Lunch with the First Family

The dice was loaded, Barak Obama was in town, it was the November the 7^th, the whole city was in a security blanket. The rumours were, the American President was travelling, with an entourage of 5000 persons. The last time, the American President visited, the rumour is that the canine force , that is elite Dog squad (in the US of A everything is glamorised),was put up at one of the better hotels.

This time over, the year circa 2010, everyone was preparing for the Obama platter, The Hyderbad House banquets, banquets at the Rashtrapati Bhawan. The ceremonial guard by the PBG (President Body Guard). The legends of the presidential car called The Beast. Pages and pages of newsprint devoted to the Food ,Drink, Travel, Car and Clothes of the First Couple, acres of footage on News and Lifestyle shows devoted to the first couple.

Amidst, all this chaos, the humble family of self, dearest wife Praveen and young Detective An, decided to have lunch at San Gimignano, a quaint, traditional Italian restaurant at The Imperial.To match the royal occasion it was our 18^th wedding anniversary. We entered it was noon, a crisp winter afternoon, the captain at the restaurant, one who started as a trainee and now runs the restaurant, offered us to be seated outside, outdoors (Alfresco). We, i.e dearest wife Praveen and I are suckers for Alfresco dining usually. However, today we politely refused.

We enter we are seated, I order a Peroni beer, dearest wife Praveen orders a chardonnay, a nice one (the name, it is lost in folds of my cranium), besides I have lost the bills , so cannot even refer to them. The drinks arrive, so do breads. We settle down.

Lo behold ! Hail Mary ! dearest wife discreetly says, just behind you, Ms Sonia Gandhi and Rahul Gandhi. Very slowly, we turn and discreetly observe the mother and son enjoying their lunch. Only once the visiting chef from Italy comes to click his heels to Madam and Baba. We let them be and indulge into our own reverie, a Caesar salad (came with a poached egg loaded with parmesan cheese, we had loads of bread with a red paste , made of red chillies/garlic/olive oil..... delicious (stayed away from the olive oil and balsamic vinegar we often have). We were told its a Tuscany recipe. Wife says, Rahul Gandhi is going on staring at you, perhaps he was trying to draw attention. Why is this regular family not making any signs of recognition, let alone reverence.

The next course arrives it’s a ravioli with spinach and exotic cheese cooked with truffles and then we get on to a spicy Italian sausage pizza. All the food is very nice, very good quality ingredients cooked to perfection. We look around the, sketches and pictures of the town San Gimiagno, the restaurant is named after. Here comes the Tiramasu, exotic 9with a hint of Alcohol). A Japanese enters the restaurant both smartly turned out and with a baby, they are again guided out, they resort to sitting indoors like us and unknowingly give company to Mrs Gandhi dressed in a salwar kameez and Rahul Gandhi wearing . errr do not remember. Enters Swati Piramal the head Assocham, wife of Ajay Piramal and publisher of a Business management magazine that prints 5000 copies. She was so poorly dressed. She asks Madam for a picture and flashes out a camera and the distinguished gent (captain of the restaurant) is summoned to click the photo. A Kodak moment for Mrs Piramal and Mrs Gandhi unwillingly agrees for a photo for the scrapbook. We cluck our tongues in despair.

The Gandhis are ready to leave, thy look at us in admiration, we let them be all through their lunch and after. Swati did not, the Japanese did not know and care. We knew who she is and still kept our excitement to ourselves including little detective An. They left very discreetly like they are regulars without any hullabaloo and security, pretty much like commoners.

And all this happened when the city and the country was trying to please the First couple of USA.

The service at San Gimignano was top class, attentive and unobtrusive. Nice.

If you have had a brush with the Royalty ! Ahem ! Polity ! do write in.

So long and happy New Year

Cavalry Dinner : A Promise of Short Skirts et al

I have written on the food in the Army earlier. I have to write about the second highpoint of every Armored Corps officer/ Cavalry officer in India. The first of course is Nagar, like every artist thinks of Paris, the same reverence is accorded to Nagar (Ahmednagar) in the Armored Corps in India.

As a Young officer, you are told about Nagar and its nightlife and its promiscuous ladies. You almost feel like a Jihadi who is promised Jannat, Hoors (Damsels) and sweet wines (almost all things otherwise forbidden in Islam) at becoming a martyr. I have often wondered, prompted, by brother dear Sanjiv, how can one half of a population be promised to the other half (men being promised promiscuous women) in heaven on becoming a martyr.

In peace loving India, there are a few opportunities of martyrdom hence you are promised Jannat, in Nagar anyways, with hoors, sweet wine (unlimited wine , smarter guys hitting on Officers daughters and the lesser mortals acquainting women in white uniforms and other commercial interactions). Its almost like pent up escapism , the late nights, drives to Poona, eating at Subhash Dhaba, Drinking at all the Whisky bars (various Officers Mess and Clubs and Institutes in town). Whoosh Heady feeling.




The Other big promise is at the other Mecca The Cavalry Week, culminates with the Cavalry Dinner also called the Cav Dinner. The promise is, officially being allowed to go to Delhi attend the Cav Dinner while you are in the Army. If one is from Delhi even better, get to take a lady friend and expose her to the glamour of the Army life especially as a tank man. Usually held at The Oberoi in the yesteryears, has tried The Imperial, The Shangri La and the deepest dregs of Hotels The Crowne Plaza at Friends Colony. Hope it makes TheImperial its home it goes with its regal image. With Cavaliers and Lancemen in the Lobby, the bar by Sea grams. The old generals, the gracious Turkish Mrs Zorawar Singh. The stylish eyepatch on a gent almost like Clark Gable in a Tuxedo.

Amidst all this, the promise of the shortest skirts on this side of the Yamuna. Well that’s what it used to be. Even the the head of the most powerful nation takes a look at the skirted being, let alone lesser mortals like the Army officers. Men in Cross belts and silver with tights in blue patrols, with a lots of silver and brass and boots with spurs and ladies in a chit of chiffon Whooo !



Hang on this a a food blog so what did we eat, Dearest wife Praveen and I arrived early ate the celery and leek tarts, followed by a chilly chicken and a grilled fish, we drank Grovers wine got the best and kickass service by the Senior Captain himself (from the Hotel and not the Indian Army). I switched to some serious drinking and lost count of time and the drinks to really enumerate a treatise on the food. It was nice, it always is like a good Army Buffet it has fish , Chicken and Mutton. Lots of Hot Food like the last man last bullet, hot food for the last man standing in this case, literally. The Imperial does a stupendous job for the price that the Army pays them. I think they do it because of the Photo opportunity the event brings to all Gora guests at the hotel and the British Raj glamour it brings with it at the appropriate setting of The Imperial.

All this on a very pleasant November evening in the Lawns Of The Imperial with nothing less than the Velvet Fog the Armored Corps band in attendance. Really takes you to another time and place to a simpler life in simpler times all for Rs 2000/- for a couple. Its risen from a Rs 1000/- years ago. Very very affordable, Definitely a part of a Guide to Eating out for a salesman, provided the salesman has been an Officer in the Cavalry like the author.


Well about the short skirts they were in short supply or the migraton of the Siberian Crane is late or is not going to happen.
Cheers and Bash on Regardless !