(Not So) High Pie!

With a menu full of yummy pizzas in a range of sizes more than making up for the uninspired service and lacklustre ambience, this new mid-town pizza place gets some of its basics right, never mind its rather misleading name.     

By Raul Dias

Over the years we’ve come to realise that expectations can be dangerous things. Especially in this context, when pitted against one of the most interesting iterations of the humble pizza pie—the Chicago-style deep dish. That gooey 2-inch high creation crammed full of molten cheese and other scrumptious treats like good old pepperoni and spicy chicken sausage is made famous by iconic Chicago pizza places like Lou Malnati’s and Giordano’s.
Driving by Mahim’s main L.J. Road, seeing this new pizza place take shape over the last couple of months, we couldn’t wait to give it a try. Hoping fervently that we’d finally find the deep dish at Chicago Pizza. After all, it’s even named after it. We’re sad to report that we didn’t! There’s everything but the said deep dish pizza on their rather extensive menu.
Greeted by an empty restaurant and a deserted counter, we sat ourselves down on the uncomfortably low chairs, fronted by an even lower table. It would be almost ten minutes later that the restaurant’s staff finally emerges from their hibernation in the back kitchen and we are beckoned over to the counter to place our order in typical QSR style. All payments made upfront; we waited another half an hour to see some action on our table.
Choosing the large (14-inch) thin crust Italian pepperoni pizza (Rs 529) from a wide range of sizes that range from a single slice (Rs 189) to an extra-large (Rs 909 for an 18-inch) one proved to be a good decision. Bursting with the gooey umami goodness of cheese with the spicy hit of the pork pepperoni, we were in love with this pizza from the first bite. Equally scrumptious was the medium sized (9-inch) four cheese pizza (Rs 269) where one could taste the distinct flavours of the Monterrey, cheddar, gouda and mozzarella cheeses in this creamy, tomato-sauce bereft pizza.
Sadly, our trio of mocktails were rather disappointing. While the Indian spice soda (Rs 99) was anything by spicy, the virgin mojito (Rs 99) was a watery, over-sugared miss. Faring a tad better, though flat and minus the fizz, was our strawberry cooler (Rs 99).
While wishing the pizzaiolo (pizza chef) was a tad more generous with their light-handed sprinkling of mini chicken meatballs, we still loved the herby taste of the large chicken meatball pizza (Rs 399). Packed with the punch of robust Indian flavours, our medium sized rustic mushroom pizza (Rs 269) rounded off our pizza action for the day perfectly with its savoury goodness.
Choosing to go a little ‘off-piste’ in our final selection of savoury items, the Italian chicken pasta in a white sauce (Rs 259) was composed of perfectly al dente penne with BBQ chicken morsels, corn and jalapenos, giving both the dish and us a spicy send off!   
     
AT: Chicago Pizza, 148-150 Kadriwadi, L.J. Road, Mahim West.
TIME: 10 am to 11.30 pm
CALL: 9833783615

(An edited version of this review appeared in the 24th February 2020 issue of the Mid-Day newspaper, India on page 21 https://www.mid-day.com/articles/slice-of-goodness/22638243)
                                                                 

Armenia via Dhaka

Once home to a bustling population of Armenian traders, Armanitola—the Armenian Quarter of Old Dhaka is a fine repository of history and culture, reinforcing the strong bond between Bengal and Armenia     

By Raul Dias

I’m pretty sure that I must have made quite a spectacle of myself that sweltering summer afternoon in Dhaka, waving a soiled 100 Taka note in front of scores of bewildered noses walking past me. Even my pithy attempt at mouthing a few Bengali words, seemed to fall on deaf ears. But finally—after almost giving up any remaining hope—my phone’s wavering GPS decided to kick into action. And thus, I found myself standing in front of a structure I had been staring at every time I coughed up a 100 Taka note over my previous two days in Bangladesh.
To put it all into context, I had made the trek down the dusty alleyways of Old Dhaka with the sole aim of visiting the rather unusual Tara Masjid. For the iconic and ironically named “Star Mosque” finds a place of glory for itself on the ‘tails’ side of a 100 Taka bank note. All this thanks to its four domes that are decorated in the rare Chini Tikri (Chinese art) porcelain tile mosaic work in star motifs.
But little did I know then that that wonderful thing called serendipity had something entirely different planned out for me… 

