India: Eat, Play, Love

While I never got round to finishing the first chapter of that narcissistic book of Elisabeth Gilbert’s “Eat, Pray, Love”, I don’t think I need to be living vicariously through that boring self indulgent character.

Well, India was a melting pot of deliciousness accompanied by colourful sights and beautiful hindi typography handpainted on walls and vehicles.

And here we tried Kulcha that’s famous in the West part of India where we went to Amritsar by the Pakistani border.

I had Kulcha for the first time in Amritsar—hot, crisp pastry stuffed with potatoes, spices and herbs, served slathered in salted butter.
Kulchaland, saying it as it is and a brilliant job at copying the coke typography. It will be impossible to find this place, but just tell the rickshaw driver MK hotel, it’s directly across the road.

Butter chicken tops my Indian food favourite list and I had my fair share of the best stuff at the original Moti Mahal in Old Delhi.


And lots of delicious naan slightly charred to the right side of crisp.

Our best little adventure was wandering into possibly the world’s largest kitchen, serving up to 42000+ people day. Free meals are dispensed by volunteers throughout the day till 10pm at night, at Amritsar’s Golden Sikh Temple, also the largest in the world. Cauldrons of curries, dahl and gravy things. (as you can see below!)

My stomach and head fared very well in India, no Dehli belly and no migraines—a great relief from all the scary stories of friends who’ve been to India. But of course, all the misery and ailments begin again in Beijing, where food poisoning is like a common cold and migraines a weekly affair. I’m using alternative remedies by eating kiwi every morning for vitamin C and natural yogurt to fill my belly with some good bacteria. (only god knows if there’s toxic in those cartons of yogurt) I hope that works out. My mother recommended rotating brands of everything I eat, just in case they are toxic, the toxicity levels will be much less than a long term consumption of just one brand. Very wise advice.

My Play Work involves alot of eating, not enough writing, and too many miscellaneous tasks and lots of strangers. I wish I had more time to play, even though work sometimes involves play… but there are only 24 hours in a day.

Love comes in the form of food in more ways than one. I am convinced the best oysters come from Britanny. The ghostly scent of the sea lingers in the mouth accelerated by smoked salmon and caviar—worthy of 50 Proutian flashbacks of childhood memories by the sea. A weekend in Macau and Hong Kong, spoilt by the freshest Brittany oysters and white truffles from Alba.img_0705-1023x1020

Fresh oyster served alongside smoked salmon and caviar topped with a tiny dollop of creme fraiche for that oh-so-French touch. :)

Fresh scampi dressed with white truffles sitting in a delicious bath of artichoke soup.

After spanning country codes of +33, +212, +86, +33 our then vague and nascent relationship strung delicately together by endless conversations facilitated by fibre optic cables under the ocean, we’re finally back in the same time zone with +853 and +86—closely bonded by cooking, eating, writing and lots of laughs.

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