Operation Opera at The Ivy

With a breather weekend between stretches of seasonal schedule madness on my hands, I headed down to The Ivy at Jumeirah Emirates Towers for a little Thursday night live music break. And specifically this one, because of a chance to witness opera being performed in a far more casual setting than is typical for the genre, as well as the combination of two talented locally-based artists: friend and vocalist Paul Bester, and pianist/composer Dale Nichols. They made a great musical combination, expertly performing a mix of contemporary and classic operatic renditions, and taking a few requests as well. I and my companion enjoyed the performance immensely, with lovely English bites and drinks from the Ivy's menu rounding off a great Thursday night.

Yule love Scandinavian baking

Christmas baking time again, and it's a return to Europe with a tea party of Scandinavian Xmas treats. Rather than do a pan-Scandinavian, I decided to do one of the most essential Xmas bake from each of the three Scandinavian countries: Denmark, Norway, and Sweden.

Beginning in Denmark, I started with pebernødder (pepper nuts, literally). There's no pepper in them, but there's a hint of a spice or two, depending on the recipe. For mine, I used a teaspoon of ground cardamom, mixing it with 350g flour and a half teaspoon each of baking soda and baking powder. I then mixed 225g sugar with 80g salted butter, folding in an egg and then 100ml whipping cream. I combined this with the flour mixture to get a dough, kneading and adding a little flour until homogeneous and firm.

I pulled fist-sized blobs from this dough and rolled them out into long sausages on a floured board, using a greased knife to cut out inch-long segments to lay out on the baking tray for a 15 minute bake at 225C, until they got golden brown on top.

I got 48 pebernødder from this recipe. These were mildly sweet and subtly spiced, delicious eaten with hot tea, and kept well after as leftovers.

Moving on to Norway's sandkaker (sand cake). I mixed 200g butter into 250g flour to get a dense dough, adding in 100g almond flour, an egg, and 100g sugar to knead. The almond flour gives it a sandy texture to which the name refers. I refrigerated the kneaded combined dough for about an hour, covered.

I had bought special shell-shaped tartlet tins for this item; it is the traditional shape, although I could have used my regular flat tartlet baking tray had I not been able to find them. While preheating the oven to 175C, I pressed the cold dough into the tins (perhaps a little too thickly, in retrospect), and then baked them for about 15 minutes, until the edges of the tartlets became golden brown. After they were done baking, I let them cool for about 10 minutes before prying them out of the shell tins and letting them cool to room temperature. 24 sandkaker in all, and maybe half as many more if I had spread them thinner.

Lacking multe berries, I made do with raspberries to top, spread over with generous helpings of whipped cream to make a treat that appealed to the palate and eye alike.

The final baking destination was Sweden and its saffransbullar (saffron bun), also called lussekatt (after St Lucy's Day, which falls during Advent). In a mortar, I ground up 1.5g saffron with about a teaspoon of sugar, and cultured 25g yeast by mixing with 150ml warm milk and 100g warm melted butter, letting it sit for several minutes. I then added the ground saffron and 100g sugar, plus half an egg, half a teaspoon of salt.

Finally, I added 375g flour, kneading up a dough into which I mixed about 40g raisins. I let this springy dough rise, covered, for about 30 minutes in a warm place. I rolled lumps of twelfths of the dough out into small sausages, letting them sit covered for 10. Finally, I rolled them out twice as long, then rolling in the ends into double-spiral S-shapes around a couple of raisins, and letting them sit covered for about 90 minutes. Before baking for about 5 minutes each at 220C, until golden brown on top, I brushed the buns with a mixture of the other half of the egg and a couple tablespoons of water.

The buns were delightfully fluffy, sweet to the taste, and a gorgeous bright yellow color inside and out.

An Emirati feast for National Day

It's been a few years since I began my culinary tour of the world through home-cooked theme meals. December 2nd of 2014, though, would mark the day I did some "adopted home: cooking, as I finally got around to putting together an Emirati meal, in celebration of the UAE's 43rd National Day. With some downloaded Emirati traditional music playing, and with flags and flag-colored balloons decorating my apartment, I welcomed my 9 guests to the most authentic Emirati feast I could muster.

