A fire and a dinner party

Our occasional London dining partner, good friend the Doctor Businesswoman and we have an unwritten pact. Whenever we are in London and our diaries match, she plans a dinner party. The object is that we go to her home and cook the meal for the dinner party. In the past we have had Kache Gosth Ki Biryani, Dhansakh and Kebabs with Brown Rice, Laganiya Sheekh (a Bohri Meatloaf) and so on. The way it works is we plan the meal jointly; send her an ingredient list in advance, she buys everything and we cook. She invites her pals, who over the years have become our pals too, she serves great wine and a jolly good time is had by all.

This time, following our cooking course in Goa, we decided that Pork Vindaloo would be the centre point of the meal. As a starter we would make Prawn `Chops’ or masala Prawns filled in a potato case – Prawn Pattice. Along with this we would have a Salad Nicoise with `Bombay Aloo’. Bombay Aloo of course does not exist in Bombay or India; it is a British dish which is a simple `Batata Chi Bhaaji’.

The party was on Friday 24^th October. So on Thursday the 23^rd we went the Doctor Businesswoman’s house and spent a good 6 hours cooking. I must say the fiddliest part of making the Prawn Pattice was painstakingly done by HRH the Queen of Kutch.

Once cooking was complete we went back to our apartment had showers opened our own bottle of wine put on some music and got  set for a relaxed Diwali evening. We had planned on cooking our own dinner that evening, Pork Chops with a Cider & Cream Sauce, Gnocchi and Boiled Broccoli. By 9.30pm, the Chops were marinating, the Stock for the sauce was reduced, the Cider added and reduced and kept ready but for the final addition of cream. Life was good, music was purring and we were nice and relaxed when suddenly the fire alarm went off. Horribly loud. I opened the room door and could smell the very strong acrid odour of electrical cables burning. I told HRH the Queen of Kutch to grab a shawl, I grabbed my jacket and we both left the apartment by the fire exit.

The complex was vacated. It was fairly cold out in the open. This was a genuine fire. Soon the London Fire Brigade arrived. The area was cordoned off and we were led to an assembly area. Here our names were taken and crossed off from the list the staff had. In the meanwhile, the staff had given the fire department the floor plans for the entire complex, each room, passages, corridors everything. We were told to go to the neighbouring hotel and wait. Drinks and food were on the house.

While we waited, across us on the sofa were three dowagers who looked like us – Indian. Conversation ensued, they were Pakistani. One of them was a Parsi from Karachi with relations in `Woodlands’ at Pedder Road. We joked about how if we lost our Passports in the fire it would only be the Pakistani and Indian authorities that would give us a hard time. How really similar we are. You do realise that we are just one people separated by a border!

Anyway, to cut a long story short, at about 2 am we were let back in. The fire had been put out. It was an electrical fire. The next morning we were shifted to an apartment on a higher floor as the fire had been on our floor. What impressed us the most was how well this was handled. A well thought out fire plan, good training on what to do and the fact that the staff acted in accordance with the training. Most impressive was the fact that the Fire Brigade was given floor plans. Can you imagine that in India? I mean can you imagine floor plans ever matching the floor? Was that not the biggest complaint that the NSG Commando’s had when dealing with Kasab and gang at the Oberoi and Taj? No one had floor plans. This is India my friend, where we have invented the zero and sent a spaceship to Mars.

Next day was the dinner party. I am happy to say, the food was delicious even if I say so myself. The Vindaloo does not photograph well but the other two dishes looked magnificent and tasted even better.

Salad Nicoise with Bombay Aloo

Prawn Chops - Prawn Pattice

Pork Vindaloo - Told you does not photograph well

Berners Tavern - London

We had read a lot of good things about Berners Tavern in London. This is located just off the famous Oxford Street but on the less fashionable side of Oxford Street. By this I mean the side that leads onto Soho, past, way past, the big shops, Selfridges, Marks & Spencer, John Lewis and so on.

We had a table for 7.30 and our occasional London dining partner, good friend the Doctor Businesswoman joined us. Berners Tavern is `under the direction’ – whatever that may mean – of Jason Atherton. Atherton himself is an alumnus of the great Gordon Ramsay. The food served is described as simple and elegant with the best produce that the British Isles offers. So you have British, French and European dishes. The restaurant is in a Hotel and is open from breakfast thru to dinner and then finally for a late supper from 10.30 pm till midnight. This is a large dining room with a lot of tables and runs for 17 hours, which is a long time.

