I'm not fond of travelling. Neither am I a 'foodie'. I like both, but I'm not 'fond' of them, in the same way that I'm fond of reading, or listening to music. If you ask me why, I think I'd bring it down to an inability at having fun, without thinking myself into a knot in the process. Again, travelling and eating and cooking can be enormously thought intensive; it's just that I wouldn't do them to think. I'd do them to not think. It's been a while since I've enjoyed things in that vein.
Which is why America came as a surprise. The first dream I had on my first night there was of Barbeque. I actually liked heading out all by myself and discovering the streets. I didn't do as much of that as I should have, but I surprised myself nevertheless. When my sister and her fiancé , who also happens to be one of my best friends, decided to take me travelling to San Francisco and California, I didn't balk. I did balk somewhat upon finding myself in yet another city. I don't like cities. And while San Francisco, with its colorful people and undulating roads and bus rides was fun, it really didn't compare with the mountains and sea of California Bay. I think my inner child was resurrected at the sight of the mountains, and died again from them in joy.
Among my most cherished memories in America is that of a wharf in San Francisco, where sea lions sunbathed and lay around sleeping on wooden stands. We went for a steam boat ride with the surf spraying us in the face, with blaring rock music, then came back to dine at one of the numerous restaurants dotting the wharf. And I happened to have a crepe there, at a creperie, which took me by surprise. It shouldn't have. For all I know, it should have been predictable as anything else that involved whipped cream and this creamy batter and nutella, but I went a little mad inside at how it tasted. It also had bananas in it. Yes, I actually asked the cook to include bananas. Me.
Fast forward five months from then, and I was invited over by Upasana to her place, and she made me a crepe because I'd said I liked it so much. And I think I've never been happier at food before. It was amazing, even better than the one I had by the wharf, in spite of it not being Nutella that she used. I can't believe I'm writing a blog post on it now, but here I am. She's an awesome cook, Upasana is, and she's a deft hand at cooking loads of things, mushrooms especially among them, but this. This took me by surprise like very few things had of late. I could smell the surf and the sea lions. Okay, I hadn't smelt sea lions even at San Francisco but you get the picture. And what was astounding was how I wasn't thinking anymore. For a change, the crepe, the idea of the crepe, what it did to me, and how it tasted, and the memories associated with it, and this pretty girl having made it for me was one whole thing, much like the crepe itself. And things came full circle. Here I am uploading a photograph.
It's a very alien thing for me to be this happy about food. It doesn't happen everyday. And it takes something truly special, and someone truly lovely, to make me feel this way. I think this is one story for the ages when it comes to my personal mythology.
Oh, and here's my culprit, and hero.
Which is why America came as a surprise. The first dream I had on my first night there was of Barbeque. I actually liked heading out all by myself and discovering the streets. I didn't do as much of that as I should have, but I surprised myself nevertheless. When my sister and her fiancé , who also happens to be one of my best friends, decided to take me travelling to San Francisco and California, I didn't balk. I did balk somewhat upon finding myself in yet another city. I don't like cities. And while San Francisco, with its colorful people and undulating roads and bus rides was fun, it really didn't compare with the mountains and sea of California Bay. I think my inner child was resurrected at the sight of the mountains, and died again from them in joy.
Among my most cherished memories in America is that of a wharf in San Francisco, where sea lions sunbathed and lay around sleeping on wooden stands. We went for a steam boat ride with the surf spraying us in the face, with blaring rock music, then came back to dine at one of the numerous restaurants dotting the wharf. And I happened to have a crepe there, at a creperie, which took me by surprise. It shouldn't have. For all I know, it should have been predictable as anything else that involved whipped cream and this creamy batter and nutella, but I went a little mad inside at how it tasted. It also had bananas in it. Yes, I actually asked the cook to include bananas. Me.
Fast forward five months from then, and I was invited over by Upasana to her place, and she made me a crepe because I'd said I liked it so much. And I think I've never been happier at food before. It was amazing, even better than the one I had by the wharf, in spite of it not being Nutella that she used. I can't believe I'm writing a blog post on it now, but here I am. She's an awesome cook, Upasana is, and she's a deft hand at cooking loads of things, mushrooms especially among them, but this. This took me by surprise like very few things had of late. I could smell the surf and the sea lions. Okay, I hadn't smelt sea lions even at San Francisco but you get the picture. And what was astounding was how I wasn't thinking anymore. For a change, the crepe, the idea of the crepe, what it did to me, and how it tasted, and the memories associated with it, and this pretty girl having made it for me was one whole thing, much like the crepe itself. And things came full circle. Here I am uploading a photograph.
It's a very alien thing for me to be this happy about food. It doesn't happen everyday. And it takes something truly special, and someone truly lovely, to make me feel this way. I think this is one story for the ages when it comes to my personal mythology.
Oh, and here's my culprit, and hero.
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