The Samosa Party, Dubai

So, when I confirmed to Dina that I would be flying out to see her and enjoy her hospitality in her home, she casually asked me if I could make Samosas. Apparently, her punjabi flatmate, Aneesh had been craving fresh, homemade samosas and wondered if I, as a fellow punjabi, was able to indulge him. Now, it would have been incorrect for me to say that I couldn't make them, as essentially, the actual recipe is very simple. However, the humble, much loved samosa is not really an 'instant' snack, easy to throw together, in the way a pakora is, for example. No. The samosa is usually made in bulk, in stages, and made as part of a group activity, usually for a special event and usually well in advance of whatever event that may be. Well, at least that's how it is in my family! So, although I have made them many times in the company of my mum, sisters and aunts, I have never actually made them all on my own.

But I wasnt going to admit to that! So, can I make Samosas?! 'Of course I can', I said. 'Can we have a Samosa Party when you get here then Raj?' Err....ok then..... (nervous cough)...

SO, shortly after confirming that I would have to batch cook samosa's for the party, I was in the kitchen with my mum, cooking up a 'dry run'. She whipped out the samosa rotis she had prepared earlier from the freezer (as you do), defrosted them, instructed me on how to properly prepare the filling, and we had knocked up a batch of fresh, delicious samosas before you could say 'get me to the world's biggest mall'.

I must admit, I was more than a little nervous on the morning of the party. The enormity of the task dawned on me. What if i got the seasoning all wrong? (I never use enough salt, apparently...) What if they were too greasy? What if they tasted awful? What if they tasted great, but I didn't make enough? That wouldn't be much of a samosa party. What if I couldn't work out how to make triangles from the strip pastry we had found in the supermarket?! I had only ever used the semi-circle home-made rotis, not the shop bought ones...Yup, I was worried. It seemed like there were too many variables that could screw up!

Of course, we got asked the obvious question many times: 'Why don't you just buy them?'

That's the thing with Dubai, you don't really need to do anything for yourself, cos you can 'just buy' anything and have it delivered to your door.  Sure, there's nothing wrong with that, but no one knows how to make anything anymore, and I think without the labour of love that comes with making it yourself, you miss something really special. Anyway, it's precisely because you CAN get anything you want pretty much instantly in Dubai made me want to NOT buy. The act of 'making' here is being lost to the act of 'purchasing' in a way that feels more exaggerated than in other places. The making of these babies from scratch started to feel a bit like a political statement in my mind! Not quite the Great Salt March, but I'm feeling the Ghandian principles!

Drama aside, to be fair, I wasn't really alone in this task. I had my trusty helpers, Dina and Aneesh to hand! Together, we made it happen.

First, the labour intensive task of cutting all those potatoes…

Followed by cooking up the filling. I went for a classic potato and peas combo, flavoured with mustard seeds, salt, chilli powder and coriander powder. Once the mixture is cooled, I add a squeeze of fresh lemon juice over the top.

I worked out the best way to shape the pastry strips into the right type of cone shape, and before long Aneesh had that technique locked down pretty quick:

Dina perfected the Punjabi Filling and Sticking Maneuver:

At one point, we feared we wouldnt have enough samosas to make a party. This minor panic let to Aneesh's genius idea of topping up the remaining filling with cheese:

Once fried, these would be the stars of the batch!

Not long after the frying had commenced, the guests started to arrive. Unsurprisingly, the Germans got there first. Or should I say, on time! 

Here are the boys on the balcony:

The samosas seemed to get the loving I had hoped they would:

Overall, the whole thing seemed to turn out pretty damn well!

It was great to come back to Dubai, see some great faces from the past, and stay with dear friends from the present. Not to mention, there is something very satisfying about all that deep fat frying! Especially when you get to serve it up to friends. Thanks for having me people. Can't wait to see you again. xx

Winter – Summer – Spring

I'm a seasonal baby. I love the changes of the seasons.

Especially when the change is marking the end of Winter.

Today, in London, I picked my first daffodil and drank in the beauty of the first blossoms on the trees and I literally felt like singing and skipping all the way down the road, it made me so damned happy.

Spring takes my breath away!

The thing about being capable of feeling such intense joy at such simple pleasures, is that it leaves you capable of feeling pretty damn miserable too. I had taken about as much of Winter as I could, I had delved deep for the last dredges of optimism inside me, and found that there was actually none left. Gone, empty, exhausted. So, I booked me a ticket to the sun, and I hid myself away for 2 weeks. Winter turned to Summer in a matter of 6 hours. And now I'm back home to glorious Spring. An inverted way of experiencing the seasons, but beautiful.

And it feels great!

I went to stay with some very dear friends, in a city that always inspires a contradiction of emotions in me. My heart opens when I am there because of the people I know there. Also because the place has been good to me. But it also appalls, horrifies, amuses and leaves me 'flabergasted'. I don't get to use that word much, but it feels right here. Dubai is NUTS, totally bonkers.