First came procuring the essentials. Samen (ghee, or clarified butter), in the yellow jar, is one of the main fats used for frying, cooking, and garnishing in Emirati cuisine. For desserts and beverages, ma2 al ward (rosewater), here in the bottle, is frequently used. If you're doing anything savory, you almost certainly will be using the Emirati spice mix they call bezar, here in the silver packet with the green label. And last, but not least, I got those two bags containing sufficient quantities of loomi (dried lime), one bag of whole and one bag of powdered. These make a world of difference in giving that distinctive aroma and taste to many Emirati dishes. They are all available in major hypermarkets around here -- definitely in Union Co-op, which visibly markets towards the Emirati demographic.

As a light starter, I made Emirati street and snack mainstay, dango, by soaking 2.5 cups of dried chickpeas overnight with 1.5 tsp soda bicarbonate, and boiling the drained chickpeas with salt and 10 small dried red chilies on low-medium heat for about an hour, until tender. For such a simple dish, it's surprisingly tasty and hearty.

For my other starter, I made the Emirati comfort food they call harees. I had about 650g of lamb on the bone and 2 cups of whole wheat (sold under the name of harees itself) boiled with 6 cups of water and simmered for two hours, until the free water had evaporated. I then added a tablespoon of salt and another cup of water for a further hour of sealed simmering.

After removing the bones, I used a handheld blender to blend it all down to a thick puree, and served it the traditional way: warm, spread into a platter, and garnished with samen. A subtly flavored dish, with a unique texture.

I made two entrees of seafood, the first of which was the Emirati staple called jesheed -- a dish made with the meat of the local baby shark. Probably because it's primarily an Emirati thing, I could only find this in Union Co-op, and you need to buy a whole shark at a time, which they will skin, gut, and partially cut for you.

I boiled about a kilogram of shark meat chunks for about an hour, until they became firm enough to easily debone and shred. While I was doing the deboning and shredding, I fried 4 sliced onions golden in vegetable oil, then adding 2.5 tbsp loomi powder, 1.5 tbsp turmeric, 1.5 tbsp bezar and 4 crushed garlic cloves to fry and let the flavors mingle. I then stirred in 5 chopped tomatoes, followed by the shredded shark meat and a little water, and simmered it all under a lid for about half an hour.

I believe this was my first time eating shark, and I found the texture a bit strange at first. But once I mentally digested the fact that this wasn't regular fish, I came to quite like the mildly spicy, umami-rich taste of this dish.

My second entree was robeyann nashif, a spicy shrimp dish that's popular at Emirati dining tables, and the curry leaves in which might indicate some influence from my own home country.

I again fried 4 sliced onions golden in vegetable oil, then stirring in 2.5 tbsp bezar, 1 tbsp turmeric, 1 tsp ground fennel seeds, 5 crushed garlic cloves, 3 tbsp loomi powder, 1.5 tsp cummin seeds, 15 curry leaves, 1.5 tbsp tomato paste, and 2.5 tbsp grated ginger for a few minutes of frying. Finally, I added the cleaned, shelled large shrimp, and cooked on low heat for about 15 minutes.

Served with store-bought markouk bread (my attempt at making regag failed, due to my lack of a proper gas griddle), this dish, with its sharp, spicy taste, turned out to be an unqualified hit, and not a lick of it remained.

Then came the main course: fogga diyay (diyay being the Emirati pronunciation of dejaj, Arabic for chicken). A fogga, known also as machboos/makboos/kabsa, is basically a dish of rice cooked in a meat stock, flavored with loomi and other spices. The previous night, I prepared its typical accompaniment, daqus (center), by pureeing 4 chopped tomatoes with half a chopped onion, 4 fresh chili peppers, and a tablespoon of hot sauce.

Late in the morning of the lunch, I rubbed in pieces of chicken (mostly drumsticks and thighs) with some salt and a lot of bezar (top), cooking them in samen until they were slightly cooked (right). I then added 6 cups of chicken stock, 3 chopped fresh tomatoes, 8 chopped cloves of garlic, 5 whole loomi, 2 large sticks of cinnamon, and 12 bruised pods of cardamom, simmering covered for about 20 minutes (bottom). Finally, I added some salt and 5 cups of rice that had been soaked and drained. Without stirring, I let this cook, loosely covered, until the stock was absorbed and rice had risen, and then placed a tight lid on it to cook for 15 minutes.

