Il Templo del Pizza!!

Pizzeria da Michele. The pizzeria that invented the Margherita. Established in 1870. Still in operation. Aptly called 'Il Templo del Pizza' meaning 'The Temple of Pizza'. I first saw it on television in 12th grade when Justine Shapiro toured southern Italy with Lonely Planet. One bite of their Marinara pizza and she said "No exaggerations, this is the best Pizza I’ve ever had in my life". That's when it became one of my must dos. Having a pizza at the very Pizzeria where it was created more than a century ago.Seven years later I was finally close to ticking this one off my list. We were on a trip to Italy and in Cinque Terre on the Ligurian coast in the north. Naples is in the south and it was a long journey. But I remained insistent and convinced my friends that the 'pilgrimage' was worth the effort. When we took the train that night, I must admit, I was having second thoughts. If the pizza was not as good as I said it was, my head would be on the chopping block.To make matters worse, the train journey was very uncomfortable. None of us could get any sleep. Throughout the night, I convinced myself that this is a pilgrimage to the 'Temple of Pizza' and that pilgrimages aren’t supposed to be easy. Moreover, the idea of going all the way to the south of Italy just to have a simple pizza made the foodie inside me very proud. The pilgrimage had to face new problems at sunrise, when the train came to a stop somewhere between Rome and Naples. It wouldn’t go any further and we had to take another (extremely crowded) train for the rest of the journey.When we finally arrived in Naples, my friends had become vocal with their threats. 'This better be good' they kept saying. After a 10 minute walk we were finally there. It took some searching but we finally found Pizzeria da Michele in a lane off the main street. The place didn’t look like much. It was small and the decor was similar to the many Irani restaurants one finds in Mumbai. This made me happy coz the best food is usually found in places like these. The menu was so small, it could be learnt by rote in one single reading. Only two pizzas: the Marinara and the Margherita. And Coke, Fanta or beer to drink. That's it. No fancy toppings, no deep-dish or extra thin crust bullshit. This was definitely a no-nonsense place.Since, we weren’t spoilt for choice, we ordered both the Margherita and the Marinara. Watching the pizza being made was an experience in itself. Much has been written and said about the meticulousness and eccentricities of Neapolitan Pizzaiolos and there I was, seeing all of it live. The dough cannot be rolled with a pin and must be hand-tossed. The base must not be more than 3 mm thick at the centre. The tomatoes used for the sauce must be of the San Marzano variety and must be grown on the slopes of Mount Vesuvius. The mozzarella cheese must be made from the milk of a Campania buffalo. Olive oil must be poured on the pizza in exactly three clockwise spirals. The Oven must be wood fired and maintained at a temperature of 485C. The pizza must be baked for only 60-90 seconds

When the pizzas were served at our table, I knew we would not be disappointed. The Marinara was the simplest possible pizza and was made with only the tomato paste, basil, garlic and olive oil, with the heat of the oven actually cooking the raw garlic in 90 seconds flat. No exaggerations, this is the best pizza I've ever had and no other can come even close. The Margherita had tomato paste, basil, oregano and Mozzarella cheese as toppings and was brilliant but second best when compared to the Marinara.

Threats turned to gratitude and all of us agreed that the pizzas we'd just had were worth the effort we'd put to get there and more. With this story, the search for the perfect pizza has ended. The visit to Da Michele has also strengthened a few beliefs I have about good food. The original recipe cannot be surpassed or bested. Whether it's Biryani from Hyderabad or Pizza from Naples, the original is always the best. Secondly, the best food is not served in fancy settings or Michelin-starred restaurants, but in small, simple places like Da Michele. The trip has also made sure that whenver I bite into a Pizza slice, I will definitely remember the small Pizzeria in a crowded bylane of Naples and long to go back.

