Ankhon Dekhi -- A good movie that (almost) slipped under the radar

I'd never have even heard about it if it were not for a review I glanced at in a magazine.
It's the kind of mag that gives low- mid-spectrum ratings to most movies, so the 4-star rating caught my eye and I read on. The more I read, the more it sounded like my kind of movie.


The movie is great without being fantastic. It made me chuckle, and at one outrageously funny moment that jumps at you, I laughed so hard I thought I'd wake my neighbors up (in Mumbai, they're a few feet away from you even if they're in their own homes).

It's a simple story, really. Girl falls in love with a boy. Family finds out about the affair and try to get the boy thrashed at the hands of a cop because of all the bad things they hear about the boy. Girl's Daddy (Bauji; Sanjay Mishra) realizes the boy ain't a bad egg, and it affects him deeply. So much so that it snaps a fundamental anchor -- of believing obvious 'truths' and heresy without questioning -- and he steps right into an existential crisis. He decides to believe nothing other than what he sees and hears himself. No heresy. No books. No newspapers. No conventional wisdom and knowledge.
Does Goes exist? Possible but he can't see him with his own eyes. So he stops performing pooja.

What follows is how the life of a lower middle class joint family is thrown into turmoil because of Bauji's crisis and ends rather dramatically. If you watch the movie, do send me a note to tell me what you thought happened...and why.


What works for the movie?

1) Sanjay Mishra. He really works well for the movie. You've seen him in a hundred movies but possibly don't know his name. He is the reluctant protagonist of the movie and he looks the part of Bauji so incredibly well. He doesn't really act. He 'becomes' Bauji.

2) Bauji is a character that works. He's mild, agreeable, malleable, eccentric, tender, obstinate, practical, philosophical...all in one go. Like most 'normal' people, really.

3) Enjoying a movie, for me, has a critical element -- ability to suspend disbelief. Possibly, I find it much harder than most desis to suspend disbelief. The beauty of this movie is that Rajat Kapoor uses a support cast that's not familiar at all and that makes it easier for my disbelief to go take a hike. Hence, there's no 'Ohh, Raghuvir Yadav's playing xxx...'. The cast are the characters. Period. And, yet, many of the characters have a unique presence, like Bauji's daughter, his son, the gambling den owner, the Pandit's son...they have facets, traits, and quirks. Bauji's wife (played by Seema Pahwa of Baboo didi from Ferrari ki Sawari fame) is stellar in her role.

4) The dialogues are quirky. The exchange about how two parallel lines don't really meet, but do meet in infinity will get a knowing chuckle from you.

5) THAT funny moment that totally cracked me up. It'll do that to you too.

6) The end really jumped at me. Totally WTF!

Gotta give movies like this a shot otherwise all we'll end up getting are Chennai Express, Ready, and Don N, and that would be tragic.
Go watch it, not as charity, but because splendid cinema is slipping under the radar for want of marketing dollars, and you're missing on quality movies.

Mildly Spiced champions the cause of good under-appreciated movies and so should you. So go.

3.5/5

Kala Ghoda Sunday Walk - The Pantry and La Folie Patisserie

I seldom haul my posterior down to SoBo. The commute has much to do with it. I hate (and I don't use the word loosely; indeed, I rarely use the word)...I hate commutes and being trapped in cars, especially in bumper to bumper traffic. And, then, there is the cloying Mumbai heat and humidity.

Net net -- I stick to places between Bandra and Lower Parel (LP because we're too cool and too lazy to type full names) as far as I can manage it. Travel beyond is generally for business purposes only.

That said, a lot of good food places are, unfortunately for me, located in SoBo. So when I realized that the weather was pleasant (and may not remain this way for too long) I decided to head down south for a dose of good food.

No company. Flying solo like Doc Halliday from Wyatt Earp. So I thought I'd hit up The Table and grab a few of the small plates.
Also, I'd read a fair bit of super positive press about La Folie and that was on my mind, though I don't really have a sweet tooth and don't care much for confections. But when someone in the know says something is exquisite, stellar, must-have, then I must have.


The Table did not work out because it was almost 2:45 pm by the time I got to Kala Ghoda and the kitchen there shuts at 3 pm (I know such things), and The Table isn't exactly a dosa diner where you drop in, eat, drop a chota Gandhi, and walk out. This place takes a lot of chota Gandhis, and often a few bada Gandhis too.

