I had dinner last week at the Thai Pavilion. Long had I wished to go, and this article by Vir Sanghvi tipped it over. I had to go. At least to see the coloured glasses by Super Potato. It's not fair to talk about the decor - after all Thai Pavilion is known for its food. The coloured glass jars - rows and rows of it filling up an entire wall - seem to be 3/4th filled with rangoli powder. Cute.
Now to the food.
The build-up was immense. Just last week I had read that it is the top five destinations in India - with Bukhara at the top and TP third. Till the last week, the only Thai places I had eaten were: Thai Ban (several times), The Thai Restaurant next to National College in Bandra Linking Road (now closed; I forget the name), A Thai joint in San Dimas, Calif, US; and a few Chinese eating paces that also serve Thai.
The water being served was directly bottled from the Himalayan springs. So much for the build-up! Tom Kha first, then Som Tam. The soup was nice; bland-ish, not hot enough and the veggies were - well, normal. Did not spot anything that surprised me (pleasantly!) and made me say, 'mmmmm. hhh, mmmm'. I did that on 5th Dec. when served with the T. Kha at Thai Ban.
A decidedly tepid start, I thought.
The papaya salad was, again, ok. Nothing that one did not expect a posh and famous place to serve. It was again bland-ish. The the papaya gratings could have been a tad finer and perhaps the peanut a little less coarse. Definitely more lemon juice, and a little bit of magic perhaps. Well, I had to rely heavier that I would have liked to on the sauces provided.
The portion was small considering it cost INR 500. (In fact all the portions for whatever we had that night were just under what one would expect. Hmmm. Not that we are big eaters. One likes to see a surfeit, I guess! After all there are doggie bags to consider)
By this time I was apprehensive that the meal was going only in one direction - down!!!
Then came the raw mango and water chestnut salad. Nice. But too simple. Just two basic tastes and two basic textures: the mango and the water chestnut; sour and bland. One thought it could have been made faaaaar more interesting. After all a Thai kitchen probably has the most astonishing array of condiments, sauces, dips and relishes. Once again, we all got too busy with the (four, yes, only four) sauces at the table. I asked for more - and was given a bowl of garlic in chili oil. Nice, but not Thai enough. The nam pla, though, was excellent!
By this time the main course had been ordered and we were looking at each other with trepidation. Oh Lord! What a disappointment!! I was already making mental plans - perhaps it's still not too late to nip in to Thai Ban.... perhaps one should call them, just in case...
Then came broccoli in some kind of a black-bean based gravy - very dry and aromatic. It was delicious! It went just perfectly with the plain rice. The black bean paste was flavorful, light and it did not have the bitterness that the Chinese one has. The garlic was just right. The dish was sweet and succulent and lovely!
Revived, at last!
Then came the old favourite. Green curry with veggies. It was fantastic! The best I had eaten. It had pieces of okra, plantain, barbatti and it has lots of flavours that kept popping and bursting in my mouth.
I left it mid-course to try the Phad Thai, thinking that it would be good to leave the tastiest for the last. Well the rice noodles was terrific as well. The textures were varied and perfect, the taste was fresh, the gravy was savoury enough to satiate my Indian palate. It was great! Only complaint - the portions! Oh! Did I already say that the portions were small?
Hmmm.
Well, it didn't take long to finish the noodles and get back to the rice and the green curry. Thankfully, the rice bowls seemed to be like Draupadi's - the spoonfuls kept dropping on my plate. Usually, I eat till I'm just over a-half full. That night, I was maybe a little over that. So yes, it was a nice meal, in the end!
And BTW, the service was chaotic at times, but the main server was knowledgeable. He stopped me from ordering a perfectly ghastly affair of batter-fried squashes (I have a horror for batter fried stuff), and recommended this-and-that-and-the-other. Good!