A love affair begins

Hold on! Its not what you think, this is a love affair with a difference. No dates, no gifts, no quarrels, no making up and sadly no making out. This is a love affair with a city! Yes, a city. A city with a difference, a city like no other. Fasten your seatbelts and get ready for a rollercoaster ride, coz tonight we're talking about Barcelona!
Even before we left for Barca, friends had given us a fair idea about the rocking place that it was. But till we reached the city and got out of Liceu metro station, we were yet to know what we were dealing with. Our first sight of Barcelona was La Rambla, a wide pedestrian street in the centre of the city that is equally popular with tourists and locals. Choc-a-bloc with roadside cafes, bizarre street performers and regular people, the sheer amount of life in the city left us speechless and I guess we spent at least 10 minutes standing agape at the metro exit.
Our first meal in Barcelona was dinner at an Indian restaurant. Now, I wasn't keen on having Indian food in Europe, but after almost a month away, my friends were longing for it. So I reluctantly agreed to accompany them, and as expected was disappointed by the quality of food. I was in Catalunya and wanted Catalan food. So the next morning, when my friends headed back to the Indian restaurant for lunch, I went to a place that is an institution, not only in Barcelona, but in all of Catalunya. I went to Restaurante La Fonda.
Located in a small alley off La Rambla, this restaurant was huge. It had a humongous dining hall with an equally huge mezzanine floor and basement. And yet, I had to wait for quite a while before I got a table. The menu consisted of traditional Catalan fare and I started with a classic - the Escalivada. Mine consisted of bell peppers, with mince meat stuffed in a tart and served with white sauce. Needless to day, it was perfect. For the main course, I ordered Pork Roast Catalan style. Big chunks of pork served with potatoes, onions, bell peppers and a tangy sauce. Delicious it was, but quite a task to finish. Half a kilo of pork and two pints of San Miguel were consumed before I could be absolutely sure about skipping dessert. After that blissful meal, walking to Port Olympic to catch up with my friends looked like a mean task.
We lived it up that evening. Watching surfers at Barceloneta beach, cocktails at HardRock Cafe, partying at Maremagnum, we did it all. Tired, we went back to our hostel at around 4 am. And true to its spirit, Barcelona was still alive and kicking. The restaurants had closed but people were still strolling on the Rambla and no kidding, there were long lines outside some of the night clubs.
The next day was plagued by strained finances and for a quick bite, we headed to the ever popular Bagel Shop. This is a small cafe in a lane off the Rambla that serves Bagels with toppings of your choice. It was time to go Catalan again and I topped my Bagel with among other things, the Butifarra sausage. Simple but good, and a perfectly good meal if the budget is tight.
It was time to leave that evening and at Sants station, looking at my friends' faces, I could tell that they were in love with the city too.
On a serious note, Barcelona left a big question mark in my mind about how we have chosen to lead our lives. How the rat race in other big cities drives the simple joys of life into oblivion. But it also answered the very same question. For Barcelonetas, fun is serious business. Be it strolling the Rambla or surfing on the beach or more importantly, supporting their darling football club, Barcelonetas do everything with passion. Barcelona has shown me as I am sure it has shown countless others, how important it is to have fun.
So what are you waiting for? Pack your bags, take the next flight and go. Go!! Now!!

Austria Conquered!!!

After the Oktoberfest fiasco, it was time to head to our next destination - Austria. Well, I know it's not really known for it's food, but what the hell, it was part of our plan. And surprise surprise, it turned out to be the setting for one helluva foodie story.
Our first stop was Salzburg, home to Mozart and 'The Sound of Music'. Most of our time here was spent getting over the hangover of Oktoberfest. We had to check into a slightly high-end hotel coz all the youth hostels were fully booked. But you know what you get when you check into a slightly high-end hotel, dont you? A sumptuous breakfast buffet, that's what you get! Chocolate cereal, marmalade, ham, bacon, salami, it was all there. After the breakfast however, there wasn't much to right home about in Salzburg - atleast on the food front. Lunch meant some pasta and dinner meant McDonald's. It was beginning to look like this was gonna be a dissapointing trip for Mr. foodie. Till we arrived in Vienna.
I wasn't expecting Vienna to be any different from Salzburg when it came to food. But there was one thing I wanted to try. The Hot Dog I had seen Anthony Bourdain try in one of the episodes of No Reservations. Its called the Wurst in German and comes with your choice of German sausage. So the Wurst stand outside our hostel was the first place I went to the next morning. I had my Wurst with the best-known German sausage - the Frankfurter. Pretty damn good, I must say. I thought I had scaled the peak of Austrian food, till I went to lunch at a traditional Austrian eatery.
I was with two friends - both carnivores - and after browsing the menu for a while, we decided that the meat platter was our safest bet. And boy were we wrong! When the platter arrived, we realized that the bet was anything but safe. The platter was loaded with meat enough to feed a banquet. The embarrasment on our faces was a perfect photo-op and the entire clientele - and staff - had smiles on their faces, some were even giggling! We started with the meat nervously even as we tried to hide our embarrasment and tried hard not to look at any of the smiling staff or customers.
I thought that we'd be left to ourselves after a while, but that wasn't how the script was written. The smiling, giggling and commenting continued! After a while, I had had enough. This was too much to take for a foodie. I had to come out of this with my head held high. That's whan I told my friends, "Guys, we are better than this. We are gonna finish this damn thing, no matter how long it takes!". That was it, game on! We attacked the platter with a new found vigour and egged each other on when we thought we were getting too full. It took a lot of time and a lot of extra Coke but in the end we managed. The smiles on people's faces turn to astonishment as we walked out, obviously exhausted.
With this latest victory behind us, it was soon time to leave Austria, but not before I tried the Wurst again, this time with another German sausage - the Bratwurst. The picture on top of the post will tell you, it was only better than the first one. As our train started moving out of Vienna, the title for this post struck me - Austria Conquered!!

