Valley Of Plenty: The French Laundry

Picture this. A perfect, California blue sky. A bright, shining sun. Mountains surrounding a valley like a frame with not a tall building in sight. And yes, grapes, vineyards and wineries as far as the eye can see. There's not much to not like about Napa Valley. It seems to offer the idyllic, carefree life that most of us yearn for but never get around to, and does so in the most spectacular of surroundings. Add to that an unheard concentration of some of the best restaurants anywhere and Napa almost starts to sound like paradise. I feel like every trip up there will make me want to come back for more - a cause certainly helped this time by a long-awaited visit to the French Laundry.

The Simplicity Of Spaghetti: Scarpetta

My childhood was very conflicted. My parents loved to travel and explore new places, and they loved taking us everywhere too. Before the ripe old age of 12, I had already been to Australia, Bangkok, Switzerland, Mauritius, London, Hong Kong (twice), Singapore (thrice) and even 2 different Disneylands (Paris and Orlando). And yet, wherever we went, we always ate Indian food. There was no exploration when it came to matters of the stomach. There was always an Indian restaurant waiting to be found in a city and somehow, we always found it. If it hadn't been for my uncle AK, I would probably have left Switzerland never knowing what fondue was. The one exception to the rule, however, seemed to be for Italian food. Pizza and pasta were somewhat tolerable to my dad, and we always looked forward to the respite it provided from the cuisine monotony, creating an everlasting bond with the food. Yet, it almost got to a point that when my food horizons were finally expanded, new Italian restaurants were one of the last few I wanted to try. Still, it is always hard for me to say no to a great bowl of pasta and luckily for it, Scarpetta has a few.

It Takes A Village: Recette

When I first moved to New York, I never understood why everyone wanted to live in the West Village. The buildings were all old, the apartments were small and dingy, there was usually no air-conditioning for the summer and you were almost guaranteed a three or four floor walkup on your way back home each night. No, apartments in the Village were not for me and I ended up picking a nice, luxury high-rise in Midtown, replete with all the amenities I could think of. All these years on, I'd probably still do the same - I am a sucker for the "modern" apartment - but at least now I can see the charm of living in the neighborhood encompassed by Houston and 14th Street on the west side of Manhattan. There are gorgeous tree-lined streets, cobblestone pathways, small stores selling everything you could possibly think of and quaint cafes and restaurants on almost every corner that would make living in the area quite interesting to say the least. You're likely to come across some amazing finds just walking around the streets of the Village, and Recette is just one of those restaurants.

Gorging On Atmosphere: Junoon

I've been inundated with restaurant recommendation requests recently. Whether for my sister's visit to London or a friend's mother's to New York, it seems I have become some what of a human restaurant guide. To be honest, I enjoy handing them out, so its really not a complaint as much as an observation.  In fact, the very point of starting this blog was to share my restaurant experiences with the aim of people trying them out. However, even before the origin of this blog, I was always asked about Indian restaurant recommendations by colleagues and friends alike. While this poses no problem when it comes to London, which has some of my favorite Indian restaurants of all time, they are few and far between in New York. Most Indian restaurants here dollop oodles of cream on practically everything on the menu and seem overly reliant on the popularity of their chicken tikka masala. So anytime a new Indian restaurant opens in New York, I am eager to try it to see if it will break the mold and actually represent the art of good Indian cooking to this city. My uncle had pointed me to an article about the recently opened Junoon, and when RC wanted to get us all out to celebrate our win in the recent Cricket World Cup, it seemed like an ideal location.

Birthday Vegetables: Dovetail

My birthday is my favorite day in the year. It's the one day where I get to speak to everyone I care about and yes, it makes me feel very special. I even mentally check off all the people that I expect to call me that day and invariably, I am never disappointed. I've known people who don't like to advertise the fact that it is their birthday; I, on the other hand, am telling everyone who cares to listen! There's not much to complain about, especially when friends go out of their way to make it even more special for you. This especially came through when I asked my friend KF to surprise me with a restaurant at her offer to take me out for a birthday dinner, resulting in her inspired choice of Dovetail.

Sambar By The Bay: Dosa

There are a number of times that I have asked and been asked the question - "If there was only one type of food you could eat for the rest of your life, what would it be?" Invariably, I have only one answer to that - South Indian, and more specifically, dosa. It is far and away my favourite food. The crisp rice-lentil pancake accompanied by a steaming hot bowl of sambar, potato masala and chutney just make for a perfect, well balanced meal. It is my first meal in the morning each time I go home and the only dish I can really eat multiple sittings in a row! There was a time back in college that any trip to New York would always involve a first stop at Pongal, which at the time was the only place in the city you could get a decent dosa. Times have changed since then and the arrival of Saravanaa Bhavan and Tiffinwallah have made Pongal an afterthought for dosa in New York. However, as I have discovered on some of my recent trips there, the Bay Area has developed its own contender in the imaginatively named Dosa.

Truffled Summer: Perbacco

I love the summer in New York. The only reason the (oh, so very cold) winters are bearable is because there is the promise of spring and summer to follow. Nothing seems to illustrate the summer better than a walk through the East Village on a pleasant summer Saturday evening. The streets are bustling with people who, in a dramatic about face for New York, have a smile on their faces and don't seem to have a care in the world. Most enticingly, the streets are lined with small, open air restaurants and cafes, from tables on the sidewalk to open bay windows flooding the small spaces with the warm summer air. One of these charming little restaurants, and one of my favourite Italians in the city, is Perbacco.