I served it hot with the daqus and some cold yogurt that had been mixed with chopped mint. The chicken was so tender that it was falling apart, and the stock had imparted a wonderfully savory flavor to the rice, all enhanced with the taste of bezar and the aroma of the whole loomi. Next time, though, I would cut the quantity of rice to half, or two-thirds at most. Rice-heavy is apparently how it's done in the khaleej, but it's too much for my tastes.

And finally, for dessert, I prepared a quintessential Emirati pudding called aseeda bobar. While this pudding can be and is made without pumpkin -- which would be just aseeda -- the bobar version is more popular for texture lent it by the pumpkin flesh.

I first steamed 850g of local pumpkin flesh cubes, while roasting 400g of whole wheat flour (top). I then mashed and mixed these together with 350g date syrup (most recipes call for honey, but I used date syrup instead, for that really local taste), a teaspoon of saffron threads, and a teaspoon of ground cardamom (bottom right), moistening as necessary. After cooking for about 10 minutes, I added 3 tbsp of ma2 al ward and half a cup of samen (bottom left), and cooked it for another 10 minutes.

I served generous lukewarm scoops of the resulting fluffy pudding with plenty of brown raisins and almond flakes, and it went down a treat with everyone.

To punctuate the meal, I prepared some core Emirati beverages. First, I made a welcome drink of aseer tazza (right), a blend of 6 cups of orange juice with 1.5 cups of lemon juice, 3 teaspoons of ma2 al ward, and sugar to sweeten.

To help wash down the entrees and prepare for the main, I brewed some chai jerfau, a "tea" made by boiling 8 sticks of cinnamon with a little sugar and 1 tsp saffron in 5 cups of water (bottom).

Finally, to end our authentic Emirati meal, I brewed some gahwa (coffee) local style by boiling half a cup of freshly ground coffee beans in 5 cups of water, and steeping it with 1 tsp saffron, 1 tsp crushed cloves, 4 teaspoons ma2 al ward, and 2 tsp coarsely ground cardamom (bottom). Served in shot quantities, it helped get all the hearty dishes and eclectic tastes of the local cuisine settled in our tummies.

Recipes based on those in "The Complete United Arab Emirates Cookbook" by Celia Ann Brock- Al Ansari (1994)

Bahria on The Beach

Just the day before I gave this place a try, I read a breaking post online about a lunch stopover by the ruler of Dubai. That kind of set the bar pretty high, I admit. I was about to tread in the footsteps of royalty.

Bahria certainly has the location going for it: the white sands and azure waters of the beach ahead matching the restaurant decor palette, the towers of JBR in the backdrop, the bustling open mall. The weather being what it is at this time of the year, throngs were thronging, and alfresco was the natural choice. Traffic at JBR is still awful, though -- it took me over 45 minutes to get to The Beach from TECOM. Next time, tram.

The pescetarian Arabesque fusion set sampling menu began with a seafood bisque (bottom right). It was not the typical bisque though, with the curry-like spices making it taste more like a laksa. Cold starters were generally good, especially the calamari salad (top right, right), the beetroot-shrimp salad (bottom left, center) and the dips. Among those the fish tajine (bottom left, right -- actually, strips of fish on hummus, not like the North African tajine) was the best, with the nutty house hummus coming in second (top right, top right). The shrimp fattet (top left) was interesting, but not really to my taste; shrimp with yogurt gave me a weird mouthfeel.

The only cold starter I could not quite take was the provençal (top); it was overpoweringly sour. The hot starters were great overall, though, and I liked the seafood kebbeh (bottom) the most -- perfect texture, inside and outside.

No complaints for the mains. The fish tasted fresh and cooked to perfection, and the sauces provided went very well with. The rice looked like it might be dull to the palate, but it was surprisingly good in its own right.