Oktoberfest!!

No smart titles on this one. This is Oktoberfest, a one of a kind occasion, not to be messed with. The largest and most popular beer festival in the world. It had been a dream since the day I saw it on TV for the first time. So its obvious that it was very high on my to-do list when I embarked on a 3-month trip to Europe.
By the time we got tickets to Munich, Oktoberfest was about to end which meant that we could get there only on the last weekend. The scale of the event and the build-up meant that expectations were sky-high when we got there.
It was raining when we got off at the train station in Munich which meant that we were soaked by the time we got to the venue. Thankfully we got there by 10 am, so getting a place in one of the tents was easier. What was our tent called again? Damn, cant remember the name. These long tongue-twisting German names! Anyway, we settled in quickly enough and got down to business. Eight mugs of beer, holding a litre each, were promptly brought to our table. And it got better when we were told that it was Paulaner beer, specially brewed for Oktoberfest! The beer was accompanied by the quintessential Oktoberfest snack, the Pretzel. Freshly baked and salted, it was the perfect accompaniment for the beer. The beer was so good, that the beer back in Toulouse tastes like piss now!
Meanwhile hunger pangs set in and it was time to order food. This reminded me of the delicacies I had seen on TV and I promptly ordered the full roast chicken. It disappeared off the plate quickly enough but frankly, I've had better chicken. More beer was being ordered and somewhere between my second and third litre, I decided to go for Schweinhaxen, the German style pork knuckles, another Oktoberfest special. And again it was ordinary. Some of my friends ordered Frankfurter sausages with mash potatoes which were good enough. But the day was saved by the Apple Strudel. Just sweet enough, creamy enough, it deserves all the superlatives.
Meanwhile most of us were on our fourth litre and some of us were truly sloshed. Dancing on the benches, taking random pictures, singing loudly with German strangers, it was all happening. A while later though, the party reached an anticlimax. One of my friends passed out after his fourth mug and promptly slumped on the table. That did it and a waitress asked us to leave the hall immediately. And thats how our Oktoberfest ended.
My verdict on the event? The best beer in the world, great party atmosphere, ball of a time! Food is a disappointment, but that shouldn't stop you from going to the biggest party in the world!

Marseilles and my faux pas

One week after my arrival in Europe, me and my friends make our first weekend trip - to Marseilles. It's the Provence Alpes-Cote D'azur, the French Riviera. Most of all we would be getting our first sight of the Mediterranean sea and I am predictably excited!! The thought of all that fresh catch coming out of blue waters and me devouring it has whetted my appetite already.
We walk though the busy streets of the city to it's famous Vieux Port where all the yachts are docked. A leisurely stroll onward leads us to a boulangerie where we have a mind blowing Calzone(folded Pizza). But there is one dish that I want to have in Marseilles the most. It's the Bouillabaise, a stew cooked with an assortment of fish from the Mediterranean. But I'm still coming to terms with high prices in Europe and the Euro 20 price on a single portion of the stew makes me back out. Shame?? I know. I'll do better next time, I promise.
But wait a minute, that's not the faux pas. After an awesome stroll on the Marseille coast and chilling out at a seaside cafe, its time for dinner. So we head back to the Vieux Port which is lined with affordable cafes. We pick one which offers a decently priced meal with 1 entree + 1 main course + 1 wine/beer and 1 dessert. And then comes the faux pas. I order fish for entree and main course and red wine on the side. My friend quickly pounces on the error and I am the punching bag for the rest of the meal.
However the trip to Marseille was a great one. Mediterranean Europe is what I wanted to see and that is what I got. Wondering what comes next?? It's Oktoberfest in Munich, Germany!!

