My Happy Place

A few weeks ago, hubby and I took a wonderful detour from everyday with a trip to northern California. I've always loved California, but never more so than on this holiday, as we drove into the most beautiful places in the United States, and ate some of the best food I've ever tasted. Next time, I'll write about our experiences in Carmel and Napa Valley, but today we focus on just one spot.

A couple of years ago, during a visit to the bay area, we stumbled upon what just might be my favorite food spot in the country: the San Francisco Ferry Building Marketplace. Imagine rows and rows of local artisan food stalls and organic produce. This nationally renowned farmer's market is especially spectacular on Saturdays, when you are treated to more magnificent food and drink than you could possibly imagine. The only challenge here is in having to choose where to eat. This Saturday was a gorgeous sunny day (as most days in California are!) and I found myself running around like a kid in a candy shop, eager to try everything I saw!

First stop: Namu Street Food, serving delicious Asian twists of some local favorites. We tried the gamja fries - fries topped with kimchee, house-made teriyaki sauce, kewpie mayo (Japanese mayo) and green onions. Mmmm.

Second Stop: Probably my favorite spot in the market (although out of the over 100 stalls, its pretty much impossible to stop and try everything - which is why I always plan to go back!) is a Mexican spot (right by Namu, but in my over-eagerness to order, I forgot to write down the name of the place). Outrageous, and I do mean, OUTRAGEOUS chilaquiles. Fried tortilla triangles, topped with eggs, mole sauce, queso fresco, black beans and avocados. This has got to be one of THE best things I've ever eaten. Ever. Did I say ever?

Now, these are all little temporary for-the-day tented stalls, with make-shift kitchens, turning out simply incredible food. That's what makes it all the more amazing. Oh, and don't forget the views.

Stop 3: Wheatgrass shots! Yes, you read that right! Fresh organic wheat grass juice in a tiny shot glass. Fresh as can be! I had to try it! Tastes like you're eating from the Earth. And that's a good thing.

As I was winding my way through the aisles of tents, I passed by this wonderful statue.

Stop 4 was freshly brewed coffee, to refresh myself and prepare for Round 5!

I picked up some lovely meyer lemon marmalade at the Happy Girl Kitchen Co. It's pretty easy to understand why the girl making these jellies and spreads is happy.

By now, we were both stuffed, but we were determined to taste and snack more. We persisted and strolled around a bit longer, not having the heart to leave this magically delicious place.

We had to take a little bit of the market with us. So in addition to some marinated chilly peppers and marmalade, we also treated ourselves to some crispy french bread, burrata cheese, and figs soaked in port wine. A wonderful evening snack.

Back now in Boston (which I love!), I dream of taking off that winter jacket, and walking over to the Ferry Building, holding onto hubby with one hand, and to a plate of chilaquiles with the other.

Dining Guide:

Ferry Building Market Place, Tuesday, Thursday, and Saturday (go Saturday for the especially spectacular market. Worth a trip to SFO just for this!)

Fine without the fru fru

At T.W. Food in Cambridge, you are treated to a rare, perhaps nearly-extinct, combination: fine dining with zero attitude. You feel like you have walked into someone's house. And you have, literally. The tiny 10 table or-so restaurant is built in what most-certainly was an old New England style home. The wait-staff is friendly and kind, the ambience is simple, and the food is good. 

At T.W., you can choose to order a la carte, or select their multi-course (seven, to be precise) prix fixe French-American menu (a full vegetarian option is available, of course!). On Tuesdays, they offer a smaller prix fixe paired with wine. Below, a sample of snapshots from our 7 course dinner. I should add, the non-pretentious atmosphere will make you forget you are in a gourmet French-inspired American restaurant, but once the bill arrives, you'll be right back to reality!

Our amuse bouche: sweet potato shots!

Velvety cauliflower soup with sage brown butter and chive.

Maple roasted salsify (a root vegetable)

Frittata, served in a cast iron skillet with oyster mushroom and escarole baked in. Topped with pecorino. Having eggs for dinner felt rather strange. I could have done with an eggless entree.

Pasta course with broccoli, pine nuts and capers.