The Pantry. That was on my list.
So I walked past Rhythm House, and the blue synagogue (the restful cops in the sand-bag security box were happily having their Saturday fish-gravy-rice lunch; I mean...who would attack then, right?), KGC, Trishna, and got to The Pantry.
I think it's prettier on the outside than on the inside...this freshly painted white place, which has a very European feel to it (and we like that look-feel). It's mildly spiced.

Walking in, I realized that The Pantry may not be as small as a pantry, but it's not super-large either.
I was seated close to a wall with couples on either side of me. The man on my left was a large jovial man given to much innuendo (and provided much comic relief...may his tribe thrive and increase). The couple on my right was much quieter. Very Brit-stiff-upper-lip. Apparently, they didn't believe in talking while eating. They had an entirely meditative approach to their meal.

The menu comes up on one of those exam boards...you know the kind we took to school to write our tests? Ya, those. I ordered the lemongrass iced tea and agonized between the Croque Monsieur, Shepherd Pie, Pot Pie, and baked fish (betki) in a phyllo dough pastry (done like a Wellington). I let the man help me with the decision. He suggested Croque Monsieur, and that's what I ordered.

Killed time by flicking through the pictures on my cam and eavesdropping (and catching) my neighbor's naughty jokes. They were pretty good, but I'll try to keep this blog PG-13 compliant for some time.

The iced tea came in...in a glass that is a big brother version of a cutting chai glass. Lot of ice (it IS iced tea) and some tea to tag along. Generally, the tea was, well, mehh (with two hhs) just so you know I didn't care much for it.
I've had a TERRIBLE croque monsieur at Theobroma Bandra just 2 weeks back (and this monsieur almost croaked on it; bad joke) and I was already beginning to regret my choice. Idiot! You should have ordered the fish or the shepherd pie. Well.

5-10 mins in, the server started walking my way. From a distance, the dish looked promising. Mine? Not bad. Hmmm.

Imagine this (well, you're seeing the picture so not much to imagine)...I see this largish, thickish sandwich covered with beautiful melted gruyere, and the corners of the ham were peeking out from between the bread slices, and suddenly all was well in my world.

Both the tables on my sides gasped when the server put the plate down. Smelled good. Looked good. And what did I do? I exclaimed 'Lunch of Champions' and proceeded to take pictures to the point that our dutty-jokes-uncle noted that I had exceptional patience. He'd have jumped in by now and done unmentionable things with the sandwich. His words cannot be re-produced here verbatim or in gist.

So this sandwich monsieur has a healthy, tasty slice of ham (not thick, chewy), a pile of bechamel sauce on the inside, and a LOT of melted gruyere covering the sandwich. It is deeply, deeply satisfying. It reaches into the crevices of the soul and satisfies it too. The bread isn't soggy from the sauce, the cheese and sauce are not congealed or stringy. This makes for 'the angels are whistling sweet ditties of love inside my head' experience that is not jarred by stray distractions.

The portion is pretty right on. It's enough so I wouldn't mind sharing in a friend's pie, and then a bite or two of dessert after the sandwich. Epic stuff.

Dutty-jokes-uncle paid and left, as did the Brit desi couple to my right.

That's when I really looked around the place. The interiors are bright, warm, and pleasing to the eye. I can spend a rainy afternoon there. As can many Mac-bearing expats and Europeans/Americans visiting the city for business or pleasure for they seemed to be present at The Pantry in strength.

I'll be back with friends to try out their menu including their pulled pork sandwich, pot pie, and shepherd pie.


Half belly full and preparing for a sugary onslaught, I decided to walk around for a bit. I'd have slumped into a food induced coma without the walk. So off I went up to the Regal Circle, down Colaba Causeway, beyond Cusrow Baug, back up to Mondy's, to the Taj, and back along CS Road and the restaurant row to Kala Ghoda, and ready for La Folie.

--------------

La Folie is immediately by Trishna. It's a small spot with seating space for 8-10 patrons, a display area, and a kitchen in the back. Can't say they have a lot of place to expand within the current space, but I do hope they open another spot in Phoenix/LP. Not that I can afford such expensive sweet food very often, but it's nice to know uber stuff is close by.

Two couples were nibbling on the pastries when I got in. At ~250 bucks a pop, you do nibble on one of these delicacies. You don't deep-bite on it like it were an inexpensive mawa cake from Merwan's.

I got a nice table for myself and my precious bag with cam/lens. Bag placed, I recced the pretty display case. I may not have a sweet tooth, and pastries and desserts may not do for me what seafood and meats do, but I've been known to appreciate a well-made food that strays deep on the side of sweet.

