Hand To Mouth

I’m back in Canada again. Don’t ask, it’ll just make you sad. And strangely - instead of being in Toronto with my family, I’m in Montreal (a city I lived in for five years … five years ago) having a mini-vacation. Again, don’t ask - suffice to say, in two days I’m heading to Toronto to take care of some sad family affairs.

But for now, I’m making lemonade with lemons, visiting old friends and old eating favourites, and it’s interesting to hunt down my previous tried and true eating experiences on a cold, 5-year-old trail. This seems to have affected bar selection most, but I had a few nasty surprises when I tried to track down that old hole-in-the-wall eating place only to find it closed. Fortunately, there appear to be some institutions that continue to stand the test of time.

Read the rest of this entry »

Many of you may remember the post in which I struggled with coming to terms with my grandmother’s terminal illness (and the shockwaves running through my family at the news), eventually finding solace in cooking. Well, tomorrow I’m flying back to Canada again, as it appears my grandmother has only a day or two left, to spend some time with my family and say goodbye. It seems fitting, since I wrote about her cooking at the beginning of her illness, that I should revisit it at the end - as food and cooking were always so integral to who my grandmother was.
Read the rest of this entry »

So I’ve been playing with time a little bit in my last few postings - first I was in London, then Canada, then Nantwich, and now we’re returning to Canada for a brief almost-interlude with a beverage I must live without for approximately 11 months of the year: rootbeer.

I thought about adding a new cryptic category to our blog: “Big Yellow Taxi.” Sing a few lines to yourself and perhaps you’ll understand what I mean, but basically I wanted a category for celebrations of things I can’t get wherever I am. It’d be a big category, as both N and I have traveled a lot - and to be honest, no matter how good the food is wherever I am, I’m always missing food I can get somewhere else.

Read the rest of this entry »

Sometimes I labour under the impression that because I’m living in the UK, I shouldn’t be living my exclusively urban lifestyle - jamming myself into tubes, attending free festivals in parks, exploring art-house theatres and perusing most major gallery exhibitions in the city. No no, I should instead be ruggedly walking through highland fields in wellingtons, with a troupe of dogs following me as I look stunningly rugged in a mackintosh. Actually, I imagine myself not so different from the Queen - in, well, The Queen - when she saw the buck and urged it to run away.

Read the rest of this entry »

This past Sunday, J., our friend R. and I woke up at seven in the morning to have possibly the most wholesome day of all time — we went apple picking and antique hunting in upstate New York with our friend G.

Read the rest of this entry »

Canadian Thanksgiving was this past Sunday, October 7. For those of you confused, we have it earlier ’cause it’s colder, and thus harvest is earlier.

Anyways, I just happened to fly into Toronto from London at 17:00 hours on Sunday October 7th, was picked up at the airport by my brother, whisked back to my grandparents house in Oakville and presented with this:

My family’s basic, unpretentious Thanksgiving dinner, as it has been since I was born: Turkey, Stuffing, Mashed Potatoes, Gravy, Corn, Broccoli, Cauliflower, Cheese Sauce and Turnip Mash.

Heaven.

I have a new job, dear-readers. With it has come a new commute, and although I could view this new commute as a new soul-destroying trudge, I prefer to see it as a new trail to blaze within London, with new delights to discover along the way.

One of the most pleasant has been the sight of the two ‘caffe mobiles’ which await me every morning as I exit Highbury & Islington Station. My new commute is much longer, and after exiting the station I have about a 15- to 20-minute walk before arriving at my office. The caffe mobiles, like shining beacons of Italian civilization, serve as a pleasant rest stop and mental refueling station as I make my way towards the start of my day.

Read the rest of this entry »

After two years of runner-up prizes at the Vendies, Thiru “Dosa Man” Kumar wins NYC’s top street food award.

I couldn’t be happier about it: the man’s kept me in shatteringly murugal, totally delicious rava dosa clover since B. and I first discovered his stand in Washington Square Park. NY Dosas’ offerings are not only authentic and perfectly executed: Mr. Kumar’s veganism and commitment to seasonal cooking (pay close attention to the sambar when you slurp it) inform and enhance the dishes. The Sri Lankan ginger beer doesn’t hurt, either.

I think I speak for all of us—the food enthusiasts, the homesick South Indians, the intrepid tourists, the NYU students and faculty who love him—when I say Romba sandhosham, saar!

[Image via The New York Daily News]