Sheep's milk cheese from France, and a New England cow's milk cheese from Vermont; served with cranberries and candied walnuts.

Dining Guide:

T.W. Food, Cambridge, MA

A Day in the Life

Exploring the culinary adventures of Mumbai is like discovering a million different cultures - all on the same day.

Let's begin at a small, thriving snack shop for breakfast. Gulati's churns out lovely, puffy bhaturas (large fried hollow pillow-like breads made with white flour) and almost-perfect chole (a flavorful punjabi side dish made with garbanzo beans, ginger, garlic, cumin and ground onions. The raw beans are soaked with tea bags for an extra dash of rich color). You break off a piece of the hot bhaturas and watch them immediately lose their baloon-like shape and fall flat on your plate. Dip it in some chole, add a sliver of onion and let your taste buds enjoy a little piece of heaven. One of my favorite breakfasts. Ever.

Some jelabis (deep fried and dipped in sugar syrup!) and kachoris (the samosa's rounder cousin)  round out a full breakfast!

For lunch, let's head to the glamorous and glamorously expensive Yauatcha - Mumbai's answer to those seeking exotic varieties of authentic dim-sum. We got there around noon - and noon is very early for lunch in India and so we had the humongous restaurant all to ourselves.

They have a beautiful open kitchen where chefs prepare each and every dim sum. Our waitress informed me that photos of the kitchen were not allowed. Hmmm. I wonder why, in a restaurant where people surely take photos every single day, where the large open kitchen is the focal point of the seating area,  photos of said large open kitchen are not allowed. Oh well.

Yauatcha has a series of overpriced, mostly delicious dumplings with a large variety for vegetarians - edamame & truffle, sweet pumpkin, and an interesting fried and steamed dumpling.

By now, we are so stuffed that dinner will be snacks and some dessert (although the snacks are so substantial it's hardly a light dinner!). Some Bhel Puri (puffed rice with onions, cucumbers, tomatoes and a sweet date chutney and a spicy mint chutney), vada pav (Bombay's quintessential sandwich),  and panki (a Gujarati dish made with dal and besan, lightly spiced and steamed in a banana leaf) at Swati Snacks.

Panki

Panki, inside the leaf!

Vada pav with spicy chutney on the side

Bhel puri 

And now time for the King of the show. We head back to Gulati to pick up a box of their milk cake - whole milk that has been cooked down with sugar to a creamy thick texture. The most delicious dessert I've ever had! This deserves a post all on its own!

On that note, I'm off to have some dinner (make that dessert!) right now.

Prix Fixe, Indian style.

For a while now, during our visits to India, my husband and I have been hearing whispers about the inexplicable amazingness of the dal (a lentil-based soupy dish, served with Indian bread) at a certain restaurant in Mumbai. Last time we were here, I called the restaurant, but found the cost of their offerings so ridiculously exorbitant that I decided one bowl of soup just wasn't worth it. This time around, temptation got the better of me, and we found ourselves at Peshawari, the restaurant with the supposedly remarkable dal, one afternoon for lunch.

Peshawar refers to the north-west province of the Indian subcontient, and immediately brings to mind smoky kebabs, hot buttery breads and rich dals. It's clear the designers were trying to create  an authentic ambience. As soon as you enter the restaurant, the first thing you notice is the large glass kitchen with masterful chefs opening tandoors holding skewers of various meats, cheeses and vegetables. Mmmmm. Looks promising. The view is even better from our second (I'll explain in a moment) table.

We are taken to our tiny table for two, and as I sit down, I realize there is no place for legs under the table. It's a solid block of wood. Extremely uncomfortable. And the chairs - no backrests. I can't imagine having any sort of leg or back issues and sitting through a 2 hour meal like this. You should be in top physical form to get through a meal here. No leaning back or relaxing.

The host notices my visible discomfort and offers to move us to another table which is a little more comfortable. Still no backrests though. I'm happy with the move, but can't help but wonder why the designers couldn't create an authentic environment while providing backrests and tables that were not solid blocks of wood.

