The Most Crowded Place on Earth

To really experience a new city, you should visit one of its public markets. Having visited public markets in the US I know they can be quite crowded on the weekends, but in a country like India with a population of nearly 1.2 billion people, I had no idea what I was in for when I visited the Krishnarajendra Market in Bangalore last summer. The Krishnarajendra Market, also know as the Bangalore Central Market or City Market, is an enormous public market with entire floors dedicated to food, flowers, cooking equipment and parts for heavy machinery, really! At times while I was walking through the market, it was obvious that I was in one of the most crowded places on earth!

It would really be hard for me to do the market justice with words, so please, enjoy these pictures and try to imagine what it was like walking through Bangalore's Central Market. It was an experience of a lifetime and one I hope I will never forget.

 

 

Under the Cloak of Darkness

Sight. Sound. Smell. Touch. Taste. These are the five senses. When eating out at a restaurant, your meal starts with your eyes; What do see when you walk in the front door? Is the restaurant warm and inviting? What do you smell? What do you hear? Before you even look at a menu your eyes, ears and nose are setting you up for your dining experience. How the food looks, smells, and feels in your mouth is just as important as how it tastes and these are all things taken into consideration when chefs design and execute their culinary creations.

All five senses play an equally important role in your dining experience, so what would happen if one is taken away? What if you could not smell your food? How it tastes would certainly be affected by your loss of smell. Just think about how your meals taste when you have a cold or your seasonal allergies are bothering you. When you can't smell your food, it loses almost all of its taste. What if you could not taste? How the food feels in your mouth would certainly be affected, especially if you can smell it without tasting it. If you could not hear, part of the excitement of eating in a restaurant would be missing. You could not hear the sounds of the kitchen or the sounds of other diners enjoying their meal. You could not hear sounds of forks, knives, and spoons scraping and sweeping across the plates. Now what if you could not see what you are eating? How would your sense of smell, taste, touch and sound be affected?

Before you take your first bite, your eyes play an important role in setting your expectations for what you are about to eat. When I ate sheep brains in India earlier this year, my eyes told me that I was eating brains, there was no doubt about it. My sense of touch played an important role in my experience as well; the brains were soft and creamy and the texture was entirely unfamiliar. The taste of the sauteed brains was insignificant in the overall experience; they were quite mild in flavor but the sight and feel of the brains on my tongue and in my mouth is what I remember most. Without seeing the brains first, seeing the very familiar shape and contour of what is undoubtedly brain, the experience would have been completely different.

I am fortunate that my job takes me to many interesting and unique places in this world and India is certainly one of them. Earlier this month while in Berlin, Germany I had an amazing dining experience that is becoming more and more popular with each passing day. More people are hearing about it, more people are experiencing it. The "it" is eating in complete darkness. Known as dark restaurants or blind restaurants, they can actually be found all over the world and in most, the entire staff is either blind or visually impaired. I first heard about one in Zurich called blindekuh, or Blind Cow,  when a friend visited and gushed over the whole experience. Then, shortly after I heard about blindekuh, I was watching Hell's Kitchen on FOX and Gordon Ramsay took the red team to Opaque in Santa Monica, another dark restaurant. Knowing about blindekuh in Zurich I was hoping for a trip to Switzerland in the near future that would allow me to try the restaurant but things fell into place when I arrived in Berlin a few weeks ago.

Hanging outside of the elevator at my hotel was a small board displaying small business cards for all sorts of restaurants and tourist attractions in the city. One of the business cards was for a dark restaurant called unsicht-Bar. Unfortunately they were fully booked during the few days I was in the city but one of my colleagues discovered another dark restaurant in the city called Nocti Vagus, and booked us an 8pm reservation on our last night in the city! I was so excited, I could not wait!

