The sea makes me hungry, just like the mountains do. Or maybe it's a holiday that makes me hungry. Either way, 40 degrees and 80% humidity notwithstanding, Goa was all about biking from one beach shack to another, lolling under umbrellas with beers, lemonades and books, and tucking into some gorgeous food. There were some dreadful meals too, but let's not talk about those. Here's my favourite Goa shack food from my trip a few months ago! f you ever visit, which I'm sure you will, give these a go.
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Eat Out
My husband and I take golf lessons over the weekend (learning to play golf opens up our holiday options a fair bit we realised a while ago, so here were are!), so every Sunday we find ourselves in Chiswick, hungry. This weekend being the Ride London bike event, we landed up on Chiswick High Road on a Saturday. Just as well, Kisaku it turns out is closed on Sunday!
A blog post on food travelling India is never easy! I was born in Mumbai and grew up across the country. But even after twenty-five years of living, travelling, and eating in that extraordinary country, I realised there was so much I hadn't seen, so much I hadn't experienced and oh so much I hadn't tasted. So earlier this year, after a good few years in London, I took off for two months to fill in the gaps I could, travelling from Mumbai and Goa on the west coast to Lucknow and Delhi in the north, and Dehradun in the foothills of the Himalayas, and then attempting a 4 day trek in the mountains too. A fantastic trip, I let myself go, and let India fill up my senses with all her diversity, flavours, smells, and emotions. Here's a recap of some of my favourite food from my trip. If you ever visit (go do it!), don't forget to try these out :)
I've been visiting Dehradun almost every year for the last seventeen, to see my grandparents. I'm normally far too happy pigging on my favourite home food (a list is sent to my grandma in advance just in case she's confused my favourites with my sister's or my cousins'!), to bother with stepping out to explore local restaurants.
Two guys, a girl, and a steak house. An old old friend's annual trip to London means that the three of us, my husband, him, and I catch up for a massive help-i-can't-move-anymore meal at a restaurant that I pick. Why do I get to choose? They couldn't be bothered where we're going so long as the portions are large and meaty, and well, I have a list I'd like to check off.