I had to skedaddle midway through dessert, but the ayesh al saraya I sampled before leaving made a perfectly sweet and creamy end to a generally very good meal.

A Sandwich Tea Party

The story goes that John Montagu, 4th Earl of Sandwich, preferred to not interrupt his card games (or his paperwork, according to another version) with a sit-down meal, and asked his servants to bring him meat between slices of bread instead. His friends noticed this, and soon began to order "the same as Sandwich", which became The Sandwich. Of course, many bread-n-stuff consumption types previous existed, including stuffed buns, wraps, and folded or open-faced forms. Two slices of loaf bread with something between them, however, has always been the "true" sandwich, and this has even been backed up by a court case (White City Shopping Center, LP v. PR Restaurants, LLC).

Choosing the Nov 13th birthday of the Earl as the occasion to celebrate this format, I made one of my theme meals centered around his namesake: a sandwich tea for a party of 6. Few meals are as aristocratic as the sandwich tea, with the emphasis on delicate, refined preparations that are only fleetingly filling, and often contain little actual nutrition.

The savory menu consisted of four of the most classic tea sandwiches: the quintessential mild cucumber sandwich, the creamy egg sandwich, the sharp cheddar sandwich and the salty salmon sandwich.

I went shopping in the early afternoon to find the freshest fillings and bread. The only advance preparation was the mixing of the chopped dill and chives with lemon juice and zest into seasoned cream cheese, and the mixing of mashed boiled egg with seasoned mayonnaise. And the de-crusting of the bread, of course.

Another little prepping process I did was that of the two layers of sponge cake for the sweet "sandwich". I retained the classic sandwich shape here, by using a square baking tin. The preparation began with 200g caster sugar mixed with 200g butter, to which 200g flour and 2 tbsp baking powder was kneaded in, followed by whipping in 2 tbsp milk and 4 large eggs to get a smooth batter. I divided this in two, baking separately at 180C for two minutes to get two flat sponge cakes.

I assembled the sandwiches in two rounds: cucumber and egg in the first, cheddar and salmon in the second. For each cucumber sandwich, I buttered two bread slices on the inside, lay out freshly-cut thin slices of extra-long, seedless cucumbers to cover a buttered surface, and sprinkled on some finely-chopped mint leaves. I used similarly buttered bread to sandwich a dollop of the egg mixture topped with some loose arugula leaves (I could not find watercress anywhere, so this was the closest available substitute).

For the second round, I sandwiched a thick-cut slice of cheddar (had the cheese guy at the supermarket do it to my specification) with a spoonful of Branston pickle between buttered bread, and a generous amounts of smoked salmon between plain slices of bread that had been spread on the interior surfaces with the cream cheese and herb mixture.

I cut up and arranged the sandwiches, garnishing each plate with a few sprigs of the herbs/leaves saved from the preparation stages of the corresponding sandwiches. While the smoked salmon and the egg were received well, the cheddar elicited especially good feedback, and the cucumber was the surprise hit of the evening. All of it went down well with a few cups of hot Earl Grey tea (Charles Grey, 2nd Earl Grey and the namesake of this tea, was, for part of his life, a contemporary of Sandwich, which made this choice of tea all the more appropriate).

When we were done and ready for "dessert", I spread clotted cream and raspberry jam over the top of one of the (now cool) sponge cakes, placed the other one on top of that, and sifted icing sugar on top of the upper cake. This "Victoria Sandwich", named after Queen Victoria, was a delightfully indulgent end to a lovely tea party, despite being exceedingly simple to prepare.

Quoz Art Festival and a spot of ISEA

The Quoz Arts Festival returned to the neighborhood this year, with a new branding, a wider audience, and a lot of food. Literally, one lane of Al Serkal Avenue, turned into a food street. A satellite attraction was the upcoming expansion of the Avenue, the construction for which was now looking much closer to completion in the plot next door.

Before taking a look around the galleries, though, I dropped in at the Fridge for the final performance of ISEA 2014: Maziar Ghaderi's Dissolving Self, featuring Vrinda Bhandula's dance performance visually augmented with a live projection behind her, controlled by her movements. It's not the first motion-controlled rendering in the world, but the simple bi-chromatic star field, coalescing, expanding and spining with her was beautiful in execution.