The macaroons are twin flavored and I decided to start off with pistachio-apricot and orange-passion fruit (pretty certain I have the combinations right). The crust was light and crunchy and the filling creamy and beautifully flavored. Personally, I wouldn't mind a bigger punch of the fruit-element, which I thought a tad bit too mild, but they were good. Again, at 75 bucks  a pop (plus tax-tip), most people don't just throw a few back and walk out. They savor em.



Just around then, two guys walked in and we took off, unexpectedly, on a Vit. D deficiency topic. Something to do with them getting a table close to the glass door and direct sunlight.

Long story short, quick camaraderie developed between the said people and we exchanged introductions, guffaws, quick stories, and jokes. And before long, they were offering me spoonfuls of the said confections (entremet, for the French, merci beaucoup). Reve Praline, to be more specific.
It was delicious! Textures and flavors did a small ballet on my tongue.

And another one, the name of which eludes me at the time of writing this entry.






On the recommendation of my new Russian friend, I ordered the 100% Chocolat for myself.

You know how some things (and people) look really pretty from a distance, and you walk close, and you realize that they are, well, stunning. They make you gasp. La Folie petit fours are works of art. Each last one of them. They make you gawk. It's hard to break into that beautiful top and do...

                                                                                                                                                                     ...this to one of em. I loved it. It looks small but it's such strong chocolat, that by the end of the piece, you're done with desserts if you're eating it alone. 

L'Envie Violet.
I'd read reviews about the place and from the description, I knew it was the thing for me, and it really was just that. The colors and the beautifully mellow flavors of the black currant did it for my Mildly Spiced loving self.
It was my thing for the afternoon.
Look at it. Admire it. It looked that good and it tasted that good.

I'm no pastry chef to expound on how this is much better than what's available at some of the other joints in Mumbai or just how French butter and cream, Tahitian vanilla beans, and Spanish cherries make a noticeable difference. I don't know if it's more about the technique that Chef Patel has learned in Paris, but the effect is pretty dramatic.
This is good stuff.

I ended my evening on this beautiful note before heading home, a long trudge away.
Will I be back? Most likely with friends, yes.

The Lunchbox - You never know what each dabba holds

Too many 'poignant moment' spoiler alerts to count. Don't read this if you haven't watched the movie and want to 'really' watch it.

---

So The Lunchbox came out of nowhere, got fancy eyeballs, got press, then it got Johar and Kashyap, it got marketing pesos, it got bigger dreams (Best Foreign Film Oscar big), and then it deflated a bit when it didn't get nominated for the Oscars.

It went from being aww-Daaavid to being 'it's-overhyped'.
I swore I'd see it, and I did. Once. It's been some time since so what remains with me are moments and not a full 120 min brain DVR.


Let me put it this way -- It's art house cinema for hard masala addicts used to mainlining Chunnai Express and Dhoom 3 (may their tribe wither), but it's delectable fare for those who like their cinema mildly spiced.

Mildly Spiced believes it was one of the nicest movies to come out in 2013. It's neither pungent nor cloyingly sweet. The flavors come in waves, linger, and then recede. Indeed, they make space for a new development and set up a new emotion. The moments...stay.
Batra allows us a few seconds for the emotions to set in and keeps room for our interpretations too. That is pretty amazing for a rookie Director.


Let's not do a linear review of the story. Lot of people do that for a living. I don't want to snatch another man's livelihood.

What did I like? In random order (contrary to my consulting training of having some logical order to lists)...

1) Bharti Achrekar's acting - You know the lady who lives on the floor above (or a few floors above) Ila? The voice? Aunty -- Mrs. Deshpande? That's her, and she's a well known TV and movie actress. The wonderful thing was that I could her imagine her face and her expressions whenever she delivered a dialogue. That's powerful stuff, being able to create such vivid mental imagery.
It's wonderful how powerfully her character has been fleshed out without ever showing her. So much of her personality is conveyed by her actions (like the instance when she casually mentions that she was busy changing her husband's diaper) or the fact that she had installed a generator so that the fan never ever stops whirring.

2) The notes are a high point. Especially, the notes from Irrfan/Sajaan are abrupt, emotionally void, disconnected, and often unintentionally funny. Ila's messages, on the other hand, are poignant and communicate much for she appears to have many thoughts and emotions to share, but none to share them with.