Learning: Do not order starters in this new Thai Pavilion. Go straight for the jugular. Score: 3.5/5
Showing posts with label Mumbai. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Mumbai. Show all posts
Tuesday, December 15, 2009
Thursday, January 15, 2009
28th Nov
The US offices are closed for Thanksgiving, hence not many mails. The presentation can wait. There is some attendance at work - maybe 30%? The canteen is on and I have already got my morning cuppa and idli. I was bewildered yesterday, and when I left work, a little sad. Today I am writhing in anger. And I want to spew venom here on this blog. Its an impotent attempt at doing something. The news coverage is annoying the hell out of me - everybody seems to be speaking loudly and with no coherence. I don't feel comforted. The PM said something in a weak, whiny voice that set my blood boiling. So I won't get into that.
I got an auto to come here and there are buses plying as well. When I entered, there were armed policemen in the van in front of the SEEPZ gate today. They looked just as lazy and unkempt as always. Who would trust them to save their lives? I won't. I would run; or maybe in a mad, blind run, choose to attack those who wish to harm me. I would be dead in the most likely scenario.
Back to the screen - there is smoke billowing out of the front of Taj now - must be some botched attempt at rescue, or maybe the chaps inside are lighting all the furnishings? I remember going up to the top-floor suite once to visit a rich American cousin. The room was tiny, the roof was low, the bed was huge, the doors were narrow, the bathroom was shiny but without any character. I remember the curtains were thick and ugly and had three layers. The upholstery everywhere was soft. So it must be an arsonist's delight, this Taj.
The three police honchos who died yesterday - I can see repeat pictures of them and can't help wondering - why the heck did three top guys need to go in the same jeep? I'm familiar with Karkare's name, and the little bit of the Malegaon thing; he seemed to be a smart guy, with his wits about him. I bet his last thoughts must have been, 'fuck, what a chutiya I am to die like this!' And did you look at his helmet? And his tiny, frayed flak-jacket? In fact, even as I write I can see more policemen in front of the Taj barricades; none are in flak-jackets, and two are bare-headed. Why do we have jokers to protect us? We in India are not that poor, surely?
More news pouring in - all are condemning the attack, rah rah, and we have a grim faced Pranab saying something that seems to be in English. But then I am illiterate in that version of the lingo. I am not interested in his bakwas. I'm curious at this stage to know what happened to the hundreds who were caught at CST. No update yet on that. Perhaps the crowd that was caught in the crossfire was not as glamorous as this crowd. Or maybe the killing ended too soon and there is nothing else to report from the 'scene'.
Its lunch. I'm hungry.
I got an auto to come here and there are buses plying as well. When I entered, there were armed policemen in the van in front of the SEEPZ gate today. They looked just as lazy and unkempt as always. Who would trust them to save their lives? I won't. I would run; or maybe in a mad, blind run, choose to attack those who wish to harm me. I would be dead in the most likely scenario.
Back to the screen - there is smoke billowing out of the front of Taj now - must be some botched attempt at rescue, or maybe the chaps inside are lighting all the furnishings? I remember going up to the top-floor suite once to visit a rich American cousin. The room was tiny, the roof was low, the bed was huge, the doors were narrow, the bathroom was shiny but without any character. I remember the curtains were thick and ugly and had three layers. The upholstery everywhere was soft. So it must be an arsonist's delight, this Taj.
The three police honchos who died yesterday - I can see repeat pictures of them and can't help wondering - why the heck did three top guys need to go in the same jeep? I'm familiar with Karkare's name, and the little bit of the Malegaon thing; he seemed to be a smart guy, with his wits about him. I bet his last thoughts must have been, 'fuck, what a chutiya I am to die like this!' And did you look at his helmet? And his tiny, frayed flak-jacket? In fact, even as I write I can see more policemen in front of the Taj barricades; none are in flak-jackets, and two are bare-headed. Why do we have jokers to protect us? We in India are not that poor, surely?
