Neville, Sheena, and a ringlight. Unedited. This was way too much fun for a Tuesday night. I’m a bad and reluctant model though so if you’re interesting looking, in Bombay and want your picture taken, hit us the fuck up. We do this sort of nonsense all the time.
So I went to school in New Zealand. It’s beautiful. I’ve been all over the country and yes, it’s exactly like the Lord of the Rings.
Exhibit A, B and C.
My favourite places in NZ are Queenstown, Kaikoura, Wellington, Whangamata and all the tiny towns where tea shops sell whitebait fritter sandwiches, and smoked hapuka pies. (Wow, I’m 24 years old and I’ve been obsessed with weird, delicious food for a long time.) But I digress. I however lived in Auckland. I didn’t like it but it had its merits. Mostly my friends, my boyfriend, baking, West coast beaches, Kingsland, my football teams, the Comedy Festival, Kohu Road icecream, feijoa wine and vodka and Monteiths beer. This post is going to be gargantuan and largely food centric (It’s me?). Brace yourself.
Auckland does burgers well. Murderburger – love their blog and sense of humour, Burgerfuel – the doofer!, Handmade Burger and Burger Wisconsin. There may be more now but these were the places I liked. And you have to get kumara chips and aioli. Good pizza lives at Al Volo in Mt Eden and Il Buco on Ponsonby Rd.
Margarita slushies and nachos and boats every week with Farnaz. I once saw the QE 2 and drank chilli infused Mexican beer. The Viaduct and the other piers are awesome before 7pm. Never after. El Camino in Kingsland and Ahsi Itzcalli have delish Mexican (and the latter Yucatan too, I think)
I’ve been to every cute bakery in Auckland. Twice at least. Hayley and I used to call it research. We personify baked goods. Our favourite bakeries/cakeries are Queenies (my review!), Agnes Curran, La Tropezziene, Philippes Chocolat, Bakeshop (formerly Brown Sugar Kitchen), Le Petit Village, Little Cake Kitchen.
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Like I was saying, I scurry over to Europe all on my own next month and will hang out in Edinburgh and catch the Fringe Festival, shoot a wedding and visit bakeries in London and drink wine and eat cheese in Paris. Despite having the Queen’s face on my currency for ten years, I am nervous as hell, because I won’t know what to do with myself (when not giggling, taking pictures and stuffing my face). If you know, I’d love a clue please.
Also, in a feeble attempt to earn brownie points and karma, I am going to blog about all the places I’ve been and haven’t, because I know there are going to be many many people who are going to save my sorry ass, point me in the direction of theatres, toilets, streets and cafes; translate my bad French and tolerate my bad fake French accent in English come August and September. Thank you in advance. You make me a happy kid.
(Source unknown)
Kunaal is back. We played with lights.
I love soup. One of my favourite folk tales is Stone Soup, where the travellers trick a whole community into donating ingredients for soup which they all share. Anyway, it’s been raining incessantly and I’ve been thinking about the soup place on Degraves St in Melbourne with the giant vats of the best soups. Anyone who has visited me in my new home knows all I do these days is stay indoors, wear (ugly) floral maxi dresses and cook. I love making things that require only a handful of ingredients, so anything on Martha Stewart is out. I’ve been making up all the recipes. Cooking by intuition. Farfalle with coriander and walnuts, salami sandwiches with avocado and pesto, tumeric and cumin roasted cauliflower. Yesterday I listened to Manu Chao, thought of Rushad and made potato soup. It was pouring outside and my house was so lovely and breezy, that it just seemed apt. I simmered it for a good hour or so but it was so melty and delicious and worth it. It was also really filling. I made up the recipe so I thought I’d type it out so I could remember it for the future. I miss this boy with all my heart.
(Garlicky-buttery) Potato soup
Serves 2
Ingredients:
5 floury large potatoes
half a cube of chicken or vegetable stock (or make your own)
3 onions
4 garlic cloves
butter or olive oil
cracked pepper
Wash, peel, dice and bring the potatoes to boil covering them with enough water. Peel and add the cloves of garlic.
Saute the onions in butter or oil over medium heat until they soften slightly and even char a wee bit. Add it to the pot and simmer. Add more water if levels get too low. Stir occasionally.
It’s done when it has a creamy consistency. Mash with a fork or potato masher until the soup is as smooth as you’d like. Taste and season.
Stir through more butter, or a spoonful of wasabi, or add tobasco if you’d like. Serve with some crusty bread.
EAT.
LISTEN.
Yesterday I woke to the sound of drums. The occasion, the Feast of Our Lady of Mount Carmel. I looked out of the window and there were people drinking and dancing in the street to a marching band. I can’t possibly explain how much I love street bands. I got a telephoto lens and sneaked a better view. Sometimes I love living in the ghetto.
Found these pictures and nearly died of happiness. Self explanatory? I think so.
Feel free to bypass this self absorbed update on my life and the indulgent things that make me happy. Mostly my new(er) apartment and my newly stocked (STOCKED!!) kitchen. Food and sunshine, who would have thunk it? I’m smitten with the world and Bombay again.
Twilight from my bedroom. And no, I haven’t seen any of the movies, ergo I am cooler than you. I love the light in my house. Sluuuurp.
My spice boxes (there was a bit of a mixup though), inventing recipes, planning ahead and making meals from scratch. French toast for breakfast tomorrow.
Pretty reflections in giant monsoon pools.
And for the few times I actually leave the house – wine, goats cheese pizza and sweet potato gnocchi at the sprawling Pali Village Cafe. Long boozy Sunday brunches at Olive, Mahalaxmi. High tea (they have DIY pani puri and the cutest sammies) at Sea Lounge at the beautiful Taj Mahal Hotel watching the boats. Note: These will leave you as poor as happy and also drunk and unable to take good photos.
Or better yet, get on a boat. I want a yacht. Argh!
On set chai. This is the best thing about the film industry. Beats egos, delays and odious little cunts hands down.
and lastly, going home to Pune to see my friends and the adorable olds. My grandparents are Goan and so kitsch, I did a photostory on them but I’m reluctant to share it just yet.
Also making plans for Europe – I’m going to Edinburgh, London and Paris next month and I’ve been scouring the internet for advice like a madhatter, trying to figure out how to bake a cake in my convection oven (I have to show you what kind of cake!), working for some amazing clients and sale season. I am but a girl after all.