As my colleague Jenny and I arrived at the restaurant, I immediately began scanning the restaurant with my eyes, knowing that I will soon be in complete darkness. I want to see as much as I can in the lit spaces of the bar before entering the completely dark dining room. The bar area was dimly lit with dark chocolate brown walls accented with vanilla creme trim. The wall behind the half-circle bar sports several glass shelves displaying top shelf liquor attached to a painted-white brick wall. As Jenny and I sit at the bar, we are handed a menu with four choices: vegetarian, seafood, meat, or a surprise chef's menu which I'm told will be created based on my likes and dislikes. I will eat just about anything and am not afraid to try new things so I decided that I would allow the chef to create a surprise meal for me - I did not want to know what I was eating until after I ate it. Would I be able to tell what I was eating? Knowing what was on the vegetarian and seafood menus I would soon regret my chef's surprise menu choice as it was heavy on meat, but the food was good and the experience was amazing. Just before entering the pitch black dining room, Jenny and I were informed that our server's name is Wolfgang and we'll be seated at table 12R; the dining room is downstairs.

So we follow our hostess down the stairs to a long hallway with doors to the men's and women's bathrooms, both lit, and a door at the end of the hallway which we enter on our way to the dining room. This waiting area is like an airlock for light. There is a soft, dim rectangular panel that lights the small irregularly shaped room. We are informed that when the door on the other side of this closet-sized room opens the light will turn off and Wolfgang will great us, he will guide us to our table where we will be sitting side-by-side, not across from each other. Our hostess asks Jenny to stand behind me and place both her hands on my shoulders, this is how we will enter the dining room. She knocks on the door three times, the light shuts off, the door opens, and we are introduced to Wolfgang. Hello, Wolfgang.

Wolfgang takes me by my right forearm and leads us to our table; I feel folds in what I think is a carpet beneath my feet, the room is completely dark, there is absolutely no visible light, I can not see my left hand if I place it on my face. I am giddy and excited as my body tries to adjust to the darkness. The floor feels uneven and slanted under me as we walk to the table. We sit and the meal begins. Wolfgang first delivers us each a glass of prosecco and informs us that if we put the glass down on the table, we should place our hand on the edge of the table in front of us and slowly slide it onto the table in order to find our glass again. I quickly adjust to this new way of reaching for a drink as Wolfgang disappears into the darkness. Then, as if out of nowhere, we hear "Helloooo, helllooooo! I have some bread for you with a dipping sauce, your first course will be out soon" And again, Wolfgang fades into the darkness. We hear him on the other side of the dining room, he has a very distinct voice; we hear forks, knives, and presumably spoons clanking against the dishes that none of us can see. We hear voices, some loud, some soft, some close, some far, how far we wonder? How big is this dining room? Is it square, round, triangular? We have no idea how many people are sitting in total darkness. One thing that made this especially interesting for me was that being in Berlin, everyone was speaking German! I had no idea what others in the dark were talking about. Were they wondering aloud the same things that Jenny and I were discussing? Did they love the sweet, creamy bread dip as much as we did? What was it? What kind of bread were we eating? It was a hearty bread, thick, soft slices of what seemed like a multigrain bread; and the dip, it was delicious but we could not discern what made it taste so good.

Again, we hear "Helloooo, helloooo! It's Wolfgang, I'm hear with your first course. For you, [speaking to Jenny,] you ordered the meat menu, and for you, [now speaking to me as he shuffles around Jenny to my right side] you have ordered the chef's surprise menu. Enjoy!" And poof, Wolfgang disappears as quickly as he came. Not being able to see what I'm eating, I feel my food with my hands to see if I can determine what it is. It is cool to the touch, and wet. I take a bite, it's definitely some sort of meat, or is it? When I told the hostess I would eat anything, she asked if that included raw meat like steak tartar; yes, anything I repeated. So is this steak tartar that I have? There was a distinct fruity essence that I could not identify along with some salad greens that felt and tasted a bit like watercress, or maybe lamb's lettuce. It was good, but not great. The experience of trying to figure it out, however, was exhilarating.

"Hellloooo, helloooo!" says Wolfgang as he sneaks up on us once again. "How was your first course? Good, I have your second course here." Our first course plates are removed and replaced with our second course, for Jenny, more meat and for me...unknown. At that moment, I again feel around on my plate to see what I'm dealing with. I feel two chunks of meat? Oh man, more meat?! If I wanted all meat I would have ordered the meat course. Under the two chunks of what I think is meat I feel something creamy, small discs of some yet to be determined vegetable in a viscous sauce along with what felt like some wilted greens. I pick up a chunk of meat and take a bite, it is flavorful and tender, is it beef? Lamb? I think it's lamb, definitely lamb, and it's good. The creamy discs below must be potatoes, a warm German potato salad maybe? Well, I guess since I'm in Germany it would just be called potato salad. And the wilted greans, don't know what they are but they taste good. It's not spinach. The consistency is that of wilted romaine, but in Germany, it can't be romaine, can it? Well again, its good, but not great. The joy is in trying to figure out exactly what I am eating. Fortunately I will find out what I ate at the end of the meal.