We are soon brought our menus (the solid block of wood theme continues - the menus are engraved in...you guessed it...solid blocks of wood). Only a few dishes are offered: a handful of vegetarian and non-vegetarian kebabs and gravies, along with Indian breads. We had heard they have a prix fixe menu, but we are told that while its a good deal (the prix fixe costs as much as one or two dishes on the ala carte menu, and comes with 10...yes 10...courses) they cannot prepare it for tables of less than 4. So now we have to pay the same price for one dish as we would have for 10 (and in addition, the prix fixe looks absolutely delicious - I'm now determined to try it). We ask our waiter to plead our case with the chef, and he comes back and says, "no can do." Seriously? Well, he tries a second time, and he comes back successful in his mission. We will have the 10 course prix fixe, and we will not eat for another week. Excellent. The waiter also let us know that we would not be provided utensils and in true Peshwari style, we should use our hands. And he provided us with aprons. This was going to be fun.

After these hurdles, the rest of our experience was superlative. The first set of dishes to arrive was a platter containing a cauliflower kebab, tandoori phool, and a vegetarian seekh kebab.

Let's start with the cauliflower kebab (pictured closest to you on the plate above). The taste was so new to me, I couldn't even recognize that it was cauliflower. Absolutely amazing. The tandoor phool, a skewer of bell peppers, onions, tomatoes and paneer with chaat masala powder was spicy, flavorful and simply delicious. The vegetarian seekh kebab was my least favorite item, but it too was good - just couldn't stand up to the quality of the other items on the plate.

Before I could make a dent in this plate, the second platter arrived - with tandoori aloo (potato kebabs), paneer tikka (cheese kebabs) and a salad. By now, I was too busy wiping tears (from the heat of the food) on my apron that I forgot to take a photo. But rest assured the paneer tikka was smoky and hot - just the way its supposed to be. And the potatoes were melt-in-your-mouth delicious. The food was all-you-could-eat, but honestly, it was impossible to even finish one serving as each piece was so rich and buttery. A wonderful bowl of plain yogurt topped with cucumbers, tomatoes and onions cooled me down. The plain raita, without the addition of spices, was a perfect touch.

Next up - the famous dal. The reason we came. The dal arrived in an unassuming little bowl along with a serving of paneer makhani (Indian cheese in a buttery tomato gravy) and an assortment of breads.

The paneer was excellent. The dal. Ah, the dal. Yes, its true. This is one of the best, if not the best dal I have ever had in a restaurant (pictured on top above; paneer makhani below). Imagine the most amazing chilli you've ever had. I want to take this dal back to some big chilli contest in Texas and leave with the prize check. Ginger, garlic and butter dancing in perfect rhythm with hot melted lentils. I'd go back just for the dal.

By now, we could not eat another bite. We had already decided that we would ask for a small portion of one of the desserts offered, but before we could, we were brought out samples of three of the four: ras malai (cottage cheese in a light sweet cream broth), kulfi (Indian ice cream flavored with pistachios), and gulab jamun (donuts in sweet syrup).

I actually had to send one dish back because I knew it was just too much. But I succumbed to the rest. All were good, not great. It's clear the draw here are the main courses.

Finally, we took off our aprons, paid the hefty check, and slowly meandered out of the restaurant, unable to move very fast due to the large amounts of butter and cream we had enjoyed. Went home and slept for several hours, and could not eat dinner. So, was it worth it? Well, let me put it this way. I can't eat this much food every day, but next time I'm in the city, I can be convinced to go back. Quite easily.

Dining Guide
Peshwari, in the ITC Maratha hotel, Andheri East, Mumbai

An Incredible New Year.

I love ushering in the New Year in Mumbai. The sound of fire-crackers welcoming, with eagerness and anticipation, a newly born 2013; the aromas of celebratory cuisine wafting through the house; the sight of millions of people, and the colors of their bangles and saris: what a glorious way to say Goodbye to the Past, and Welcome to the Future.

Literally a few hours after landing in Mumbai, we were taking laps around the magnificent and magnificently huge Sunday Brunch buffet at The Leela (of which I wrote last year). I just might have to write about it every year. Probably the best meal I have ever had in a restaurant. Imagine a humongous buffet where every single dish is the most incredible, immaculate version of that dish.