Many sorries for the hiatus

First things first, sorry for not having updated the blog in such a long while. But you know what, I couldnt help it. I was preparing, preparing for something big. I was preparing to come to Europe!!
Yes, you got that right! I'm in Europe, Toulouse to be specific for a period of three months on a student exchange program. This can only mean one thing. I am gonna travel the length and breadth of Europe in search of the best grub and the best poison.
So be prepared coz for the next three months, you're gonna be hit by one mouth-watering story after another. France, Italy, Germany, England, Spain, Portugal. It's all gonna be there.
So, watch this space for more.

Bellissimo!!

Oops!! Did the title and the picture give it away too easily? Sorry for that. Yes, it is an Italian restaurant. And in Kolkata this time. I've been living here for more than a year now, so it's only fair that I write about at least one of its restaurants.
Well, I did not discover the place, the credit for that has to go to one of my friends on campus. The first visit was forgettable considering the fact that we spent a ridiculous amount of time roaming around Little Russell Street - stoned - looking for the place. When we got there, my friend realized that he was too drunk already and halfway through his Risotto, left the table and threw up in the restroom.
Oh, I almost forgot, the place is called 'Fire & Ice'. So, the next visit was on Christmas Eve. This time there were three of us and believe it or not, we ended up stoned and spent 15 minutes looking for the place AGAIN!! But when we got there, we were treated to a meal none of us is likely to forget for a long time. Here's a summary.
Tomato soup - Super-duper thick and comes with a generous helping of Parmesan cheese. My thumbs up!!
Foccacia - Isn't this supposed to be an Antipasta?? It was almost bigger than a regular pizza. Very nicely done as well.
Pizzas - We ordered a Proscuitto e Funghi (Ham and mushroom topping). It was perfect, had a super thin crust and was a welcome break from the Domino's and Pizza Hut routine.
Pasta - Penne with Pesto. A very good combination and again, it came with a lot of Parmesan.
Dessert - This was probably the best part. The piece de resistance. Crepes with different fillings (sugar n lemon, honey, nutella) and - hold your breath - Strawberries in White Wine. The most innovative and brilliant dessert idea I’ve come across so far. The glass even has a little honey at the bottom.
I've been to Fire & Ice several times after that night and what is really remarkable is that not a single food item I’ve had there has ever disappointed me. I've introduced the place to a lot of my friends on campus and all of them are hooked on. So the next time you're in Kolkata do take the time to go. And yeah, don’t go stoned!!

And then there is Bourdain!!

Chefs. They are a peculiar species. You could call them a cross between executives and artists, creating and serving works of art (well, sometimes) and running a kitchen for a professional enterprise all at once. Let's look at some of the best in the business.
Ferran Adria - El Bulli, Spain
Gordon Ramsay - Various restaurants
Thomas Keller - French Laundry, LA
Nobu - Nobu's, various locations
Famous, talented and awe-inspiring they are, but there is one who has chosen to be radically different from all of them and has in the process created a fan following his peers could only dream of.
Womanizer, two-pack-a-day smoker, self-confessed cocaine and heroin addict, vegetarian and vegan loather. Doesn’t sound like much, does he?? Hold on, don't judge him till you've read through this post. For all you foodies out there, he's a lesson on being a foodie. Ladies n gentlemen, I give you Anthony Bourdain!!