At this point it's around 9pm and you're wondering how I know this since there are no visible clocks and I have willfully resisted the urge to look at my watch which has illuminated hands. I know its 9pm because the live show is starting! Besides the draw of eating in the dark, Nocti Vagus has live shows each night and this night it is a live band. It sounds like a two, maybe three piece band and they sing covers. Some German and some English songs - they played a Prince song, and very well I might add. The band's instruments are plugged in and amplified but we can not see any lights or flashes to indicate this. As the band wraps up their final song Wolfgang sneaks up on us again! "Hellloooo, hellloooooo! It's Wolfgang. Did you enjoy your second course? How about the show?" "Yes, thank you Wolfgang. Everything was great," we say. "Okay, I'll be right back with your final course. Would you like anything else to drink?" "Yes, please, two more glasses of prosecco." And Wolfgang disappears into the darkness once again.

"Hellooo, hellooo. I have your final course here. Your spoon is at 12 o'clock. Enjoy!" As Wolfgang is about to place my plate on the table I simultaneously reach for my spoon expecting that I will need it and Wolfgang puts the plate down on my arm, almost dropping it. "Sorry!" I say and quickly retract my arm. Once the plate is safely on the table in front of me, I again go feeling around with my fingers. What I feel is a round form of something gelatinous and what can only be described as some whipped cream next to it. There is no question what real whipped cream feels like and one bite confirms my suspicion. On top of the whipped cream is something that feels an awful lot like mint and one taste leads me to believe that it is some sort of mint. The gelatinous form on the plate is chocolatey, rich, and nutty. Is it hazelnut? I think so. We finish our meals and call Wolfgang over, letting him know we are finished and ready to leave.

With my hands placed firmly on Jenny's shoulders this time, Wolfgang leads us to the exit. Again, the floor feels uneven and slightly sloped, but is it really? In the lightlock room, we meet Wolfgang in the light. He has less hair than I expected but he doesn't look that much different than I pictured him. Jenny told me he looked nothing like she expected. We shook hands and thanked him before leaving the small staging room for the long hallway back to the stairs leading to the bar.

Once back in the bar, we settle our bill with the kind woman who brought us to the dark dining room earlier in the evening and I learn what it was I had eaten. First Course: Lamb Tartare with Plum Vinaigrette. Second Course: Herb Crusted Veal with potato salad and some word I can't remember and didn't write down [German cabbage]. Third Course: Chocolate Almond Mousse with Whipped Cream and an Edible Flower. My suspicions were incorrect for the stars of both my first and second courses, and I misjudged the nut in my chocolate mousse. Either way, this was an amazing dining experience and even though I wasn't thrilled about eating so much meat, I loved it anyway. I can't wait to try this again in another city, preferably one where the general population speaks English!

I was not sure what to expect going in other than that my other senses might be heightened in the absence of sight. I was constantly repositioning my head trying to use my ears to triangulate my position in the unfamiliar space. My eyes were always scanning the darkness, darting back and forth, searching for any sign of light to remind me they still worked. And even though Jenny and I chatted throughout the entire meal, I was quite conscious of the fact that I was not always looking in her general direction. I was looking this way and that way, listening, searching, wondering. I became more aware of my sense of touch, relying on it to give me hints of what I was about to eat. My sense of taste, felt depressed. I was never certain of what I was eating, except for the potatoes and parts of my dessert. 

Jenny and I discussed our excitement and our interest in the whole experience. We were constantly trying to determine the number of diners, the size of the room, and our position in the room relative to the door through which we entered. We were trying to figure out what was on each others plates. We couldn't seem to agree on where the entry door was but we could agree on one thing with absolute certainty - we had an amazing time eating in the dark!

