For the oneth of June

Beanism of the day: Dada’s birthday is on the oneth of June.

Yes, it was yesterday. We got him a gift, hand painted some cards and cut some Mango Mascarpone Cheesecake – I highly recommend the deli at the Fortune Select Excalibur. The cakes are delicious –  I’ve had friends bring them over for tea and so I finally made the effort to get the OA’s cake from there. Creamy, just the right texture, and being mango season it was a dream come true. They even had a fresh mango cake! The service was brilliant. I stopped there for a few minutes to pick up the cake and they bent backwards getting me water, offering me a chair and the newspaper.

After we put the kids to bed we went out to dinner to a little known place called The Banyan Grill at O Palacio. It’s got the worst location possible. Some MCD work going on and no parking so we parked far down the road and walked. A little crack between some asbestos sheets bang opposite the Hard Rock Cafe sign at DLF Place, Saket.  There were fuit vendors sitting around in the dark and flower pot sellers stacking their wares for the night. It was my idea and I checked twice with the OA if we should change our plans but he said we should learn to live on the edge. Right. I teetered in on high heels and a light cotton dress. And once we got past the worst a guard showed up, insisted on taking our keys and parking us in a safer, closer spot.

It’s one of those contemporary joints where art meets fashion meets food as we might have discovered had we come earlier than we did, at 11pm. Thank you, Gurgaon! The place opened up magically in the midst of the dust and dirt and the cliched but immediate image is of a lotus in a scum filled pond. A very Med feel with white washed walls, pebbled paths, fairy lights twinkling and tall palms waving majestically in the breeze. A tiny patch of  lawn and then high walls that open into a courtyard, a rickshaw full of potted plants parked in the middle of the greens. Steps lead down into the courtyard and the massive banyan tree  holding centrestage catches your attention. Tables scattered at many levels, windchimes ringing in the breeze, candles lighting up nooks, stairs leading off from the main area and an airconditioned room for those who choose to sit indoors. For a moment I wondered if it was haunted because it was deserted. And then suddenly the place came to light and staff rushed out.

The service was really fast and our crisp cool feta, rocket and pear salad was just right for a hot summer night. Actually, strike that, they had this huge pedestal fan in a corner and it kept everything cool and rather romantic with the leaves all fluttering in the breeze. I told the OA we needed one of those in the house. While waiting around we looked around and spied the boutique area – I’m told there are also sculptures by Yusuf Arakkal among others but by the time we got there it was really too dark and we were too hungry to feed our minds.

They had no alcohol other than wine. No sangrias unless they have a party, they said. Well, there goes my chance at imbibing, I shrugged. The OA who isn’t the type to get stewed to the gills unless there is scotch didn’t bother. I think we got high simply on the ambience and the  fact that we were the only patrons there. I don’t think it’s doing too well and if I had to find something to pin the blame on I’d say it’s the location. Haven’t they heard the rule of location, location, location?  I’m told it’s run by a designer, so maybe not.

The two girls serving us didn’t know much about the food but smiled sweetly and served fast so that they could head home, no doubt. The OA messed up my order while I wandered around taking pictures and instead of a Chicken in Veloute sauce I ended up with a Jamaican Jerk Chicken that I was just not in the mood for. The chicken was slightly undercooked but adequate once I got past the first bite.  The OA’s Rogan Josh (the man kills me!) was aromatic, delicious, juicy and served creatively. Portions were generous. My favourite naturally, was dessert –  Marilyn’s Lava Pear. A stewed pear drizzled with Belgian chocolate sauce  flavoured with star anise and decorated with walnuts, served with ice cream. Very nice. It does seem rather fitting that our birthdays are getting less boisterous and tastier!  I’d love to come back here on a winter afternoon and enjoy a relaxed lazy lunch in the dappled sunshine. There is a red snapper and a prawn in peanut butter sauce that has my name written on it. A meal for two should come to Rs 2500 without alcohol.

This review is the OA’s return gift to all of you. He believes that I write about everything except what he loves the most – food! And so since this is the family blog I’m going to make an effort to write more about everyone’s interests. And no, that does not mean there will be a dinosaur section.

PS: The pictures don’t do the place any justice.

 

Ice cream for lunch

… is a summer treat.

Eating it while sitting on top of the dining table  seems to be a bigger treat for some reason!

PS: Do go across to Saffron Tree and read my review of On the tip of a Pin was…. a sweet little story about exploring new avenues and being appreciated for who you are. Funnily, it was a well-timed read in the midst of the admission struggles.

Chip off the old block

Dear Nani,

Mama says I do you proud. No, not merely because I am a carbon copy of your mother, the looker in the family. But because I eat my chicken like any self respecting Bengali woman would. Right down to nothing. Which is like you and unlike her.

The family has usually gotten up and walked away post-dessert but I will be found wandering around the house, my sticky little face covered with gravy and a chicken bone chewed beyond recognition in my hand. It keeps me occupied for at least an hour after dinner and should anyone be foolhardy enough to even attempt extricating it from my grubby fingers, I scream blue murder. Just like you.

I’m thinking of permanently moving to live with you and G’pa since the philistines who gave birth to me don’t know how to appreciate a good leg of chicken.

Love

The Bean