Skip to main content

Transit tales - 3

A small observation.

On multiple occasions, I've looked nay stared at what passes for vegetarian food during flights. There's some dubious looking salad consisting chiefly of lettuce leaves. There's the coffee cream. There's the cold noodles. And there's the jello. I will look at the said menu, look at the stewardess who will look back at me challengingly and ask me what I'd like to drink. Ahem...

So, while I'm gloomily masticating on a combination of jello & coffee cream, the matriarch sitting a few seats to the left is ploughing her way through the 'asian' veg menu. From what I've seen in the past, this sacrifices taste for recognizability i.e. you can swear to the fact that there is a roti, some rice and chole on your plate, but a bite of any of them will make you pause, chew slowly and thoughtfully and eventually swallow.

But it sure beats eating the jello + coffee cream, let me tell you.

So, this time I was determined. Come what may, I was going to at least have them serve me the asian veg food and specified so very emphatically when booking my flights. And believe you me, I got it.

I got the rice.
I got the roti.

& I got potatoes and rajma with a vengeance. On every flight.

Why, I don't know. And, like a certain Mr. Butler I don't give a flying f***.

However, there was one pleasant surprise waiting for me on the flight from HK to Phnom Penh. The potatoes were there but it was vada. Yes, yes one half of the vada-paav. And the square white lump next to it turned out to be upma.

The smallest things in the strangest places can make one smile.

Song for the moment: Maximum Consumption - The Kinks

Comments

Gaurav said…
hey i din't know that vada pav is so famous.. Did you like it?
Anonymous said…
Yes boss... it actually tasted nice. But, I doubt it's presence had anything to do with fame. The sizable Indian population in HK may be the answer.

Popular posts from this blog

Let them talk

There is a school of thought that would quite likely be scandalised by the idea of intellectual discussions being held in a pub / bar. Impropriety and what have you. Folks like us (you know who you are) would counter with the notion that our intellectual pursuits occur only in pubs. That's when the cranial creases are watered... doused actually, & whatever is left of our neurons are firing on all cylinders, ablaze thanks to the tipple of choice. Mind you, I'm not advocating that this is the best way. It's just our way. Or my way, if any reader resents the liberty I've taken of assuming anything. Not to keep tottering around the proverbial mulberry bush (why mulberry, I ask), the latest discussion touched on the dichotomy(?) of loving your work. That is, working the week for the sake of the cheque & engaging in your passion during the weekend OR striving to make your passion, your talent or a synonym of your choice the porker from which your bacon is carved. Ri

Many the miles

Some time ago, I decided to cut down on the whining that seems to be a major theme on this blog. After having written a couple of short story posts and one interesting challenge, I found that more commentary on life, its machinations and assorted tomfoolery just did not interest me. For the moment, at least. That also thankfully means that I can't talk about the Indian cricket team's test saga. Anyway, in recent weeks, a new trend has taken root in that fragment of the 'gang' that lives in Pune. Instead of meeting up and hitting the tipple every now and then, we meet and they discuss trekking to various forts in and around Pune. Notice how I'm not in these councils-of-war. Although I've played sports in school and college, I've never been a fan of physical toil. All these talks conjure up are images of waking up at some ungodly hour before sunrise, scooting to some random hill / fort and huffing, puffing, slipping & scrabbling around in near darkness w

The baying of the hounds

Dear reader, The past few months have been punctuated by sound and fury on account of the renovations around the house. The incessant noise, rubble and dust have often led to frayed tempers and the standard indignant inquiries about the point of this whole exercise. But there's a long way to go, so we must persevere... with gritted teeth. Speaking of dust, the Lenovo laptop running Manjaro OS has been quietly gathering sackfuls of the stuff. Unfortunately (but understandably), my Macbook has become the default instrument of distraction, with the Lenovo coming into play whenever I miss USB ports. All sarcasm aside, the Mac is convenient to use and the apps 'just' work. I've praised the Linux ecosystem for years on this blog, so there's no question of indicting them now. But hear me out. I use a VPN service. In this gilded age of freedom and tolerance, I think everyone should opt for a reliable, paid service. It does not have to matter that the things you do on the in