If you are interested in hearing about one person's experience at blindekuh in Zurich, have a listen to this audio postcard from NPR producer Adam Burke.

Better yet, if you live in one of these following cities, go experience dining in the dark yourself: San Diego, San Francisco, Los Angeles, Toronto, Montreal, London, Paris, Barcelona, Berlin, Zurich Prague, Moscow, Tel Aviv or Melbourne. There are even dark restaurants in Beijing, Shanghai and Hong Kong where unlike the rest of the world, the waitstaff wear infrared goggles. If you do your own research, you will even find that there is a restaurant in New York where you can eat in the dark, except at this Greenwich Village spot, CamaJe Bistro, you wear a blindfold, what fun is that?! But fear not, citizens of New York, Dans le Noir of London, Paris and Barcelona will be opening a new restaurant in Manhattan in April 2010!

Have you dined in the dark? Tell me about your experience eating without sight.

The making of a crepe in Paris

Back in August I flew Air France to India which meant flying through Charles de Gaulle airport. It also meant a lengthy layover in a less than optimal airport terminal. On my way back home I had five hours to kill and there is very little in the way of food or entertainment in CDG. Fortunately I had a business trip to Paris last April and learned my way around the city in the few short days I was there. My luggage was checked through to Boston so when I landed in Paris, I got another stamp on my passport and bought myself a rail ticket for the RER into the city for some breakfast.

Thirty minutes later I hopped off the train at the Châtelet Les Halles stop, walked a few blocks to the river Seine, and crossed the bridge over to the Notre Dame de Paris. Having been here in the spring, I knew there were plenty of crepe stands in the shadow of the cathedral, and I was on the hunt for an egg and cheese crepe. At the end of Rue du Cloître Notre Dame, behind the cathedral, I found Brasserie Esmeralda. It had just opened for the day and I was the first customer. This meant I was able to see how the crepe griddle is prepared at the beginning of each day, and no crowds.

The first step in preparing the griddle for a day of crepe making is adding a small nob of butter to the griddle, allowing it to melt, and finally wiping it off with a clean paper towel. It's crepe making time!

Next, a ladle of batter is poured in the center of the griddle and spread around using a wooden batter spreader. If you watched Gordon Ramsay's Hell's Kitchen this past season, you may remember the crepe episode, this spreading of batter is no easy task for the inexperienced!

Once the batter has set, it is flipped ever so carefully with a long spatula, like the ones that are used for icing cakes. For my egg and cheese crepe one whole egg is cracked onto the crepe and gently scrambled.

Next, lots of shredded cheese is added (I forgot to ask what kind of cheese is used.)

Finally the crepe is folded in eighths, wrapped in paper, and handed over to me, to eat! This delicious egg and cheese crepe needed some more salt and pepper but otherwise was very good. Nice, light, perfectly cooked crepe, tasty egg, and delicious cheese. I can't wait to go back to Paris for more crepes! I can't think of a better way to spend a layover; not only was I not sitting around the airport, I was eating crepes in Paris!

I missed my anniversary!

I can't believe I missed my own anniversary! No, not my wedding anniversary, that's in May, but the third anniversary of my first post, August 4, 2006 here on one food guy. Has it really been three years? After one hundred ninety posts, I have eaten a lot! I also have a different job than I did three years ago, one that I really enjoy although still not food related, and I have traveled a lot. I've been to England, France, Germany, India, Jamaica, Scotland, and Switzerland. I've also traveled domestically to Chicago, Los Angeles, San Francisco, Napa, Sonoma, and Miami. I have eaten great food in almost all of those places and have written about many of them.

When I started writing three years ago I had just returned to Boston after a six month consulting contract in New York City. While I did eat VERY well, taking full advantage of my expense account, I had no idea that I would soon eat so well around the world. Then that winter I went to California for a week, visiting friends in and around LA then driving north to Napa and Sonoma Valleys. I ate very well there too. Later in 2007 I began the new job and my worldly travels began.