The Other Armani!
Unbeknownst to me, I had meandered my way into Old Dhaka’s Armenian quarter. Called Armanitola, the small neighbourhood on the shores of the turgid Buriganga river was once the nerve center of Armenian life in East Bengal. For this was where jute and leather traders from the South Caucasian country in Eurasia decided to set up both shop and home.
And just a mere 300 meters south of Tara Masjid, is what is believed to be the ‘Ground Zero’ of this unique quarter. Simply called the Armenian Church, the Armenian Apostolic Church of the Holy Resurrection was built in 1781 by the traders on a plot of land that they had earlier used as a cemetery.
This edifice, with its hexagonal, crucifix-topped steeple and generous narthex reminded me not just of St. Peter’s Armenian Apostolic Church in my home city of Mumbai, but also of the similarly-structured Armenian Holy Church of Nazareth in nearby Kolkata. But besides Mumbai, Kolkata and other places in West Bengal like Saidabad, even a few other Indian cities like Chennai once had a thriving Armenian population and grand churches to cater to the growing congregation that had been settling in India since the 16th century.

Blast from the past
It is weeks after I return from Bangladesh, as I leaf through a copy of the Anne Basil authored Armenian Settlements in India at Mumbai’s Asiatic Library, do I realise that there was not one, but two separate waves of an Armenian exodus to India (which Bangladesh was a part of then). The first of which was in 1645 with the aforementioned merchants arriving in Bengal, purely for trading purposes. Interestingly, the book even references an agreement of 1688 between the English East India Company and Armenian merchants that reads “whenever forty or more of the Armenian nation shall become inhabitants in any of the garrisons, cities or towns belonging to the Company in the East Indies, the said Armenians shall not only have and enjoy the free use and exercise of their religion, but there shall also be allotted to them a parcel of ground to erect a church thereon…”
It was the second exodus, however, that is the most poignant. As it was in the wake of the 1915 East Anatolia Armenian genocide of more than a million people by Turkish forces. In fact, Basil even speaks of “hundreds of children of uprooted families…found shelter and a roof and received sufficient education…” at the Armenian College and Philanthropic Academy in Kolkata, that is to this day very much functional and a source of pride for the city’s small Armenian diaspora.

Sentinels of Solemnity 
Back at the church at Armanitola, Hafiz, the old watchman who had let me in earlier tells me the story of the last Armenian in Bangladesh. All this in broken English bolstered by his wild gesticulating, of course! Apparently, up until 2014 Mikel Housep Martirossian the Dhaka-born son of an Armenian jute trader was not just the caretaker of the Armenian Church but also its sole congregant who would say his daily prayers sitting quietly in the first pew. After a stroke five years ago, he moved to Canada at the behest of his children who live there and was never heard of again.
But there is some hope for the Church, I am told. The Armenian Embassy in Dhaka that looks after its upkeep has hinted at the possibility of getting down a new warden for the church from Armenia. Till then, it’s up to Hafiz to keep the fires burning. Quite literally, as he lights the altar candles daily at 7pm.       
As I leave the church gates, I make sure to squeeze a small tip into Hafiz’s wrinkled palm. And yes, it was one of those same 100 Taka notes that started it all!

(This article first appeared in the 22nd February 2020 issue of the Mint Lounge newspaper, India on page 17 https://www.livemint.com/mint-lounge/features/the-stars-of-dhaka-s-armanitola-11582468772877.html)

Notes from Armenia

By Raul Dias

Picking an accommodation option that sits cheek-by-jowl with a primary school is always a risky proposition. One that is fraught with countless somnolence-threatening annoyances. From loud, early morning assembly calls and mid-day playground cacophony to afternoon marching band practice, the ultra-light sleeper in me has encountered it all.
But my recent stay at a family-run B&B in Yerevan—the pink-hued capital of Armenia—that shares a wall with one of the city’s most popular public schools, showed me another, more surprising facet to Armenian academia. One that struck a home run in more ways than one…

By the Book
With one of the most ambitious school chess programmes in the world, the chess-obsessed nation has made the game a compulsory subject on the national curriculum. An initiative of the then Armenian President Sersh Sargsyan who was also President of the Armenian Chess Federation, since 2011, children studying in grades two to four have two weekly chess lessons that are graded just like any other school subject. And just like the one next door, these classes are often conducted in the school playground that have sets of purposefully built concrete chess tables in a designated corner.
To keep up with this new demand, Armenia now has more than 4,000 qualified chess teachers in its school system besides national champions like Levon Aronian as visiting faculty. The once number two chess grandmaster in the world, also known fondly as Armenia’s David Beckham, today, regularly coaches kids in chess at schools across the country. Interestingly, a 2009 BBC World Service report titled Armenia: the cleverest nation on earth shows that with its population of a little over three million, Armenia is among the world leaders in chess with one of the highest numbers of chess grandmasters, per capita.  