When you walk in you cannot but say `wow’. This is a room that is simply gorgeous. This is far from being a Tavern, but is one of the most visually stunning rooms I have seen in a long time. To say it is attractive will be a gross understatement. The room is chocker block full of paintings and ornate plaster in the ceiling. The height of the room is probably 20 feet or thereabouts, and, without any pillars. So, the overall effect is truly gob smacking, to use an English phrase.

The place was full when we got in and fairly buzzing. Service was a bit haphazard in as much you had to attract the attention of the waiters. Our table had been set without any napkins. Despite this, I must say that when beckoned, or on attention being drawn, the staff was faultless and did not then forget what they were called for. Also I must say right up front, that we were given a 2 hour table. We were having such a good time that the two hours passed without our realising this. The waiter then very sweetly, smoothly and without rippling the water asked us to move to the bar where we could continue our evening. Very well done.

The menu is a short one pager about the size of a table mat. Both HRH the Queen of Kutch and I had a Gin and Tonic, which is fast becoming our favourite drink to start an evening on. Doctor Businesswoman asked for a glass of Champagne. We also ordered a bottle of Argentinean Malbec [I know it is normally Argentinean but they had a Chilean on offer too]. We the set about ordering our meal and once that was done conversations started.

HRH the Queen of Kutch ordered Pumpkin Risotto Crunchy Quail Egg and smoked Ham Hock and Kale Chips for a starter. She said it was excellent. I had a spoon full of the Risotto and thought it was outstanding. The flavour of Pumpkin was strong. I have no idea how he managed that as Pumpkin is really quite bland and flavourless. The cooking of the Risotto was brilliant. Really a good dish.

Pumpkin Risotto Crunchy Quail Egg and smoked Ham Hock and Kale Chips

Doctor Businesswoman ordered a Lobster and Prawn Cocktail with Avocado and Crisp Shallots. You know Prawn Cocktail is such a clichéd dish and so badly made in India – if you can find a restaurant serving French food and not being Jain, Either there is too much Mayonnaise and more often than not, the Prawns are hopelessly overcooked and taste like bits of rubber. This was really good. None of these faults and the Crisp Shallots – Birista to us Indians – added so much taste.

Lobster and Prawn Cocktail with Avocado and Crisp Shallots

I had a Crisp Pigs Head with Foie Gras and Black Pudding with some Sauce Girbiche. The Pigs Head came as a sort of what we Indians call a `cutlet’ meaning that the Pigs Head, Foie Gras and Black Pudding were all finely chopped flattened into a disc and deep fried. Nice but not as good as the other two starters.

Crisp Pigs Head with Foie Gras and Black Pudding with some Sauce Girbiche

Well begun is half done is the saying. So we waited for the main courses.

By this time we were having such a lovely evening, we ordered a second bottle of wine.

HRH the Queen of Kutch ordered Macaroni and Cheese with Braised Ox Cheek, Brioche and Bone Marrow Crumble. Quite simply, the best Macaroni and Cheese we have ever eaten in our lives. No exceptions, no qualifications and certainly no hesitation is saying so. The sauce was cheesy without being rich, the Ox Cheek was delicious and there was nothing not to like in the dish. It was a large helping. What HRH the Queen of Kutch did not finish was lapped up by both Doctor Businesswoman and me. The dish was wiped clean.

Macaroni and Cheese with Braised Ox Cheek, Brioche and Bone Marrow Crumble

Doctor Businesswoman ordered the Roast Lamb with white Bean Ragout, Smoked Ham Hock and Mint Pesto. The dish looked great and tasted fantastic. I am always amazed at the way these Chefs combine ingredients that go together. Lamb and Beans are a classic. Lamb and Mint is a classic. Put all together. Lovely. She finished very last morsel.

Roast Lamb with white Bean Ragout, Smoked Ham Hock and Mint Pesto

I had a char grilled Pork Chop with Chicory and Apple Salad, Apple and Mustard Puree. Once again a combination of classic flavours. Pork, apple, mustard. Top class dish, well presented.

Pork Chop with Chicory and Apple Salad, Apple and Mustard Puree

Sides of Carrot and New Potato sauted in Duck Fat

We were then shifted to the Bar. We continued our conversation. Also we had no desire for dessert. We grabbed our coats and in the cool London evening walked back.

All in all, an excellent restaurant food wise and staggeringly beautiful looks wise. Great place to have a meal. Not too expensive. A must visit.