I ate snails in London, England. I devoured several crepes and some foie gras in Paris, France - I bet a foie gras crepe would be fantastic! In Frankfurt, Germany I bought the most amazing gummy bears, and a beer stein. While in Luzern, Switzerland I ate an ostrich steak, and lots of fondue, although not at the same time. And I ate many buttered pretzels, some with salami, some without. I also discovered that the city has some pretty outstanding sushi. In Edinburgh, Scotland I ate haggis, and liked it, a lot. While in Chennai, India I ate sheeps brain, it wasn't bad although the texture was a little...challenging. I only wish I was able to eat some local jerk chicken while in Jamaica. Alas, I was there on business for just a few days and never got to leave the hotel, what a shame.

So why did I start writing you ask? Fresh from six months of eating well in NYC, I was flipping through the August 2006 issue of Food & Wine Magazine and read about taking perfect food photographs and four Best-Shot Blogs were referenced . I thought, "Wow, what a great idea! I can write and I love to eat, why don't I start my own blog!" So I did. The first few blogs I visited included Chez Pim and 101 Cookbooks but my real inspiration came from some of the west coast writers I would soon come to know. I learned that LA had a burgeoning food blogger scene and Eat Drink & Be Merry, Oishii Eats, Daily Gluttony (now Rants and Craves), and Immaeatchu became regular reads. I started writing more, I came up with Tuesday's Tastings - a once weekly review of products found in Trader Joe's freezer case now currently on hiatus - and I mourned the loss of one of my favorite Trader Joe's products, Spinach and Tofu Egg Rolls.

I also starting making pizzas at home. I have nearly perfected my fig and goat cheese pizza and I owe my sister-in-law a big thanks for sharing her idea for this amazing apple, pear, goat brie and walnut pizza I made a few months ago. I always use sheep or goat milk cheeses and bake my pizzas on a stone at 475-500 degrees fahrenheit. Somes I use red sauce, sometimes pesto, and sometimes no sauce at all, just some good olive oil, salt, pepper, oregano and crushed red pepper. I love making pizza so much that I hope to construct a wood-fired pizza oven in my backyard some day.

Sometimes life can get in the way of writing, but I have always found time to eat, always. I've been to many amazing places on this great earth and have enjoyed many a great meal. As I eat and drink my way through life I will continue to share my plate with you so; I hope you decide to leave a comment every now and then to let me know you're there.

Thank you so much for reading, I'm just one food guy.

On the disabled list

Due to an unfortunate accident at my house over the weekend, my left arm is in a cast for at least the next 8 weeks - I broke my wrist. Typing is slow and difficult with one hand so I'm going to try and catch up on my "writing" with a little photo journalism. Follow me through pictures as I eat my way through Switzerland and India.

A Mudslide at the Oar

Since J and I didn't have a car with us, we never had to worry about who was going to drive while we were vacationing on Block Island. This was a good thing because every day on our way back to the Old Town Inn from our day at the beach, we stopped in to The Oar for a few drinks and a couple games of Baggo.

Opened in 1965 to help host the festivities for Block Island's Race Week, this place is still going strong and turning out the BEST frozen mudslides I have ever had; Stoli vodka blended with Kahlua, Bailey's Irish Cream and ice make simple, strong, and super tasty drink. They also pour a great dark and stormy, Gosling's Dark Rum and Ginger Beer, which J and I also consumed many of.

The food is fair but the view is phenomenal! The second picture below is the view from the bar which is outdoors on a covered porch. There are also several picnic tables with umbrellas and Adirondack chairs aplenty down on the grass outside of the restaurant. The view is of the Great Salt Pond and the marina, the sunsets here are pretty amazing.

If you're on Block Island, make it a point to find your way to The Oar for a mudslide or a dark and stormy. Head inside for a minute or two as well to check out all of the signed oars they have hanging in the indoor bar. Each year the summer staff paints and signs an oar and hangs it from the ceiling. Most importantly, relax! One more thing, I think they might be closed in the winter.



The Oar
West Side Road
Block Island, RI
401/466-8820

Eating Tandoori Chicken in Chennai

When I tell my colleagues that I like going to India, many of them think I'm nuts; twenty hours on a plane and all that air and noise pollution surely can't be fun. My response is usually something like, "I think the food is great and I get to experience things that are unique to that part of the world; India is a fascinating country. And, I like the solitude on the plane." They still think I'm nuts.

