Tagged: vegetarian

Egg Curry

The current economy is taking its toll and no one is immune from its effects. While there are changes in weather and joys in spring, some part of me seems chilled in a grip of melancholy and in my head there’s a strident head-ache. Actually that latter thing could also have a lot to do with the fact that there is intense hammering on the outside of a wall less than two feet away from my head. I woke up to its dulcet tones early this morning and now its 3 pm and I’m thoroughly sick of it. I should be immune to stuff like this, there are days that I work around much louder noises on site. But the build-up has been unbearable. The only thing stopping me from going outside and bopping that construction worker silly with those shingles he’s so busily trying fix on my building wall is the fact that he’s whistling cheerfully. In the gloom and doom of the time we live in, someone is happy, someone is doing a job he loves. What kind of person would want to ruin that for anyone?

It is a good thing that I haven’t been contemplating making a soufflé of any kind. Every time that hammer hits the wall, everything shudders slightly and I’m willing to bet good money that it would fall flatter than that joke I heard last night at dinner. Since I’m home on this somewhat cold Friday and the construction work outside was slowly robbing me of the ability to string coherent thought together, lunch had to be a tried and tested go-to recipe I can make without thinking. The day called for something warming and comforting to warm me and soothe my aching head, so I decided to go with one of my versions of Egg Curry.

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Nigella Lawson’s Maragarita Ice-cream

It seems as an architect entirely too much of my time is spent wrestling with printers. And it seems in my young life I’ve had to deal with all kinds, inkjet, laserjet and my perennial favourite, the large-format plotter. Ever tried printing a drawing on a dot-matrix printer? I’ve had the dubious honour of having done that as well. Do you know what happens to your eyes when you try to read a drawing by a dot-matrix printer that has developed shades of Jackson Pollock?? I scrubbed the floor furiously for a while before the truth dawned on me.

Yesterday I dealt with a super-quirky laser printer that was having cold issues. “Printer warming up”, the little 5″ monitor dolefully proclaimed. Sorely berating its need to cool down every five minutes, there I stood, while precious moments leaked away from life while it stubbornly refused to warm up. I rained invective upon it, pushed the power button Monk-like several times to no avail. There was just no sign of life. I complained to the print tech and gave the machine a once-over. He was sanguine at first but when significant time had elapsed, he became concerned too. As we both stood there glaring at the machine, there was a hacking sound, then a sudden whirr and after a profusion of Artoo-Detooesque beeps, the printer spat out a lime green piece of paper that would do saturation conferences proud. But not me. Because it wasn’t what I’d sent to the printer.

The sudden appearance of this virtual remnant of someone else’s prints produced several emotions. The print tech was relieved and happy to see the printer working. I was annoyed in a way only someone dealing with recalcitrant technology can be and stared morosely at that green piece of paper. And just like that, in seconds, I was thinking of ice cream (See, that feeling you had that Cheeky Chilli had surreptitiously become a tech blog was completely unfounded). The mind forms strange connections. But let me tell you, frustrations literally melt way when thoughts turn to ice cream.

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Farfalle with a Garlic-Porcini sauce

“Today I had yet another run-in with that girl. You know that girl. Everyone knows that girl. She’s the one you’d love to hate. And it would be easy to, what with her gorgeous good looks, engaging smile and perfect hair, she’s asking for it. But what makes it hard is that she’s also witty, intelligent and caring to boot, a perfect angel. She has to be the most annoying person ever! And it is hard to avoid her, she’s so easy to run into. All you can do really is smile back. And you probably should anyway…..you’ll walk past that mirror in a couple of seconds, and she’ll be gone as quickly as she arrived, not forever, just for a while.”

I don’t know what to do with these few lines above that I wrote, nor do I know where they came from. Here I was sitting down to talk about a delicious pasta dish, and this is what popped into my head. Maybe someday that girl will get out of my head and on to paper, along with the rest of her tale. Maybe it will be ‘that guy’ or ‘that kid’ instead of ‘that girl’, I don’t know. But I swear that the amount of random topics that pop into my head and clamour for elaboration are getting to be a veritable pain in the posterior. I mean really, I had thought starting to write about food would focus all my creative energy in one direction. But talking about food hasn’t brought the serene peace of mental vacuum that I hoped it would. As truly as nature abhors that phenomenon, food ideas are multiplying and bringing their non-related friends to the raucous party. And so I digress like, but much worse than my college history professor, who was supposed to teach us about history of architecture, but mostly taught the history of himself. If you are what you eat, than I’ve got to start giving random drug tests to my spices. Have they been secretly doped? Or maybe there was something in those chips I ate earlier. I always knew the processed food would get me.

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Jaya’s Afghani Baingan

Boy, today was h-o-t! Yesterday was bad enough but this morning was unbelievable. April’s not even over yet and we’ve already had a record high of 92°F. To many of you it may seem that I’m overstating this, since you may live in much hotter places. Heck, I’ve lived in much hotter places. Bombay is far from a ski vacation and college in Texas had many sweltering days where being outside gave you a fairly good idea of what hell must feel like. The difference is, here in the Bay area, we’re spoiled weather-wise, especially in San Francisco. Think bright beautiful sunshine with your own personal air-conditioning around you. That’s what it is like, sunshine with heat optional. The fog ensures that we need jackets in the summer, because when there is no sun, it is cool. Even on hot days, the temperature difference between night and day can be as much as 30°, as it is supposed to tonight. And as I sit here writing this, smelling the ocean on this hot spring night, the breeze starting blow in through my window is telling me this will be true.

It’s a darn shame I can’t sleep on the roof of my apartment building. I would brave random nocturnal creature attacks to enjoy a few hours of cooling slumber. It is impossible trying to sleep when you are hot. You slowly roast where you lie, incapacitated and zapped to near death by the crazy heat. Living in these cooler climes has taught me that I prefer the cold. I love everything about summer except the heat. Crazy but true. Even as I continue to slowly type this at the rate of two words per minute, I’m getting slower as my brain continues to melt into oblivion. Oh my future and past kingdoms for an air-conditioned room! (Incidentally in case you are wondering, apartments here rarely have air-conditioning, courtesy the normally fabulous weather.)

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Jamie Oliver’s Asparagus and Potato Tart

San Francisco is beautiful no matter where you are in it. But the charm of the San Francisco Bay is unbeatable. Last weekend was bright and sunny and demanded a break out in the open. While Amey took a break from his day and flew his kite……


….I took a walk and watched the world shed its winter overcoat and come alive. There were fathers and sons checking out the grass and walks…

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