3) Irrfan Khan has so much to give as an actor and he gives a good deal of himself to this role. He said the role weighed heavily on him for (in his words) it makes a man old to act an old man's character. Irrfan looks old. He looks tired...weary. He seems not to care, and yet he cares when this young man, Nawaz, comes by to inherit his role.
As a food lover, I believe that food can excite many strong emotions inside a person. To see him polish off every dabba, whether it be too salty or spicy, tells the story of a man who has no one to care for him and cook for him with love, and has come to terms with a mediocre dabba as his life's default.
The food and Ila's messages arouse a younger man inside Saajan, and Saajan appears to perk up in spirit if not in body.
These are all changes that Irrfan conveys expertly.

4) Nawaz's role is almost an unnecessary role. One would argue that it can be completely done away with, but he brings a playful vitality, and an uncommon poignancy to Shaikh's character. I feel certain that Shaikh's character was a much smaller role in the original script. Nawaz's acting expanded the scope to do more as the shooting moved on.

5) Nimrit Kaur's is an unexpectedly good performance. She could have so easily brought down a good movie. A few lousy scenes from her and the spell of the movie would be broken. But she conveys all that Ila is -- lonely, vulnerable, seeking companionship and love, strong, giving. She can look ordinary as the woman sitting to start the laundry, and she can look wonderfully radiant when she is going to meet the man that she thinks she is falling in love with.

6) Without saying much about technique, for I am not a technical man in this area, Batra has done a stellar job with writing and directing this story. He has given his actors space to do their thing, and he has felt comfortable leaving pauses and open ends in the story. That is creditable for the natural instinct  is to close loops and open ends.
He also deserves kudos for developing Mrs. Deshpande's character.


For these things and more (that I haven't mentioned), Lunchbox is definitely a Mildly Spiced pick. And it helped that Ila's food looked finger-lickin goood!

Here's to more food-themed movies with a heart for the dabba always holds something special for the aching empty belly.

Sunday Brunch at San-Qi

Those that know me, know that I love my sushi and I love seafood, especially in its more minimally cooked forms. Or uncooked, as the case may be.

I'd heard a lot about the San-Qi Sunday (Essence) brunch. Two floors of pan-Asian food bad-ass-ness. Then there was the fast video on Youtube about the spread, and I saw glass containers filled with crabs, lobsters, tiger prawns, and oysters. There was Peking duck and Galauti kababs. Ready sushi - rolls, nigri, and sashimi. Tall columns of dim sum baskets. All promised a food orgy.


I figured my brain would melt and my tongue would experience flaccid paralysis. Long story short - food porn.
But the price was hefty, and after a year in a weight loss program, my appetite had shrunk. At 3200 pesos (including tax and tip), it may not be a king's ransom, but it's certainly a poor family's food budget for a month. 'Would I do justice to the spread?' had me shrinking back a few times. And then bad throats and random fevers over weekends held me back. Bad ju-ju.

Finally, last week, I made it to San-Qi with my brother-from-another-mother A, missus (we'll call her S), and their lil soup dumpling, Ady. Ady is six, a charmer, and a man of the world. He knows his world food. He knows which side of the toast is buttered and he knows how he likes his pancakes.


Onwards to San-Qi then. The overall space is large and open. The glass facade enables a bright feel with sunlight streaming in. The gazillion bottles for decoration is beginning to feel a bit overdone in 5-star restaurants. I so wish San-Qi was located on a higher floor! Knowing the views that Aer offers, a 33rd floor San-Qi is a very appealing idea.
We dithered between a proper table on the ground level and a sofa in an isolated corner. Ady chose the later. Good choice. Great location. We had a large corner sofa setup for just us 3.5 people and easy access to the staircase to go up to the higher floor.

Many happy faces were clearly there for the champagne portion of the brunch. People were tossing back champagne like it was beer. Veuve Clicquot, I saw.  Not too shabby for a desi place!
We chose the non-alcoholic version (I don't do alcohol when the sun is up) and asked for juice -- watermelon and orange. Watermelon was a meh choice. It soon separated into layers - sludge and water.

The orange juice was a different story. It was fresh, cold, frothy, and did handstands with the citrus flavors. I had 3 glasses through the meal, and a chilled half glass to end the meal.
The taste was very different from the standard Nagpuri mosambi/santra juice. Evidently, San-Qi used imported oranges for the juice. 'Imported' and (hence) expensive matters little. It did matter that the juice tasted stellar.

Initially, A and I recced the counters. Chinese, Indian, and desserts on the ground level. Thai and Japanese on the first floor.
I confess I was a bit torn when I was told that the big urns of cooked seafood from that Youtube video had long been discontinued and that I wouldn't be eating lobster, crab, and fresh shucked oysters that day, but the man-about-town rolls with the punches.

