Category Archives: Food

Please don’t challenge me when I’m out for a meal. Please

By Purva Grover

You’re five or six, it’s hard to recall. You are confronted with a challenge: to finish the glass of milk before your mother finishes counting to 10. She doesn’t want you to gulp down the milk and choke yourself so she counts slowly and in halves (four, four-and-a-half…), allowing you enough time to finish the challenge and emerge victorious. A kind of food challenge I could relate to and one that perhaps I’d imitate with my nieces. I’d close my eyes and count to 10, of course cheating in between to decide how fast or slow I wish to count. In the end, we’ll both win.

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French chef in Bahrain plates like a famous American artist

By Karen Ann Monsy

With his shock of salt and pepper hair, Yann Bernard Lejard is unmistakable in a crowd. But then, he’s usually the one surrounded by a crowd in fine dining settings. The French executive chef at The Ritz-Carlton, Bahrain, is best known for being something of a Pollock of the restaurant world. Like the famed abstract expressionist painter, Yann too is lauded for his plating techniques that involve pouring or splashing ‘sauces’ in a style most reminiscent of Pollock’s own. Regularly invited abroad to demonstrate his skills, Yann is happy to plate his dishes with a heaping side of drama that often involves jumping, tossing and blowing techniques that make SaltBae look rather tame. It’s all about bringing high art to the table, he says — and it’s enough to make everyone whip out their phones for the show, every single time. Excerpts from an interview:

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I want to know, who really eats the exotic stuff on the menu?

By Bikram Vohra

Every now and then people decide to go ‘exotic’ and enjoy something different for dinner. For most of us it is an adventure without any adventure in it. If we go for Thai we invariably order red curry, green curry or Khao Pad, which is just fried rice. Nobody orders Larb Leuat Neua (Raw Beef with Uncooked Blood) Mok Huak (Developing Tadpoles) or Larb Mote Daeng (Red Ants Eggs).

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Finger lickin’ good? For God’s sake, free up my fingers

By Keith Pereña

Storytime. Earlier this week, a good friend of mine sent me a link which took me to a strange story in the online mag Timeout Tokyo. It was headlined “KFC Japan creates three-finger gloves to keep your hands clean.” No sooner had I got a glimpse of the headline that I shot her a message. “Only three fingers? That’s finger racism!” I replied, following it up with a chicken emoji. Only after savouring the report did I begin to realise how outrageous the idea was.

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How about breakfast at noon, or maybe at midnight?

By Sushmita Bose

The word breakfast — the portmanteau of “breaking the fast” — has me tied up in knots. I’m not a breakfast person, it’s my least favourite meal of the day, and whenever someone tells me, “Let’s meet for breakfast”, my heart sinks a little bit, because, well, it’s bound to be a meeting where the way to my heart will definitely not be through my stomach.

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