Thursday, 27 January 2011

"All Curried Out"

We have to leave India.  We really do.  We've only two and a half weeks left in this South-East Asian paradise before we board the airline with a beer for a name (good ol' Kingfisher) and head back westward toward dreary skies (and an even drearier economy).  Amusingly, we shall be departing on Valentine's Day.  Sipping lukewarm beer, eating sodium rich nuts and watching banal Hollywood inflight films, is how the husband and I shall spend our umpteenth V-Day together.

I suppose I would be more gutted about leaving if it weren't for one small fact:  I have TOTALLY gone off Indian food.  If I never see another Indian curry it will be too soon (of course feel free to remind me of this in say six months time when I'm spotted lurking outside the Spice Palace on Brick Lane, hankering after a poppadom or four).

Ironically, in years past when we have come to for a two week getaway, it would be fair to say that a great proportion of our time has been spent gorging ourselves on the delicious food, contemplating our next meal, and generally stuffing ourselves to the point where we lie there afterwards, groaning on the bed (and I don't mean in a sexy way),  gently rubbing our distended bellies and swearing we won't order so much next time.  But we do...and so the cycle continues...such that we end up returning back from holiday as slightly browner, rounder manifestations of our formal selves.

However after months of eating at the same dozen or so restaurants, having sampled all the divine fish tikka, tarkha dal, channa masala, raita, roti, vegetable papad, malai kofta, kadai veg, etc WITHIN AN INCH OF OUR stomach - and taste buds - are in a full-scale revolt.

I have finally reached my limit, and have therefore been forced, for the past few weeks or so, to subsist within the borders of a terribly confined culinary selection.  In other words, I've been mainly subsisting on fruit, breakfast cereal and peanut butter toast.  My body is crying out for BLAND food, for Western food (as inferior as it could be argued it is) because frankly I've had about as much ghee (butter), creamy curry and savoury naan breads as I can take.

You know what I'm most looking forward to?  A Mark & Spencer's Cheese and Celery sandwich, devoured with a bag of salt n' vinegar crisps.  Yep.  If I were on death row right now that is what my last meal request would be.

(Of course as I say this I am wondering why I'm advertising to the world at large, my favourite sandwich...not only do I sound like a daft cow but I risk the likelihood that this delicious partnering of moist bread, creamy cheese and tart celery will become even harder to come by on the shelves if more people are to discover just how yummy it is.  As it is I have had many a disappointing foray into good ol' M&S only to find that particular shelf laid bare and have had to resort to a disappointing Ploughman's to ease the hunger.  But I digress....)

The point is, that I think I am finally ready to leave.  Seriously.  When I am daydreaming about what is essentially a bloody sandwich, and am ready to trade sun, seas and spectacular sunsets for said says it all really doesn't it?

1 comment:

  1. as someone who has lived abroad now for 7 years (12 in total) ....... believe me I know how dreams come true in M&S foodhall. I was delighted to see on my last visit that they now have M&S motorway stops ......... bliss .... you can even get cream cheese and celery sandwiches when you are lost in middle England alone with two naughty boys


Let me know what you think!