Thursday, October 29, 2009

The Good Housekeeping Post :)

Those who relish cooking, enjoy the whole process. Yeah, the cleaning up after the cooking bit too.*
But what's most crucial is getting the ingredients part, a tedious job, but very fulfilling. Sourcing the freshest veges and the succulent fruits from the farmers' market rather than hopping to the nearest food mart. Threatening the butcher with dire consequences if he didn't deliver the required cut. Or spending, obscene number of hours at the spice market... sniffing for the right asafoetida or maniacally looking for the purest saffron. A real cook, enjoys the whole process. And Lebanese cuisine demands such cooks.
Though the cuisine has few ingredients, and simple methods, it is extremely flavorful, nutty, zesty etcetera. Freshness of the ingredients comes through in each bite. Try hummus at a fine Lebanese place, and you will begin to comprehend the magic that fresh lemon, racy garlic and plump chickpeas can create.

Now, can we talk a little about the humble eggplant or the aubergine, as we have learned to call it. I can't imagine doing anything with the eggplant, apart from roasting it, and then frantically smashing it to come up with Baingan Ka Bharta [eggplant smash]. And that's about it.

However, the French are known to create wonders with this vegetable - Ratatouille Terrine [go figure] and Yemenite Eggplant [go figure again] for instance. Very complicated and supposedly very delicious too.
French are very particular about their food, and about their recipes too. Google French Recipes and it prompts you with Easy French Recipes. :D Nah, nothing easy about this cuisine.
On a completely different note, somehow I think, the French invented fine dining. Mac & Cheese needs no fine dining experience, neither does aloo paratha. But Ratatouille Terrine, certainly does.

Have you ordered Domino's pasta? Then you perhaps, ate pasta, because 1) you were bored of pizzas or 2) were in the mood for some Foreign khana 3) saw the ad, liked what you saw and wanted to try it[oh c'mon I
want to believe this :)]. Thing is, if you are a true pasta connoisseur, you wouldn't want to ruin your pasta experience with some quick fix domino's. The gourmands know their cheese and their fusilli and rotelle. There's no fooling them with just a cream and tomato options. Comprendere?

*here's my tip – clean as you go. Don't pile up the mess for the last.

Wednesday, October 28, 2009

Done seeing my cake? Can I now eat it please?

Birthday cakes for kids, are a big deal. And that makes it a big deal for the mommies too. So, what does the mommy do? She goes to the swankiest cake shop in town and orders a big, pretty cake for her little dahling's big day. The cake that would get the tiny tots swooning and their mommies trying to figure out, where it came from.

These days, birthday parties have themes, all of them do; so just a Chocolate double layer, butterscotch or black currant, won't do. Something fancier, something very unique, something that's personal, works better.

Of course the cake has to be yummy, but first it has to make a statement. A POGO statement.

Taking stock. One ad, at a time.

The other day, a friend of mine asked me something as harmless as, “Aren't you into investing.”
Huh? Why the hell should I be into investing?

I am into movies, I am into working out, I am into baking, but I am not into investing.
Questions about Investing invariably led me to money... and that led me to my chosen career, which I terribly enjoy [not always, but mostly].

And then, out of nowhere, I had this moment. The moment when I realised that for the last five years, all I have been doing is chasing that witty headline, that lyrical bodycopy and that perfect ad. And now, it's that moment, that what-the-bloody-hell-were-you-up-to moment.

So, while I have shied away from saving and investing, there's no dilly dallying this one... I want to take stock of my work. One ad, at a time.

Friday, October 16, 2009

It's that bright, bright day...

Today, there will be no clever commentary, no smart Alec anything.
Just a simple wish.


Tuesday, October 13, 2009

Happiness is a shoe called Jimmy Choo.

I call her Ms Z, for reasons unbeknown to me. The only reason I can think of is that I know no woman with a Z in her name. So as to avoid any is-it-me? Is-it-her? questions, at any point in time. However, make no mistake, I quite like Ms Z. Well when I introduced Ms Z to my world, she was this one particular woman. But later, I started to notice a pattern, and Ms Z went on to become a type. Do I hate to admit the type? Yes I do. A type that I quite grudgingly approve of, a type that I even more grudgingly, hope to become. However, I have realized that there's nothing that will make me happier than being like Ms Z, and this I have realized it good.

Now, explaining this type. Ms Z knows what she want and works hard towards getting what she wants, leads a pretty simple life [not the simple living simple, but a fairly straight life, if you may call it so]. She pursues simple things in life, like a Gucci limited edition bag or the 47th pair of peep-toe heels. And she knows how to go about getting it. Well, the thing is, pursuit of such simple pleasures gives us the power to control. We know exactly what is required from us to get that. Everything – the kind of effort involved, the people, etcetera. Of course it requires hard work, but you at least know where you are headed.

Isn't that true for everything you say? No, it's not.
Being a decent copywriter for instance [if I come across as overtly ambitious, then no I am not, just a little maybe, but a better copywriter I do want to become]. So, the problem with wanting that is I have to depend on so many factors. Am I in the right place, writing the right stuff, for the right brands. What are the chances that someone else out there is working harder.

Now, let's talk about love/relationships. I have friends whose lives revolve around that perfect relationship. Now, that's not bad, but it's terribly sad. Because, for all you know, your object of affection could be pursuing a lofty pay cheque and not your heart. Now, these [career/money and love/relationships] are the only things I could think of, but I am sure there are many. However, should you choose to pursue any of them with much gusto, be prepared to end up sad.

So... Take a dream breath, close your eyes, think of Prada, Versace and all things nice, bring out the Ms Z in you, and discover a truly happier, newer you. [yes, this is so Chicken Soup and I am cringing too :D]

Friday, October 9, 2009

INGLORIOUS BASTERDS – oh no, it's not a review.

Now, c'mon I wouldn't dare such a thing. Because I am so not qualified to write anything about it. Just that it's one helluva cool movie. And if you haven't watched it twice, you must. You must. And the reason for this post is , this awesome poster.

n.b. Mr. Tarantino, you are one of the coolest men around, you know that right?
And Mr. Pitt, thanks for changing the way i perceive mustached men.

Monday, October 5, 2009

But I think I am just right for Amul Chocolate.

As you grow older, wiser or not, you come to terms with a few facts of life. The most important one being, coming to realize that there will be things that you wouldn't be able to do/get, not now, not anytime soon, not ever. However, you choose to move on. As we attempted to be adults, back then, long, long time ago, didn't we all think that the universe had just one agenda – to make us happy and help us get whatever we wanted. Didn't we all? And then suddenly you are this adult, you always attempted to be; and you realize, universe is out there busy with something else or someone else, and you don't feature nowhere.

Facts I've learned to live with -

That I wouldn't be creating that Nike ad.

That I wouldn't backpack across Europe, without a care in the world. [nope that's not happening; I am too bothered about my maid coming on time and pettier matters]

That no amount of conditioner can get me silky straight hair.

That kids no longer call me didi, aunty it is. [and even if they would, their mean mothers wouldn't let them. Damn.]

That every cliché holds true.

That I am still trying to fit in. Somewhere.

Now, the good part about getting older -

I don't expect much. Hence, will not do much. [Hee heee]

I, for once in my life, know my priorities.

Being rude is okay. Perfectly okay. [I don't know what this has got to do with age, but somehow it does.]

The sense of urgency.