Saturday, June 8, 2013

Lemon Grass, Bandra West

I dread eating out over the weekend these days. Don't get me wrong. I am not suffering from any bowel or digestion problems. I am simply tired of eating the kind of food that is dished out at the food courts of the malls - Indian, Chinese, Pizza or McDonald's. If these are the only options, I am better off eating at home.

So, in search of something different to eat, I went to Lemon Grass in Bandra West (at Turner Pali Road Junction). It is not a big place but the decor is decidedly different than the usual. Recently, in an Outlook Money article (yes, they do have articles that don't deal with vitamin M!), I had read that using old or weather-beaten furniture is the in-thing and had found the concept fascinating. The seating arrangement at Lemon grass came as a pleasant surprise - given that it consists of green chairs, benches and garden style tables (not old!). This, coupled with the heart-shaped cluster lights, gives the eatery a quaint and cozy look.



I was told that I must not leave without trying Devil's chicken. I was also told that I will not find that item on the menu. When the waiter came to take our order, I hesitantly asked him about the dish. He happily nodded. We also ordered chicken Phad Thai noodles (just to be safe, I guess!) and Apple Lemonades.

Though I had expected the Apple Lemonade to have a sharp taste, it made me wince when I took a sip. Of course, it goes without saying that when the outside temperature is enough to put the Sahara to shame, lemonade is nothing short of a Godsend, sharp taste or not. Devil's chicken lived up to its name because it was very tasty, in fact sinfully so. I wondered, perhaps for the 1000th time, just how in the world do these chefs manage to make the sauce cling so perfectly to the meat pieces.


The Phad Thai disappointed me a bit - perhaps because it was authetic and not tweaked for the Indian palette. I am one of those who get turned off when cooked meat gives a kind of meaty smell. That's what happened when the waiter served us the dish. Plus the noodles were somewhat oily or slippery. Otherwise, there was nothing wrong with the taste. I must confess though that I have eaten better chicken Phad Thai noodles.



As far as the wallet goes, the lemonade was a bit on the pricey side. But the rest of the two dishes were very reasonably priced. So, I will be going back there one of these days to sample some Malaysian and Sri Lankan dishes that are on offer. If you are planning the same, then I have to tell you something - Devil's Chicken appears as 'Bangkok Crispy Chicken' on the menu :-)

Icing On A Landour Cake

I was surprised to see Mint on the table. The newspaper delivery man knows that the delivery is for Monday-Friday only. But he has done it before - dropped the paper at my place on Saturdays. And I must admit that it is refreshing to read the paper on a Saturday once in a while. It has a collection of articles - not as many as a Marathi newspaper has in its weekend supplement. But enough to take your mind off the sorry state the economy, global in general and Indian in particular, is.

Just as I was scanning them, a portrait of a lady dressed in what can be described as the 20s-30s style caught my attention. I began reading the article. It talked about a cookbook called Icing On The Landour Cake. Looks like it is a compilation of the recipes that were in vogue in the houses of the people who had come down to Landour (in the state of Uttarakhand now) from UK, US and New Zealand during that time - along with some photos from that era. The article does mention that some of the recipes are not usable because they are meant for cold climate as well as high altitudes. The measurements are also outdated in this century. But I agree that it will be a good addition to a set of kitchen books as a Collector's item.

I am glad the delivery man dropped the newspaper copy at my place today :-)

One morning at a Public Sector Bank Branch

I knew I should not have come to the bank the moment I set foot in the premises. The scene that greeted me is typical of any public sector Indian bank - long queues of people at every counter, harassed employees barking responses and a confused looking person or two looking at the form in hand. But I had no choice, I had to be there. I have embarked on a spring cleaning of my financial life - at the beginning of monsoon. And closing this old once-in-a-blue-moon-used account before I lost my nerve was at the top of the TODO list.

I took a deep breath and thrust the passbook (I still can't believe I had this relic!) as well as chequebook under the nose of the lady sitting at the nearest counter. The deserted look at the counter should have warned me that the counter is perhaps manned by the bank's resident dragon-lady, who is ever ready to bite head off a hapless customer who has dared to stray in her path. That day, I could have been that customer. The lady took one look at the documents and barked at me 'You will have to give it in writing and submit at that counter'.

'Can I have a blank sheet of paper?' I said, fortified by morning's breakfast of muesli that was laden with fruits and nuts.

'There's a printer there. Take a sheet from there' the lady hissed again.

Afraid that a big scalding bubble of fire would be breathed out with the next bark I hurried in the general direction that she was so kind to point. The printer was nowhere to be seen. 'Forget it, leave while you can' said a small voice somewhere inside my head. I refused to listen to it.

'Excuse me. I need to close my account and need a blank sheet of paper to write a letter.' I said to the only person inhibiting the area. The lady looked around her and then handed a long sheet to me. I was about to tell her that it was perhaps longer than what was needed but decided against it.

Then I sat down to dutifully write the letter - beginning with my address, date and mobile number at the top right corner followed by 'Subject:' and 'Dear Sir/Madam' - center aligned :-) I told whosoever would have the privilege of reading this letter that I wish to close the account and would be surrendering the passbook and chequebook. I thanked in advance and finished off the missive by signing at the bottom right corner below my name. I thought of the professor who taught us Communication Skills in the 1st semester at VJTI and gave her a million thanks!