Even though I'm in India on business, the trip tends to be all about the food for me. Dinners are usually at restaurants in five-star hotels in the city, like Peshwari in the Sheraton Chola or Lotus Thai in The Park hotel. When we work late at the office, we usually eat at our own hotel, the Fortune Select Palms, in the Zodiac restaurant/lounge. The Zodiac offers a variety of foods, including a buffet full of delicious Indian offerings. My favorite dish however is on the menu, the tandoori chicken, India's version of barbecued chicken. Sure the hotel is in the south and tandoori is a traditionally found in the north, but this chicken is GOOD. It is a statler chicken breast, which means it is the boneless breast of chicken with a drumette attached, covered in spicy goodness, cooked in a Tandoor oven, and served with a wedge of lime and some carrot and cabbage slaw.


I ate this chicken twice during my last visit to India in March and I can't wait to go back and have it again. The chicken is tender, the rub is spicy, and the accompanying mint chutney (not pictured) offers both a cooling and flavorful touch to this dish.

On my next trip I'm going to explore the food stalls that line Old Mahabalipuram Road outside of my office; I may need some Pepto afterwards, but I hope it will be worth it. Remember when you're traveling, follow your nose...and your stomach. Be adventurous in life and at the dinner table.

Author's note: I'm raising money for the The Jimmy Fund and the Dana-Farber Cancer Institute to support my recent ride in the Pan-Massachusetts Challenge bike ride. Will you make a donation to support the advancement of cancer research and administration of life-saving cancer treatments?

My Favorite Indian Snack - Pani Puri

My first time going to India was last September and I didn't know what to expect. I traveled by myself and went into sensory overload when I first stepped foot out of the airport. It was 4am local time, it was hot and humid, the air was heavy and polluted, and OMG it was crowded! I made it to my hotel in one piece, took a long nap, and met my colleagues at the office later that morning.

Just prior to dinner on my first night, I was introduced to a tasty little snack called Pani puri. Literally this means water in fried bread but it is so, so much more. Pani puri is a very popular street snack in India where you will often see small carts loaded high with puri, the fried dough bread, and crowds of people surrounding the carts slurping these tasty treats one after the other. My last trip to India was this past February and I made sure to have at least a few pani puri every night, in my hotel. I did not get to try the pani puri from a street cart - maybe next time.

To make this snack, a small hole is pressed into the top of the hollow fried bread and filled with a mixture of mashed chickpea (or potato), coriander leaves (cilantro), fresh green chilies or red chili powder, cumin, minced onion and black pepper. The 'water' is a mixture of tamarind, chili powder, cumin, salt and black pepper and is spooned into the dough with the chickpea/potato mixture. Pop this snack into your mouth and crunch, a combination of sweet, spicy, savory and delicious will hit you all at once. This is definitely one of my favorite Indian snacks and I can't wait to go back for more.

Sometimes travel IS required

Have you ever traveled to a foreign country and ate or drank something that you just loved? Did you long for it when you got home ? I have. I am specifically speaking about my recent trip to India. The food just blew me away. Between the hand-made breads, the lentils, and all the delicious foods made with rice flour, I came home and missed the food. It's been hard for me to find restaurants in and around Boston that have many of my favorite food items from India. I've found some restaurants to get my masala dosa fix, but I miss panipuri and haven't been able to find it around here.

My point here is that it's possible to find a lot of the foods from your trip once you get back home, but sometimes they aren't the same. Case in point, Kingfisher beer. A brew native to India and available here in the United States, sort of. I noticed while I was in Pondicherry, India enjoying the Kingfisher pictured below, that the label on the bottle said it was for sale in the state of Pondicherry only. When I had my next Kingfisher, I was in Chennai, a city in the state of Tamil Nadu. The label on that bottle stated that it was only to be sold in Tamil Nadu. I was told that these sales restrictions have something to do with taxes and restrictions on inter-state distribution.


So now I'm home and I go out for Indian food. The Kingfisher beer that is available for sale here in the USA is brewed and bottled in Saratoga Springs, New York, under license from Kingfisher. The beer tastes noticeably different here, and while still a good beer, it is not as good as those I had while in India.

So you see, for a real Kingfisher, travel IS required!