Bourdain started out by doing odd jobs in restaurants in and around the New Jersey area. But he wasn't like any of the Michelin star chefs I mentioned at the start. He was a maverick - and still is. He wasn't in it for the Michelin stars. He wasn't in it for the fame. He had two needs - he wanted women, and he wanted drugs. Being a chef gave him both. His first big break in the business was a job at an upmarket New York restaurant called Brasserie Les Halles where he is the executive chef today.
So what makes our man so special? Well there's a twist in the tale. He's taken to traveling around the world sampling cuisine wherever he goes, writing books and making TV shows while he's at it. Now, there are other travel show hosts who do this but Bourdain is different.
Firstly, there are no five star hotels or resorts or big restaurants on his show. The man eats with regular local people wherever he goes. In Portugal, it was a friend's farmhouse, in Mexico his assistant's village and in our very own Mumbai the Khau Galli. Secondly the man will eat anything; I repeat anything that is offered to him. Wanna know some of the things he's had to eat? Here goes.
(Warning: This is not for the faint hearted)

Ant-eggs in Mexico
Cobra with beating heart in Vietnam
Sheep testicles in Morocco
Seal eyeball somewhere in Scandinavia
And finally the piece de resistance -
Warthog anus in Namibia!!

Despite all his idiosyncrasies and his maverick status, the fact remains that Bourdain is a rock star and a blessing for foodies around the world. I am definitely hooked on and even you should be - if you're a foodie that is. I leave you with a list of his books and TV shows.

Bibliography

Fiction

Bone in the Throat
Gone Bamboo
The Bobby Gold Stories

Non-Fiction

Kitchen Confidential
A Cook's Tour
Typhoid Mary: An Urban Historical
Anthony Bourdain's Les Halles Cookbook
The Nasty Bits

TV Shows

A Cook's Tour - Discovery Travel & Living
Anthony Bourdain: No Reservations - Discovery Travel & Living

A gift from Canada

Well, I had asked for a bottle of Pernod Absinthe, which my friend did get, but it was accompanied by another bottle - yes, it was maple syrup. I hadn't asked for it but my friend had come from CANADA. And that's what you get when someone comes from Canada. So I thought, you know, whatever, I’ll use it as a topping. For waffles, for vanilla ice cream, for whatever needs a topping. And that's what I did for a while.
But experimenting with ingredients is a part of me and my cooking and it was just a matter of time before the bottle of maple got a piece of the action.
I was in the kitchen on a Sunday afternoon when I saw some basil seeds in a cup and decided to make falooda. Now I had apna desi Kesar and Khus syrup for the flavoring but I decided to test the maple syrup for its use other than as a topping. The end product did pass the test as far as I was concerned and also got thumbs up from mom n dad - the guinea pigs for all my culinary experiments.
Not long after that, Mr. Maple was tested again - this time in an original recipe that I had come up with in my free time. In this one, Mr. Maple had fruits, butter, rum and his old friend Vanilla ice cream for company. And this time, he passed with flying colors, winning a place on the topmost tray of my refrigerator (a place reserved for special ingredients) in the process.
For the benefit of foodies and amateur cooks, both the recipes have been included in the post. Bonapetit!!!

****Maple Falooda****

Ingredients
Sweetened Milk - 2 glasses
Basil seeds (sabja/takmariya) - 6 tbsps
Boiled Vermicelli - 6 tbsps
Maple Syrup
Vanilla Ice cream

Preparation
Soak the basil seeds in water overnight. Take two glasses. Add 3 tbsps boiled vermicelli in each glass. Add 3 tbsps soaked basil seeds. Fill each glass with sweetened milk. Add maple syrup to taste (about 3 tbsps). Top with a scoop or two of vanilla ice cream.


****Fire & Ice****

Ingredients
Bananas - 2 nos.
Alphonso Mango - 1 no.
Litchis - 8 to 10 nos.
Castor sugar
Butter
Old Monk Rum
Maple Syrup
Vanilla Ice Cream

Preparation
Slice the bananas lengthwise. Dice the mango and deseed the litchis.
Add 2 tbsps butter to a pan on medium heat. Add the fruits to the pan and sauté for 2 minutes. Add castor sugar to taste and sauté for 5 more minutes. Add 4 tbsps of maple syrup and sauté for 2 more minutes. Flambé with Old monk Rum.
Serve in two bowls and top with Vanilla ice cream.

What is it about Goans?

Seriously, what is it? Coz every time two of them meet their conversation is centered around - no prizes for guessing - Fish!!