I only had the time to look at a few galleries. One I liked a lot was FN Designs and its exhibition of pop art, especially the long panorama of iconic aspects of Dubai life, pixelated and colored in a style reminiscent of retro computer games.

At Grey Noise, Michael John Welan's Lupus consisted of works in the metaphorical vein typical of the gallery, using different media and/or cultural symbols to wistfully allude to the demise of the Irish wild wolf.

Further afield, Mottahedan Projects' multi-artists exhibition, The Other Side of Visibility, featured a diverse and mostly interesting array of art, with my favorites including the works of Tala Madani (right), Maryam Hoseini (top left) and Habib Farajabadi (bottom left).

When in Romania, Eat

Romania has an unfortunate association with foreboding castles, vampire legends, and the Numa Numa song. Okay, the latter one can at least be technically ascribed to Moldova, but the whole Dracula thing still gives off undeserved creepy vibes. That is why I chose Halloween as the perfect day to have a party of six and celebrate the non-scary side of the country through its food, with some downloaded Romanian folk music to set the mood.

First up, an essential soup for a Romanian meal: ciorba de perisoare, a pork meatball soup cooked in a sour beef and vegetable broth.

I added two each of chopped peeled and chopped medium parsnips and large carrots (one of the parsnips can also be replaced with a parsley root, if available), a sliced onion, a chopped bunch of Dutch parsley, and about 300g of stewing beef to 6 cups of boiling water (I used 5 cups of water and one of sauerkraut juice). Once the boil resumed, I let it simmer covered for about half an hour, using the time to make the meatballs.

I made the meatballs by mashing 300g of lean pork mince with about a cup of breadcrumbs, a chopped onion, 2 tbsp uncooked rice and a dash of warm water, adding a little salt and pepper. Bringing the soup back to a boil, I hand-molded small meatballs of the mash and lowered them into the soup one by one. After the boil resumed, I once again let it simmer for about half an hour, before stirring in 3 tbsp tomato paste.

I seasoned it with a little salt, adjusted the sourness with a little vinegar (one can use just vinegar for the sourness if one does not have sauerkraut juice), and garnished with a little chopped parsley before serving with sour cream on the side.

I started the dish by draining off the juices from about 750g sauerkraut (using some for my sour meatball soup), washing the sauerkraut, and then draining and squeezing it of any running juice. I then stirred it in a hot pan with 50g of melted butter until thoroughly coated, adding 2 tsp black pepper and 1.5 cups tomato sauce before bringing to boil.

I then simmered it for nearly an hour, stirring every now and then, and adding a couple pinches of salt, a tablespoon of paprika, and half a cup of white wine, before the last 15 minutes of simmering time. This dish, verza calita, went really well with the starch, especially moderated with a little sour cream.

I also made mititei, a sort of kebab or "skinless sausage". 800g ground beef mashed in with 2 tbsp each of olive oil and water, 4 chopped and crushed garlic cloves, a half teaspoon each of thyme, red pepper and paprika, and 2 tsp each of salt and ground black pepper. I also added a little breadcrumb and uncooked rice to help bind the mash and absorb excess moisture, respectively. I formed these into sausage shapes on a greased pan, and baked at 180C for about 20 minutes.

For the starch, I made mamaliga, a sort of polenta. It's a simple one to prepare: I gradually added a cup of coarse yellow cornmeal to boiling water into which I had melted 2 tbsp butter and added 2 tsp salt. I let it cook for about 45 minutes, whisking often, until I got a thick cornmeal slurry, into which I stirred half a bunch each of finely chopped dill and chives, and 2 tbsp feta cheese.

I may have let it sit warm for too long, so it lost a little more moisture than I would have liked. In any case, it had a rich, herbaceous taste, and the grainy, mashed-potato-like texture made it a good base for the other main dishes.

I served the mititei, mamaliga, and verza calita with a dollop of sour cream and roasted chilli pepper. A most excellent combination of tastes, textures and colors.

And for dessert, I made cozonac, a Romanian Easter cake. This was a bit more complex.