Parking, cash back and why I dispair

Often I despair at the state of life in India. Really, how much has to be done just to bring us up to some standard. On the one hand we have PM Modi speaking about clean drinking water, toilets cleaning the streets and on the other hand we have the fact [or fiction] of going to Mars [at cut price].

When in England this time, I experienced an instance of how different everything is in India. This was to do with something as ordinary and commonplace as airport parking. Also, this time I realised, after having seen it happen so many times in the past, how utterly wrapped up in needless regulation and repression we really are. This was an equally mundane matter, cash back or cash out.

Call me sentimental, call me pessimistic, call me foolish or idealist or accuse me of making a mountain out of a molehill, but, both these instances did leave me more than shaken, they filled me with despair on how we will ever progress. It left me questioning how we approach customers, how negative and unhelpful, arrogant and officious we are as Indians.

Public parking, in malls, airports and so on is becoming more and more common in India. As you enter you take a ticket or token of some sort and find your parking spot. When you finish and leave you insert the ticket into a machine or hand over your token to an attendant, hand out money, you are told to provide change as the attendant has none, you struggle a bit, ask your co-passengers, struggle some more, honk angrily if you are behind someone doing this, and finally, the task is over and you can leave. There is always at least one attendant, if not more, and, often one `security’ man doing the job of parking attendant. Is this not typical? Is this not something you see at every toll both?

Anyway, this is not what I am upset about. My point is have you seen either the fine print on the token or a paper badly scrawled stuck on the booth telling you that if you have lost your token you have to pay maximum charge? That is my problem. Why should I have to pay maximum charge?

Let me tell you how they do this in the UK.

When you enter a public parking zone like an airport [which is when I saw this in operation] or a shopping mall or a supermarket, on entry, you get a token. At the same time the camera records your car number and obviously the entry time. Then, when leaving, you walk to a payment booth before getting into your car, insert your ticket and the machine tells you how much to pay. The machine has change, so you pay the required amount, get your change, collect your ticket recording payment and get into your car. You drive up to the exit gate; insert your paid ticket and leave. No humans, no change hassle, no traffic hold up, no honking, nothing. Now the question is what happens if you have been foolish enough, like our driver was, to lose the paid ticket in the short interval between payment and driving out. Obviously, you cannot exit. Do you have notices like in India – pay maximum charge. No. Of course not. All you do is speak to an operator at the exit thru the machine. They check their computers and match the ticket, car number and paid ticket and let you go. That is it. No aggression, no back chat from the attendants, simple painless and pleasurable. No talking to rude Biharis at the exit absolutely nothing.

Is any of this rocket science? Is any of this technology or electronics horribly expensive? Do we not have Infosys, TCS WIPRO and hundred other companies that have developed this system for the malls in the UK and elsewhere? Why can we not have this? Every new parking facility that comes up can and should have this? Why does it not? Why why why?

Cash back or cash out. We know this as something totally different in India. In India cash back is a facility offered by either, or, a combination of (i) the credit card issuer, say, Citibank (ii) the retail outlet, say, Croma and (iii) the manufacturer, say, Apple. So the way it works is that if you buy an Iphone from Croma using a Citibank Card you will get some money loaded onto your card, which is in effect a discount.

Across Europe this works differently, albeit, I must state here, on only Debit Cards. If you walk into a supermarket, Tesco, Sainsbury etc and buy goods worth say £ 15.95 and hand over your Debit card to pay, the cashier will invariably ask you if you want some cash out/back. If you say yes £ 20 please, your Debit card will be swiped for £ 15.95 + £ 20 = £ 35.95 and you will be handed £ 20 in cash. To put it simply, this works like an ATM without having to go and visit one. It makes no difference to you because it is your money, not credit money. You are saved the bother of trudging to an ATM to get the money out. The retailer is saved the bother of having surplus cash on hand, everybody is happy, all needs are satisfied and there is convenience for all.

Can you even imagine this in India. Big Bazaar or Hypercity giving you cash. Unthinkable my friend. The RBI will have a fucking cardiac arrest, Raghuram Rajan will need a defibrillator. Big Bazaar will say its sales have increased by 95% craftily including the Cash backs/outs it has done. Someone will say FDI rules are being violated. What about a banking license? The Banking Regulation Act will be contravened. There will be a fraud committed by an Indian Mujahedeen operative in conjunction with a cashier! Somewhere along the long line of mishaps will be ICICI Bank who will issue denials! Basically India will implode, the retailer will vaporize, all hell will break loose and the dogs of war will be let lose.

Now do you still believe I am nuts?