More news pouring in - all are condemning the attack, rah rah, and we have a grim faced Pranab saying something that seems to be in English. But then I am illiterate in that version of the lingo. I am not interested in his bakwas. I'm curious at this stage to know what happened to the hundreds who were caught at CST. No update yet on that. Perhaps the crowd that was caught in the crossfire was not as glamorous as this crowd. Or maybe the killing ended too soon and there is nothing else to report from the 'scene'.
Its lunch. I'm hungry.
27th Nov
I am at work right now. I have logged on to the online IBN CNN news channel - the volume has been tuned down, and I keep checking on what's being shown every few minutes. I'm not really interested in finishing the presentation slide that I started yesterday. I don't care if the deadline is tonight. I'm caught in the scenes of unfolding terror, I can hear random bullets being fired and an occasional bang, maybe of a grenade? Is this Mumbai, my Mumbai, or is this West Bank, or Fallujah, or Chechnya, or Karanchi?
I stepped out a while back - and all is as usual here in Andheri East. A couple of police vans on the door, and maybe a lesser traffic, one can't be sure. The vada - pav guys is doing brisk business, the paal-wala has a line of three people, the new-vendor's stall is missing, but the nariyal-pani stall has a person eating the 'malaai'. I can see a small jam ahead of me near the Rolta building and there are idle pedestrians all over. No one seems to be in any hurry or in any concern of what is happening in deep south of the city. I don't feel any urgency either - it might be happening in another country, anywhere. This is puzzling.
I am back in my cabin, the news is just as before - more shots, more smoke, more screeching news from frenzied reporters. It seems I have entered a dark, mad world again. I am glued. The fear is returning, I can feel the heartbeat thumping against the rib-cage. I abandon all pretence of work.
It seems there is a gun-fight now at Nariman House as well. However on the screen I can see two stray dogs in front of the house and hardly any NSG guys - in fact none; just some slovenly policemen and a bearded gent in white. It seems there won't be any more cricket either. Once England wakes up we'll know for certain. Anyway it was a 5-0 bluewash. I am hungry and need sustenance.
Every now and then I can see the first pictures of the terrorists - a chap in a blue duffel bag, short and stocky carrying an automatic in his right hand, face with one streak of what seems blood. The picture has done something to the eyes - they seem to be glowing - like the obsessed girl in Exorcist. I feel uncomfortable looking at the picture. The platform is empty - they have killed everybody on it? The air conditioning is making me shiver. I want to go home now.
I stepped out a while back - and all is as usual here in Andheri East. A couple of police vans on the door, and maybe a lesser traffic, one can't be sure. The vada - pav guys is doing brisk business, the paal-wala has a line of three people, the new-vendor's stall is missing, but the nariyal-pani stall has a person eating the 'malaai'. I can see a small jam ahead of me near the Rolta building and there are idle pedestrians all over. No one seems to be in any hurry or in any concern of what is happening in deep south of the city. I don't feel any urgency either - it might be happening in another country, anywhere. This is puzzling.
I am back in my cabin, the news is just as before - more shots, more smoke, more screeching news from frenzied reporters. It seems I have entered a dark, mad world again. I am glued. The fear is returning, I can feel the heartbeat thumping against the rib-cage. I abandon all pretence of work.
It seems there is a gun-fight now at Nariman House as well. However on the screen I can see two stray dogs in front of the house and hardly any NSG guys - in fact none; just some slovenly policemen and a bearded gent in white. It seems there won't be any more cricket either. Once England wakes up we'll know for certain. Anyway it was a 5-0 bluewash. I am hungry and need sustenance.
Every now and then I can see the first pictures of the terrorists - a chap in a blue duffel bag, short and stocky carrying an automatic in his right hand, face with one streak of what seems blood. The picture has done something to the eyes - they seem to be glowing - like the obsessed girl in Exorcist. I feel uncomfortable looking at the picture. The platform is empty - they have killed everybody on it? The air conditioning is making me shiver. I want to go home now.
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