I first needed to get the yeast culture (top left) done, by stirring a mixture of 4 tbsp milk and a packet of yeast into 1.5 tbsp flour that had been whisked in hot milk, also 4 tbsp.

After allowing the culture to sit and bubble, I mixed it with 2 tbsp warm milk, 2 egg yolks, half a cup of caster sugar, 60g raisins, zest of a lemon, and 225g flour, kneading with some butter to get a standing dough. Finally, I added a tablespoon each of rum, vanilla extract, and vegetable oil, kneading again, and letting it rise for about an hour.

Finally, I brushed on the yolk of an egg, sprinkled on a handful of crushed walnuts, and baked at 180C for about 45 minutes.

It did not rise as much as I would have liked, but it was baked through properly, and served after cooling, was a delicious finale to our Romanian meal.

Bombay quickie

I stepped out of the plane into a Mumbai airport far sexier than I remember. Parts of it are a tad too multi-colorful for my tastes (maybe just for Diwali?), but it's definitely swanky enough to impress for a major global air hub. One unexpected advantage of night-time flying into India during Diwali week is seeing fireworks from above, as they went off all over the city.

The ride to Vashi was long, but keeping my eyes fixed skywards got me a constant view of more fireworks. I arrived late (by Vashi standards) in the night, but I had a little time for a classic dum biryani and Haywards 5000 at a seedy old Sector 17 haunt, along with a local nightcap.

I spent pretty much all of the next day with my aunt and uncle in Vashi, catching up on the last few years over wholesome home-cooked treats, including delicious kanda poha (top center) and idli (left).

We took a circuitous walk down to and around the old holding pond, hitting a chai stall on the way back.

Late in the night, I made my first trip to Navi Mumbai's CBD Belapur area to sample some local nightlife. Rockville was the only live music place I could find in the neighborhood. I can't say I was blown away by the musicians; they were individually decent, but they could do with more some practice together to get the duo thing working in harmony. Anyway, the place had some awesome spicy russet potato wedges.

The next morning, I joined the rest of the wedding party on a trip to Pune for the reception, enjoying the smooth ride on the express road, and taking in the view of the rolling hills of inland Maharashtra. The hotel was also close to the river, so I took a walk across and about in the evening before the wedding, enjoying a hot vada pav and chai at a dhaba while a light evening rain fell around.

I slept early that night because I had to meet one of my MBA roommates the next morning, at the famous and consequently busy Wadeshwar vegetarian restaurant on FC Road. While catching up on events since our last meeting, we indulged in some delicious, fresh, and atypical (at least for me) breakfast items like buttery set dosa (top right) and aappe (bottom right). While the schedule of my short Pune trip did not allow a full Maharashtrian meal, I was able to get at least one dish in from the cuisine: kothimbir wadi (bottom left), a sort of coriander fritter with a great herbaceous bite to it. It's fine, though; I guess I can always just cook the cuisine up myself if needed.

After finally making it back to Mumbai later, I quickly checked into the surprisingly nice Hotel Airlines International before meeting a friend and heading to Mathuradas Mills Compound, where I would spend most of the rest of the evening. We started with a place I would visit just for the name: Sweetish House Mafia. There, we had a bite of sweet-salty melt-in-the-mouth Nutella with Sea Salt, their signature cookie.

Sipping at the Barking Deer next was my first ever microbrewery visit. Not so micro though -- it was actually quite large inside. We were also in 1+1 happy hours, so we each had one pint each of the mild light and strong dark specials, settling on those after sampling out of shot glasses.

Dinner followed at the nearby Jai Hind, a popular seafood spot. We were the first customers for dinner service, to boot. As a starter, we each had bombil -- also known as Bombay Duck -- rolled around prawns and fried (top right). The bombil has a lot of bones in the flesh, but these are small enough to be ignored. I can't say the taste was particularly distinctive (I should probably have it by itself, and cooked simpler to decide on that) but I liked the texture. For the main course, we enjoyed a delicious -- and extremely spicy -- helping of pomfret (top left) cooked "pulimunchi" (with tamarind and chilli).