I trouped to the counter that the dragon-lady had pointed at. This one was manned (can I say womanned here?) by a very efficient lady. She was answering patiently every query thrown at her by various people in the ever-increasing queue at the counter and at the same time fielding requests by her colleagues to sign sundry documents. I waited patiently for my turn as the senior citizen in front of me was given a sheaf of documents to sign.

My turn came soon enough and I handed the documents to her. I could hear my heart thumping loudly in my ribcage as she scanned them. 'You have not done KYC' she handed down the verdict and I almost died of cardiac arrest. I suspect I must have knocked at the gate of the bright tunnel that souls go through after they depart from the body as I had visions of filling up a 2 paged form. I choked back an angry 'why wasn't I told about this when I came to update the passbook last year?'.

'Just submit your PAN and passport copy' That's it? No form? I felt like doing a little jig right there.

During the 15 minute trek to and from home I kept on visualizing the closure of my bank account without any further hassles. Just to be sure, I was carrying back 2 more proofs plus the originals. There was no way I was getting out of the branch that day without the pay order from my closed account.

There was just one person when I arrived at the same counter half an hour later. But the moment I joined the queue 2 more people came and joined behind me. I dread this situation and for good reason. The guy at my back was way into my personal space. I turned back and gave him a withering look. But he was unfazed. When he tried to get past me, I sternly said 'There is a queue here'. He nodded and took a step back, only to step closer again in a second or two. I sighed and counted to 10. Later it turned out that the guy at my back was with the guy in the front. I didn't let that make me feel stupid. My whole energy was concentrated on the documents in my hand.

The two people moved away from the counter and the old lady sitting in front of the counter piped up 'I need to get these forms signed'. 'In a minute Madam, let me see to the business of these people who have come before you' the counter lady said politely. I noticed that her name was Meena. I handed her the documents and held my breath as she went through them.

'Okay, take a seat there. I will get the pay order ready' she said and I heaved a sigh of relief.

Running around for documents was an easier part, I discovered as I sat there cooling my hees. I heard the dragon lady and another one sitting next to her discussing my case. Another deep breath later I approached the dragon. 'Are you handling the processing of my pay order?' I asked mustering every ounce of courage that I possessed.

She gave me a withering look 'Yes, but it has to pass through next 2 counters. So it will take 15 or 20 more minutes' she shouted. I shook my head and returned to my seat cursing for not bringing the book that I was currently reading. Now I didn't have any option but to look around and try to amuse myself.

It's funny but I don't remember doing that in a long time. I spend the commuting time reading newspaper or a book. I shop at the grocery store when there is not much crowd and other financial transactions are handled at an ATM machine. But here I was, sitting at a branch that was overflowing with people. So I just sat back, relaxed and decided to enjoy the ride.

Soon my attention was drawn to a group of people - a woman in her sixties and her two sons, from the looks of it. The sons had come down to help their mom with some transactions but one of them was complaining that it was getting difficult to come down every time. The mom nodded and asked him not to come next time whereupon he remarked that he didn't want the bank employees to harass her because that's what they do when they see a senior citizen. They left the premises still discussing the matter. As I watched them leave, a guy, probably in his thirties, came in panting and plonked himself in the chair. He spent the next 5 minutes wiping perspiration off his forehead and fanning himself. It must be hotter outside than was when I came in. For once, I was glad to be sitting in the air-conditioned room.

In general, the older generation seemed calmer as they went about their business - either because they are used to dealing with public sector banks or they have ample time at their disposal. The few people who represented younger generation, probably more at home with phone/net banking and ATMs looked bored and impatient. I watched as the line in front of the machine that updated passbook by reading the barcode on it lengthened by the minute. Banks should make an exception and keep facility of manually updating it operational for senior citizens, I thought. It is criminal to make them wait in line for so long - especially when the machine is prone to making mistakes every now and then.

15 minutes turned to 20 and my own level of impatience grew. Not entirely sure that I won't pay back in kind if the dragon barked in response to my query, I approached the lady sitting next to her and asked how long it will take before the pay order was ready. They both replied that it will take another 5 minutes. I ignored the dragon and thanked the other lady before returning to my seat. At this rate, I would soon be reaching the state of Nirvana without taking any special efforts. Anyone who is thinking of enrolling for an Anger Management course should instead open and operate an account in an Indian public sector bank. It will be decidedly cheaper and 100 times more effective!

Precisely 10 minutes later, I was called to collect the pay order and almost ran all the way to the counter. The lady, Meena, gave it to me with the instruction that I could get my passbook updated and a plastic strip pasted on the pay order at the last counter. I went to the counter where a gentleman directed me to yet another counter for that plastic strip. When I returned back to him, he was in the process of putting a blank white strip on it. '

Will I have to get it updated at that machine?' I asked with a lot of trepidation.
'Yes Madam'.
'Can you just show me the last few transactions? I have closed the account anyways'.
'Oh, then I will update it right here for you. You don't need the bar code then'

I thanked all the 33 Crore Gods that Hinduism boasts of.

I guess I should frame the pay order that I was able to secure after such a Herculean effort. But since the amount is substantial I will resist the temptation and.....make a trip to another public sector bank to deposit it next week. I am a veteran now :-)