As always, he had to abandon me at the time I needed him the
most. And for what? A very important, secret, (cult-ish*) meeting to
attend. That too on the day a giant meteorite strikes the earth (read MIL
coming over home)… Hapless and confused, I decide to leave with him anyways and
pay a visit to my beloved childhood friend (ok, again sub-text for
self-centred, needy, oh-I’m-so-better-than-you sorta friend whom you can never
shake off, even if you move cities… countries… planets… galaxies… you get my
drift). A 20 minute cab drive and a lecture on “how it is absolutely abominable
and contemptible it is to have women work and live off your wife’s/daughter’s
money” later, I reach the narrow, crowded by-lanes of Mahalaxmi.
I am escorted by my beloved friend and promptly taken
upstairs to her 6th floor apartment. She has just moved to town with
her husband (whom I’m not particularly fond of…about which I could tell you but
that would be digressing… and I NEVER do that, as you would come to know). It’s
a nice little apartment she has got all to herself (fine, I’m jealous she gets
to live all alone… you know what that means right? C’mon, I can’t spell out
everything… there’s something known as discretion after all…) (I’m also jealous
of some beautiful china she has got from my most favourite store ever, from
where I cannot shop because I have no proper place to keep such beautiful china
because even after a year and a half of marriage, the house renovation remains
impending… talk about having an efficient husband. Humph!) Some snacks, delicious
coffee (I have to give it to her. She makes the best coffee ever) and whining
about our respective mothers-in-law later, we decide to take a small trip to
the nearby mall.
Some window shopping (things are either too expensive or too
tight… literally… fat thighs anyone?) later, we are joined by her husband. It’s
almost 9.30 on a Friday night and the two of them are still indulging me
because my husband is still too busy chanting hymns, performing rituals, and
generally being a part of a secret cult (which he claims is a fraternity) and
not answering his phone.
We decide to get some dinner. I feel guilty for not only
intruding but also having them treat me to dinner (fyi, it was nothing special
or fancy… it didn’t taste very good at all actually). So I offer to buy them
dessert at a nice place (trust me, it was a necessity after that meal).
We prance about the mall and finally reach one of the city’s
most famous eateries called… (Umm… wait a sec… I’m not sure how I feel about
free publicity yet… if someone was to throw me a free meal or something, I
could consider…because it would still technically be “free” publicity… if you
can work out the link) And lo and behold, my phone rings! It’s my darling
husband calling to tell me what an amazing time he had *dancing the chicken
dance, wearing crow feathers on his head, wearing a garland made out of egg
shells…(ok maybe he didn’t say that…but I’m not sure that that’s not what
actually transpired… I would never really know… since it’s a secret cult, I
mean “fraternity” and my husband takes his vows very seriously. Except for the
ones he took at our marriage. Like keeping me happy and taking me around the
world and buying me beautiful jewellery… so what if that’s not what the priest
said? That’s just implied! But yes, enough digression!)
Darling husband would be joining us shortly he says. So we
take a table for 4 at a booth for 8. I’m assuming the restaurant staff must
have assumed it’s going to be a reasonably big order and so were being
reasonable accommodating to us. We wait and we wait and we wait and finally
darling husband turns up. Just a little over 40 mins after we spoke… (I was not
mad at all… I perfectly understood… That’s just the sort of wife I am after
all…) Trying to be at his usual charming best, he starts cracking jokes and has
us all (at least me) laughing. We place our gianormous order comprising of 2
cappuccinos, 1 tea and a chocolate mud cake.
Now you would think that I would gush and fawn over how
delicious the chocolate cake was, in case you are gullible enough to fall for
my name and believe I’m going to write about cookies and cakes and all the
things you bake… but don’t forget the prefix to the word “baker”. Eccentric.
The cake was not much too my liking. A little too bitter, if
you ask me, but everyone else loved it.
What really had me transported to this world of absolute
bliss was the divine Cinnamon and Clove Tea. Just a whiff of it and I was in
heaven. (Lucky enough, they serve it in a tea pot so you get two cups…hehahaha…
What? It’s recession!) That was easily the best tea I have ever had. Can easily
gulp down innumerable cups of it (bladder permitting. Ok fine, I’m gross too)
with some lovely cherry crumble or apple cake (that is not the only mention that
cakes are going to get in this blog. Promise.)
With the heavy downpour outside, and the hoarse throat
inside (I have a bad cold. And a bad sense of humour. Completely unrelated but
totally relevant things to share) darling husband and I decide to recreate the
magic. Of the Tea. The beautiful Cinnamon and Clove Tea. (what did you think? I
mean seriously, get your mind out of the gutter). And since I’m busy writing my
first ever blog post (yay!!!) my darling
husband, despite the multiple warts on his feet which make it difficult for him
to walk
(we used to think
they were corns earlier and refer to them as cornfields…ha…ok, maybe funny only
for us), very sweetly makes some aforementioned tea
for us (with the help of my instructions of course).
Did it turn out to be as good as the one we had at…?(you
thought I would trip, didn’t you ;) )
Well, with my cold, there’s no way of knowing. I can’t smell
a porcupine’s spray for heaven’s sake. But it did feel nice and soothing to my
inflamed throat. And it does sort of comes very close to the best cup of tea
I’ve ever had only because darling husband made it being in the condition that
he is… Men do redeem themselves sometimes :)
If you care enough for the recipe, we used 1 and a half cups
of water, one clove, a pinch of cinnamon and a teaspoon of Assam
tea. I believe Darjeeling tea might
be a better option but we used what we had. Just boil the clove and cinnamon in
the water for about a minute or two and then add the tea. You don’t want the
tea to overpower the flavours and aromas of the cinnamon and the clove so don’t
brew for too long. We enjoyed it without sugar but feel free to add some if
that’s not your cup of tea ;)
Goodnight!