I enjoyed the Comedy Store show at the Blue Frog much more than I thought I would. I guess I have been keeping tabs on developments in India more than I estimated. I even got the references to Savita Bhabhi (and there was more than one). Some bits went over my head all the same, especially if they were not in English or very simple Hindi. Others, though, I found quite relatable e.g. Atul Khatri's bit about "Worli creep" vis-a-vis Dubai's "Jumeirah creep". There may really be a common big city experience that transcends countries. Khatri (bottom left), by the way, was great, and emcee Anirban Dasgupta (top left) was pretty good too, as was that 10-minute-set Marathi guy (bottom right) they had on after the break (his name escapes me, though).

To end the night on a sweet note, we went to Marine Drive and had a little dessert at Bachelorr's (sic), a Chowpatty institution famous for ice creams, shakes and fresh fruity concoctions. Competing with dozens of parked car occupants to place orders, we got ours in, with me enjoying a small but scrumptious serving of their special kaju draksh: a perfect creamy scoop shot through with raisins and nuts.

I rarely took the trains much when I was in Navi Mumbai, having relied on the buses that had to pass through Vashi on their way to various destinations across the bridge. This was, however, the best way to get back to the hotel at the time. Ticket purchase also seems to have been automated with vending machines, which I'm sure was a welcome development.

After breakfast with my parents the next day, I went back to my hotel room to do a little homework for the evening plan, then popping over to Bandra Kurla Complex to join another friend for a quick lunch at Cafe Infinito. Our main of "Big Bloody Burger" was alright, but what really made the meal were the courses before: arugula poached pear salad (top left) and chorizo honey ravioli (bottom left). A lovely local Sula Dindori Shiraz (top right) complemented the meal well, especially the chorizo.

Half an hour later, I reached the Kala Ghoda arts district in South Mumbai. It was a Monday, so the National Gallery of Modern Art was closed. Jehangir Art Gallery (bottom center) was still open, though, so I got a good look at some collections of works by Indian artists: the "hairy" mythology paintings of CD Mistry, the finely textured abstracts of Abdul Salam, and the excellent colors, lighting, and detail in outdoor scenes and palace/temple courtyards by Kailas R Jadhav. I also caught the last day of Aspi H Patel's Architecture Beyond Platitude architectural photography exhibition in the Terrace Gallery.

I then spent almost an hour at Delhi Art Gallery, and I don't think that was enough. Captivating early Bengal oil (sometimes also gold) paintings were the mainstay of the Indian Divine exhibition, consisting of modern art depictions of Hindu and Christian mythological scenes and icons. The application of modern art techniques to classical themes and motifs produced a beautiful result, including some abstract neo-tantric and expressionist pieces. A few iron and bronze sculptures also made appearances in this 5-storey space.

And finally, a stop at the renowned Kalaghoda Cafe. No jazz on a day like this, of course, but what a dinner. The crispy cafe special sandwich was perfect, with just a dash of their whole mustard sauce. Their dense-yet-fluffy dark chocolate cake was one of the best I have tasted. I loved how wholesome their ingredients and condiments were, in addition to their reasonable prices and great service.

On my way back, I took a walk through the bustling and heritage-rich path from KG to CST, enjoying the Diwali lighting and checking out the myriad items street vendors had on display.

And last, but not least, my Indian debut in stand-up, at the Big Mic comedy open mic held at the venue and art space known as The Hive. The place is tucked away in by-lane Khar, and the performance room, part of which was under a staircase, was packed -- it doesn't get much more underground than this.

The event began with a show by local improv artists (top right). It was mainly WLIIA-style short games, but I would love to see their scene work someday. Several stand-up comedians (bottom left) then took stage for (with one exception) 4-minute sets. Some of them had really great material, and I enjoyed the relaxed atmosphere that reminded me of open mics in the US. The emcee, Aakash Mehta (bottom right), was great entertainment in particular.

As for my set, I had by now accumulated quite a bit of India-specific material I could finally use, and I'm happy to say that it seemed to have been generally received enthusiastically; it was the first time for me to use any of it, though, so it was a bit shaky on delivery. I had a great time at the event overall, and it was a lovely end to my tiny Mumbai trip.