Now, there are parts of the world where there is a bigger fish-eating culture than in Goa. Japan, for instance is probably the biggest producer and consumer of fish. Even Goa's colonial ruler Portugal has a cuisine centered around seafood. They say in Portugal, 'If it comes out of the ocean, we'll eat it!!". Closer to home, Bengalis are known for their passion for fish. And yet, when it comes to talking fish, very few others do it as frequently and as passionately as Goans.
My earliest memories of a food-related discussion are mom and dad arguing about who buys the best fish and gets the best bargains at the local fish market. Or my dad arguing with my uncle about which market in Mumbai brings in better and fresher catch - Girgaum or Citylight.

I recently spent a few weeks with my cousin in Pune when his in-laws from Mumbai decided to pay a visit. Both mom-in-law and dad-in-law happened to be Goans. Though our conversation over a few pegs of whiskey began with the upcoming elections and the political turmoil in our home state, it eventually came to the point. Over the next few hours all matters relating to creatures of the sea and those who earn their livelihood from them were discussed. Mom-in-law turned out to be an expert on the subject and was remarkably passionate about anything that involved either fish or Goa. Here are some of her quips.

'Oh you like squid? You must come home sometime. We make stuffed squid every Sunday!!'
'Fish in Goa has a different taste. You cant get that in Mumbai!!'
'Don't ever buy fish from bhaiyyas remember, only kolis!!'
'Freshwater fish is bullshit! Real fish comes from the ocean!!'

Throughout the conversation mom-in-law's face exuded passion. And every species of fish that received a mention brought a million-dollar smile to her face. By the time our conversation ended, almost all the creatures dwelling in the Arabian Sea had found mention. At the end of it all, I could only think of the tagline from a much appreciated Mastercard commercial. Here's a modified version.

1 Whole Pomfret - Rs. 500
1 dozen large prawns - Rs. 400
10 slices of kingfish - Rs. 250
1 large lobster - Rs. 1000
The look on mom-in-law's face - Priceless!!

Girgaum's Secret Revealed

The secret lies tucked away in a bylane in crowded Girgaum. Is it really a secret?
I don't quite know. Every Girgaumkar knows it. If the Girgaumkar is a carnivore, he adores it. And for every Goan in Mumbai, it's akin to a pilgrimage spot! Even Rashmi Uday Singh praises it in her 'Times Good Food Guide'. And yet, it remains relatively unknown to a majority of Mumbai's foodies.

Lets cut to the chase. I'm talking about a small grade III eatery that goes by the name 'Anantashram Upahar Griha'. It serves(mostly non-vegetarian) Goan Hindu meals and is located in the picturesque lane of Khotachiwadi at a walking distance from Charni Road station. I had last visited the place as an 8 year-old with my mother who worked at the bank next door. Back then I was too young to really appreciate what these guys were doing. Many years and several passionate recommendations later I decided to pay the place a visit.

So, there I was on a summer Saturday at 12:30 pm(I know it's a little early but the owners are known to shut shop at 2:30 for their siesta in true blue Goan style!). Let's be frank. If you're hung-up on ambience, decor n stuff, this is not the place for you. The place is small with barely eight tables, there is no paint on the walls and the owners double-up as waiters. Anyway, I seated myself at one of those tiny tables and glanced the menu written on a board hung up on the wall(Yup, no menu cards here). After some thought, I decided to go for the Mutton curry with Chapatis and rice. I also ordered a plate of fried fish(Pomfret). The meal arrived in good time and I promptly tucked in. After having eaten my fill, I washed it all down with a cup of Solkadi. The verdict was simple. It was the best Goan meal I had eaten in a long, long time. Goa Portuguesa, Viva Paschim and Konkan Cafe can eat their hearts out!

How do these guys do it? I know that it's a bold statement to make but the place even manages to beat some of the best home-cooked Goan meals. I held on to that thought as I went into the kitchen to wash my hands(Yes, the only wash basin here, is the one in the kitchen!). And then it struck me. The kitchen had no modern equipment at all. Pestle and mortar, grindstone, wood-fired stove. Food is made here like it was in old-time Goa. It's Anantashram's resistance to change that has retained it's charm, distinct appeal and most importantly, the quality of it's food.

As I walked back(stuffed) to the station after the meal, I realised how Girgaum is one place in Mumbai that has stayed the same while the world around it has changed completely. The same Chawl system, the same old-fashioned people and fesivals celebrated with the same-old pomp. Stiff resistance to change of any kind. I think Anantashram, more than any other place, symbolises the stubborn, unchanged spirit of Girgaum. Hope it stays the same, always.