The weirdest city on the planet, where testosterone seems to be oozing out of each corner like ectoplasm in Ghostbusters. Testosterone fuelled buildings and cars, all bigger, shinier, glossier, and more Freudian than the last.  New developments appear almost the instant after the idea is conceived. You feel as though you are walking through an actual CGI modelled town. My first reaction upon walking through the recently built 'JBR' development, was that it felt as though I was in 'Far Far Away' out of Shrek 2. I swear the place is modelled by Disney-Pixar. 

The women are all tottering handbags and perfectly polished nails (I am always amazed at how much can be done to a nail to 'perfect' it...I mean, really?) Yes, I indulged in a pedicure. My feet looked amazing. Again I felt a bit appalled at the ridiculousness of the whole process, all those 'tools', and 'you want round or square nails, French or regular, Maam-Sir?'. Not to mention the very western awkwardness one feels knowing that these women are probably getting next to nothing to be squatting at your feet scrubbing your dead skin off your heels and graciously beautifying your feet. It all felt a bit icky. The village girl in me was deeply embarrased, the 'princess' in me said 'because I'm worth it'. And yet you can't help but be impressed with the skill of the task, feel some glee that you can indulge in such frivolousness and you can't help admiring the results! The results were gooood. That feeling of liking something, but not liking that you like it...if you know what I mean, for me, sums up Dubai. The whole city is like one big exploitative but glossy pedicure. Maam-Sir.

There is no reason to mention the tallest building, largest mall, silly palm/world shaped islands.....boring boring boring....none of that ever really interested me. It's just all too damn silly. Again, too much testosterone. And then there are things that just deeply upset me. Like hearing about the captured Dolphins in the 'biggest aquarium in the world'. Broke my heart into a million pieces, Dolphins are sacred. I chose not to look at those things. 

What I love about Dubai is that something about the place makes me relax my shoulders, breathe deeply the warm air, inhale the sea, indulge in a few guilty excesses. In 2005 I lived and worked in Dubai for 4 months, and I met some wonderful people and had an incredible time. 

I also got to eat some wonderful food. Oh, the food in Dubai!!! The city is fantastic for the quality of its eateries. Amazing indian restaurants, fantastic japanese (they have Zuma...we didnt manage to make it there, but I hear its incredible), top class italian (although don't bother ordering tiramisu in a muslim country. You will get a lovely cake, but nothing resembling the alcohol soaked desert that shares the same name). Most of all I love the fresh juices and my favourite drink in DXB, the AWESOME Mint Lemonade. Intensely sour lemon juice, fresh mint and sugar syrup combined is a brilliant thirst quencher. Basically a virgin mojito…HEAVEN. I couldn't get enough of it. (I feel the same way about Nimboo Pani in the Punjab. I think that drink actually saved my life out there once. Well, that may be a slight dramatisation, but I do remember being revived from almost-fainting after taking a few medicinal gulps!) Food in Dubai is incredible, I even love the supermarkets there. The range of fresh produce is fantastic and the spice racks of fresh spices is delight to shop from. I love it.

Finally, I musn't forget the other incredible foodie experience of Dubai: the Friday Brunch. This, my friends, is the epitome of gluttony. (Again, I liked it, bit didnt like that I liked it! I may need therapy...)

Friday brunch is a jaw dropping feast of food, which starts around midday and continues for hours and hours...you begin with sipping pink bubbly booze, and you proceed to the myriad of stalls to begin the feasts: choose from Mexican, Chinese, Japanese, Lebanese, Indian, British (the chip stall), you name it, its there. As much as you like, for as long as you like, for one fixed price. There are starters from each cuisine, all pretty damn excellent, then mains. I had BBQ prawns, oysters, sushi, fresh salads, some fajitas, there were roast dinners, lebanese mezze...I could go on and on. The desserts had me silent for a long time, lost in a heady chocolate sugar high, all the while the ever attentive waiters silently and discreetly topped up your glass with the bubbly good stuff. It dosen't take long to drift into a daze of gluttonous blurry eyed dreaminess. I felt like a fat cat colonial middle aged man bursting out of a my metaphorical dinner jacket, cigar and whiskey in hand, being waited on by the 'natives'. Didnt like it. But I liked it. See what this place is doing to me?!?! I think I do need therapy!

Dubai is like that. You enter with fresh eyes and you shift uncomfortably in your seat, hesitant to allow yourself to accept its oddness and seductive excess. But at some point you give in. Because deep down, it caters to our shadow side, the side we all want to indulge in but not acknowledge. On the other hand, the city is one of the most optimistic places I have ever been. Anything and everything is possible. Everything can and will get done. Dubai lives in the moment, has fun, feasts, feels the heat of the sun, throws caution to the wind and accepts itself for what it is. And it is one big experiment. It has no fear. I can't help but like it for that.

I loved it there. I loved that the city challenged me, and always will. 

I continue to meet wonderful people there, and eat wonderful food, and feel an affection for the place, despite myself. I described it as a big warm blanket that wrapped itself around me and gave me a 'welcome back' hug. I was in need of such a hug.

Besides, as long as the angels that took care of me are in that city, I wont be staying away for long. Thankyou, you beautiful ladies, for taking care of me. Love you dearly. 

Save me a spot next to you on the beach.

xxxx