When Christmas comes early

I have always been fascinated by my colonial connection. Being from Goa meant that while the rest of the country celebrated 15th August as its independence day, for us it was 19th December. It made us different and I got a huge kick out of it. My grandparents were probed constantly with endless queries about their life under Portuguese rule. Grandpa had Portuguese as a compulsory subject in school, a fact which he came to regret when I decided to learn the language from him. So it was natural that when I finally found myself in Europe, I couldn’t possibly leave without a visit to the 'motherland'.
Unfortunately, by the time a trip to Portugal became a reality, my friends had become homesick and headed back to India. So I would be making this trip alone. On the bright side, my flight to Porto was from the one city in Europe that I have the best memories of - Barcelona! I decided to get to Barca a day before my flight coz I was yet to visit the Camp Nou, home to one of my favorite football clubs - FC Barcelona. And since I was in Barcelona, I couldn’t resist going back to La Rambla - the one street in Europe so vibrant and buzzing with life, it makes the Champs Elysees look pale. Barcelona never fails to surprise you and while strolling in one of the Rambla's bylanes I came across a Gelataria. A lot was on offer and I picked one of the desserts rather than the regular ice-cream. Banana-stuffed waffles topped with Vanilla ice-cream, chocolate sauce and loaded with pralines - Brilliant! A work of art, just like everything else in Barcelona. After a visit to Estadio Camp Nou the next day, I headed for Girona from where I had a flight to Porto. After a Ryanair journey that took two hours instead of one and scared the shit out of all the passengers (they were actually clapping after landing), I was finally in Porto.
After a rather longish ride on the metro, I got off at Bolhao and saw a huge cloud of smoke at the exit. There was no need to worry though, it was winter and time for Castanhas Assadas - roasted chestnuts sold all over Portugal by street vendors. I bought a few and devoured them on my way to the hostel. After a quick check-in, I headed out for a stroll. What struck me immediately was how each and every street in Porto was lit up for Christmas. Moreover, every street had its own pattern of lighting. Buses went past with 'Feliz Natal (Merry Christmas in Portuguese)' written on them. When I asked a man on the street for a lighter, he too said "Feliz Natal" after my Obrigado. At Aliados square, there was a six-storey high Christmas tree with elaborate decorative lighting on it and an artificial ice-skating rink for kids. What's so surprising about all this you ask? Well, it was the 7th of December. Looks like Christmas comes early in this part of the world.
After a quick visit to the famed Ribeira district, it was time for dinner for which I had the perfect plan in mind. As always, a local specialty. A meat bonanza. The Francesinha! Porto is known for its meat and Ham and Sausage-making tradition and the Francesinha is what captures it best. Wet-cured ham (Fiambre), a spiced Portuguese sausage called linguiça, roast pork and beef steak stuffed between two slices of bread, covered with Saloio cheese, baked (so that the cheese melts) then drenched in tomato and beer sauce and loaded with French fries. Are you salivating already?

Restaurants serving Francesinha can be found all over Porto and I wasted no time in entering an affordable-looking one near Aliados. I ordered beer in anticipation of a heavy meal and was served Porto's very own brew - SuperBock. It was an excellent beer and the waiter even served assorted meat and fish cutlets - all complimentary! The Francesinha was brilliant too and once again, I was stuffed on my way back to the Hostel.
The next day started with a walk through Porto's famous market - the Bolhao, which was very close to the hostel. Fresh fish, big chunks of ham, a huge variety of sausages and vendors shouting at the top of their lungs - it was a heady mix. Porto has a lot of interesting sights and I managed to catch quite a few of them that morning - splendid Azulejos (tile paintings) at Sao Bento railway station, Sao Francisco church ( I have never seen so much gold in one place), and the Douro riverside. But the moment of the trip came when I was in another famous church - Igreja dos Clerigos - and a group of youngsters at the altar started singing Christmas Carols in Portuguese. I cannot describe the feeling - I am so happy to be here! I don’t care if I am alone, I don’t care if my friends are not with me, they are the ones who missed out. This trip is a Christmas gift! - that's how I felt.
After all of this, there was one last thing left to do in Porto - taste and buy Port Wine. After years of drinking the cheap Wedding Bells brand that came from Goa, it was time to try the real thing. Signs of the Port-making tradition can be seen everywhere in Porto, especially in the traditional boats called rebelos that were used to transport the wine down the Douro in medieval times and are still seen parked on the riverfront.

The Port Wine lodges are located in a town called Vila Nova de Gaia which is across the river from Porto and I got there by crossing the Dom Luis bridge - built by Gustav Eiffel in his characteristic style. There are several wine lodges in Vila Nova -Taylor, Croft, Sandeman, Calem etc. I went to Taylor's, the best known lodge only to be disappointed when the guard said "Segunda só (Mondays only)". So Croft it was. Thankfully this one was open to visits and it did not disappoint. It had a plethora of equipment traditionally used to make Port Wine and also, some of the oldest barrels used to store it.

There is an Old Portuguese proverb which says 'Every wine would choose to be Port if it could'. I couldn’t agree more when I tasted some of the vintage stuff. I bought a bottle of Tawny (a bottle of vintage can be really expensive) on my way out.I don’t know how to explain it but Porto was the one place in Europe that I found the most welcoming, I felt at home here. I don’t know why, maybe because I knew the language, maybe because of the Christmas spirit. But I felt a certain joy here that I did not feel in the rest of Europe. I will return for sure.

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.