I had taken at random places I had dined in, with the hope that someday I will write reviews of those places, or maybe an article on at least the food if not the place. Sigh. The pictures are languishing in their own world. Also, I have this hopelessly bad habit of starting to write something and not finishing it. Guilt eats me away as I think of my trips made to Shillong, Wayanad, Chikmagalur, Bhadra WLS, Belur-Halebidu and repeat visits to other places.  Someday I plan to finish writing them. Just that I don’t know when. And then again, I don’t need to keep deadlines for my own blog, do I? I shall move at my own sweet pace… Today morning, I accidentally stumbled across my phone camera images, the ones from last year that I had downloaded into a folder. A few of them jumped out, calling for attention “Hellooo, plan on writing about me?” I took a long look, jogged my memory, salivated at the thought...

Kolkata has always been one of my favourite cities. I love the fact that it is a city of foodies, as passionate about their cuisine as they are about their litterateurs and heritage. It is a place I would never mind going back again, if only the heat and humidity were not so killing! A cornucopia of sounds and smells overwhelm me as I try to recall Kolkata. The clash and bang of ladles against woks, stirring up noodles, by the side of the street. The sizzle of caramelized onions and chicken on the griddle, the parathas and sauces, waiting in anticipation for a roll to be made. The enticing aroma of the Kolkata biryani, a far cry from its Hyderabadi counterpart, separated by the ubiquitous potato. The earthen tea cups, lying in attendance while a fierce adda or debate is going on regarding the economic situation of the state. If not the economy, then perhaps football, or KKR? I had been a regular visitor to Kolkata, thanks to my job, and I remember many a happy evening spent appre...