Over the course of the next two to three hours, we hit up pretty much all of the counters save the Indian counter though I did get the tandoori prawns there as an obligatory salute. Were they five star grade? Not really. I think my bai can replicate them and I can do better.

Indian counter -- Total shut-out.

Chinese counter was a source of new experiences and some a-ha moments.

Peking duck with hoisin and plum sauce

I'm not generally inclined to go for duck, but I've heard of the 'Peking duck' ever since I was yew-small and I felt that I had to be responsible and try it, and it was good enough to order twice...or more. For the two-note Indian meat palate, it's not quite chicken and definitely not mutton. It's definitely more bird than bleh-mmehhh, and it went really well with the hoisin and plum sauces. Soft but not quite melt-in-the-mouth soft. The skin had a beautiful crunch to it.



I side-stepped the stir fry counter (though S said the stir-fry veggies were stellar and oh-so-fresh as if they had come in from farm to San-Qi to her plate in an hour flat) to hit the dim sums. The vegetarian ones with mushrooms and assorted veggies appealed to the eye but were mehh to my tongue.

The prawn and the desi sea bass ones, au contraire, were pretty darned good, and deserved repeats.
The sea bass dim sum (in green) was especially good and was quite the winner in the dim sum round.

Sea bass siu mai

Prawn wantons

The chatter was lively at the start of the meal, but it began to fall away as the food piled in from different quarters. Ady was gorging on some spinach noodles, A had ordered two types of lamb (mehh), S had got some grilled chicken, salad, and soup. We trialed, souped, and nibbled on.


The Thai counter had its hits and misses. The cold salads didn't excite me (though vegetarians would love the papaya salad) very much but the green curry was rather fetching, and the tom yum soup was one of the better ones of its kind. Based on spoonful tasters, of course...

Strangely, a cold cuts and cheese platter was located at the Thai counter. Incongruent and ordinary. The cheese were the standard variety -- emmental, edam, cheddar. The cold cuts were standard too -- mortadella, turkey. Nothing special and different becoming of the Four Seasons brand. Parma ham and melon would be more the Four Seasons class.

Papaya salad

The Japanese counter gave me the most joy. They had salmon, tuna, prawn and squid at the sushi counter, and tiger prawns, sea bass, tenderloin at the teppanyaki counter.

The squid was mehh but the salmon and tuna were pretty good. Not the best I've ever had, but good. Make-me-happy-now good. Certainly, head-to-head competition to the sushi at Fifty-five East at the Grand Hyatt.

I had a lot of sushi. A lot. And mostly sashimi. Just pure cuts of fresh fish. Nothing to dilute or adulterate that joy. No rice. No nori. Or needless vegetables. Just good fish.

Gotta say though, the plastic pipettes filled with soy were a pain in the Royal Behind. I felt like a soy addict picking up 3-4 pipettes for every round of sushi. San-Qi, please note.
The tempura shrimp rolls were very so-so. The tuna was the standout. Delightfully fresh.

Squid, salmon, tuna nigri, shrimp tempura rolls, and tuna sashimi

Pipettes reminded me of school labs

Tiger prawns and sea bass teppanyaki counter

The snapper (ceviche?) in the shot glass was a disappointment as was the sea bass from the teppanyaki counter. For a man who loves mildly spiced, it was genuinely tasteless. Like eating thermocol.

Across the board, San-Qi did a reasonably good job with all prawn dishes -- be they in the dim sum, or simple stir fried starters or the best lot was the tiger prawns at the teppanyaki counter.

The dessert room was like drowning in an ocean. So much food to eat but so little to really eat. A and S reached desserts before me and whispered that they were below par for FS quality. From desi to Western, the desserts were pleasing to the eye but mehhh to the tongue. I ate one macaroon and then I drank a small glass of orange juice to kill the strong taste of melted butter.





In compendium, I enjoyed my time at San-Qi, but it had to do more with the good time I had with friends, and watching Ady fuss over his food, and even the pleasure of ogling at the wide variety of foods and PYTs. But, unfortunately, none of the food numbed my senses into submission. Nothing made me gasp, sigh, and want to return with a vengeance. None of the plates made me feel that I'd be willing to pay for them a la carte.
I need add, though, that A and S waxed eloquent about the food. About the quality of the produce and meat. About cooking technique. About the overall experience.

San-Qi needs to bring back it's cooked crabs, lobsters, oysters, and tiger prawns in glass containers, and I will come back in a heartbeat.