Look at the aapam. Light, fluffy pancakes from the southern state of Kerala, served with a creamy coconut stew. Just perfect. We were told that all the dishes from Kerala were prepared by a chef from that very state (and ps - the Thai dishes by a Thai chef, and so on.)

Mmmm...aapam.

And right in front of our eyes, another chef was baking hot Indian breads in a tandoor - a clay oven.

And straight from the tandoor to our table.

Places like The Leela have a sort of uncomfortable existence in India.  Once inside, you are in a luxurious world unlike anything else you may have seen, but a step outside the marble buildings, uber-luxurious spa treatments, and rich, decadent cuisine, finds you back in reality - a reality that is actually more amazing and incredible than that which you find inside the 5 star hotels. Streets lined with fresh, gorgeous fruits and vegetables, and life bustling ahead, in heat and dust.

A busy street in Mumbai's Santa Cruz market.

Look at that dosa flour being spun!

Potatoes and onions!

Chillies and grains for the taking! Doesn't get more "organic" than this!

The Leela is gorgeous, but Santa Cruz market, with all its dust and crowds, is even more so. All together, the experience of India is incredible, incredible, incredible. And after all these years away, seeing India with fresh eyes, I feel it even more now.

I hope your new year is filled with sights, sounds and aromas of everything that is Incredible for you!

Guide:
The Leela, Mumbai
Santa Cruz Market, Santa Cruz West, Mumbai (a football field of veggies, fruits, handbags, jewelry, shoes, blouses; you name it, it's there.)

Turn, Turn, Turn

The arrivals area in the airport is a little slice of life. Men, women and children, come walking out of the gates, and for a brief moment, they look distressed, confused, bewildered. They are searching for that person. Mom. Daughter. Father. Son. Friend. Someone who stands out in a crowd of unfamiliar faces. Someone whose eyes say: You are home. 

And in an instant, our arriving passenger is transformed. A lost look is transformed by a smile that emerges. Almost from nowhere. Eyes sigh in relief. Hands stretch out as if to say: My journey was worth it. Take me home.

Isn't life like that? We take journeys, and are sometimes stranded in that not-so-familiar space. For a moment. For an hour. For longer. Distressed. Confused. Bewildered. How did we get here? 

Does it matter? Perhaps what does matter is that we remember: to everything there's a season. 

A time to find that familiar face. Those eyes.

You will be home.

In time.

A Light in Dark Places

I've been thinking a lot today about one of my favorite lines from The Lord of the Rings. I think about Lord of the Rings more frequently than the regular person I would say. Anyway, I digress. In the story, a light is given to an overwhelmed, aching hero, who is nearly at the end of his strength and can barely continue. But his path is long and his destiny is unknown. The light is given with the promise that it will shine for him at those moments in his journey when he is consumed by darkness. And it does.

Now what does that have to do with food? Well, nothing really. But it got me thinking about light and darkness, winter and spring, hope and despair. And I thought, well, I must write about that.

My Hubby and I were in Costa Rica recently, caught up, for just a few days, in a marvelous, sunny, warm, dream-like escape from the cold, dark, dreary winter months of New England. The pristine blue waters of Playa Conchal shimmered like molten blue silver, caressing your feet, and whispering those joyous secrets that help you, somehow, live in That One Moment. Oh it was beautiful.

Everyone smiles, everyone is happy, and worries and fears are so far, far away. Tomorrow can wait, today is everything there is. I wish I could bottle that sunlight and bring it back with me to Boston.

But I can. Everyone smiles because I'm smiling at them. Everyone is happy because I'm happy when I see them. Tomorrow can wait, because Tomorrow must wait. Today is everything there is because Today is Everything there is. The cold, dark and dreary winter in New England could be the snuggle-with-hubby-and-be-thankful time of year, the winter-wonderland-of-my-dreams time of year, enjoy-giggling-with-mom-through-the-holidays time of year, gobble-hot-soup-over-late-night-chats time of year, the frost-before-the-Spring time of year.  The sun does shine every day, just not as long. But when it snows, you can tell that the sun is the brightest its ever been.

When it's dark outside (or inside), there's always a light. You may have to search harder for it sometimes than others. But it's there. A light in dark places, when all other lights go out.