Indian Connection
So, where and how did it all begin for this Armenia-chess love affair? Curious, I visit the Tigran Petrosian Chess House–the ‘Ground Zero’ of all things chess in the Caucasian state. Nestled on Yerevan’s leafy Khanjyan Street and built in the early1970s in the typical Soviet brutalist architectural style, the building is named after the Soviet Armenian grandmaster Tigran Petrosian who became the World Chess Champion in the 1960s.
Here, I learn, that although chess was institutionalised during the early Soviet period, the country has always had a historical love of the game that goes way back to the Middle Ages. This was proven with the discovery of an ancient chess set in the citadel of Dvin—the medieval capital of Armenia, in 1967.
At Yerevan’s imposing grey basalt Matenadaran museum of manuscripts, a digital copy of Shatrang: The Book of Chess (1936) by Joseph Orbeli and Kamilla Trever tells me more as it augments the India-Armenia chess connection. Called chatrang, a word derived from the Sanskrit term chaturanga, which translates to “four arms” (representing elephants, horses, chariots, and foot soldiers), chess apparently came to Armenia from India via the Arabs in the 9th century, when Armenia was under Arab rule.

Check, mate!
“Shakh yev mat,” is a victory cry I hear all of a sudden as I settle down with my 200 Dram (Rs 30) blueberry softy cone at a bench outside the Moscow Cinema on Yerevan’s arterial Abovyan Street next to a giant pedestrian chess set. But then, the Armenian equivalent of “check mate!” is something that I’ve been hearing at almost every public square and city park I’ve sauntered past in the last few days. There’s probably na’er a public space in Yerevan that doesn’t have at least a couple of chess tables, with players of all ages hunched over an intense game of chatrang.
On a free walking tour of Yerevan, as a passing shot, our guide Varko lets us in on a little-known chess world secret. As it so happens, Garry Kasparov, the former Soviet grandmaster, and easily the world’s best ever chess player, is of Armenian heritage, though he was born in Baku, Azerbaijan. Apparently, his original surname was Kasparyan—which has the ubiquitous finale of an Armenian surname, which usually end in “ian” or “yan”.         

(This article first appeared in the 9th February 2020 issue of The Hindu newspaper's Sunday Magazine section on page 10 https://www.thehindu.com/life-and-style/travel/notes-from-armenia/article30762980.ece)       

Borderline Bizarre

An illegal U.S. border crossing simulation—as both a deterrent and for some hair-raising thrills—is the number one attraction at an amusement park in the central Mexican town of Ixmiquilpan. 

By Raul Dias

The stillness of the night, that has for the last half an hour or so, been interrupted only by the drowsy hum of cicadas and the occasional sharp intake of breath is suddenly punctured by the shrill, polyphonic blaring of sirens. An enormous hummer, all lit up in flashing blue and red lights comes to a screeching halt. Four armored men wearing bullet-proof vests emblazoned with the words ‘U.S. Border Patrol’ spill out of the vehicle. Their 9mm handguns trained on our motley bunch of eight.
One of the Mexican guys in our group attempts an escape as he runs towards the river. “No van a cruzar el rio!”, a stocky border patrol agent yells at him in Spanish while firing a blank at the ground. “None of you are going to cross the river tonight,” he repeats, this time in accented English for the benefit of a few of us non-Mexicans.
We had been warned that this would most likely happen. And just like that we soon come to the grim realisation that our game is up. Quite literally.

The Night Walk
First things first. Everything mentioned in the above reimagination of that freezing cold night in September did take place. And no, it isn’t a fragment of some dystopian dream. Nor was I, contrary to what it might seem, attempting to illegally enter the United States of America.
Our ‘capture’ was, in fact, the culmination of a weekly four hour-long border crossing simulation activity offered by the Parque Eco Alberto, an amusement park in the central Mexican town of Ixmiquilpan. Earlier that day I had paid 350 Mexican pesos (Rs 1,320) to experience a ‘lite’ version of what thousands of people go through every single night of the year. All in the hope of making it to the ‘promised land’ on the other side, the United States of America.
Known as La Camina Nocturna or The Night Walk, the simulation has been taking place at the park every Saturday night since July 31, 2004. The walks are stewarded by locals, many of whom have tried to illegally cross into the U.S. themselves. And although the park is some 700 miles away from the actual Mexico-U.S. border, the experience can get alarmingly real as it creates conditions increasingly difficult to deal with.

Perilous Beginnings 
Just like an actual illegal crossing deal, we are first introduced to our ski mask-clad guide, Macario Simon Reyes. The 38-year-old plays the role of el coyote as the human smugglers are known as in this part of the world. We assemble for prayers and a briefing in an abandoned white stucco Catholic church. It is here that we are warned about everything from the threat of kidnap at the hands of narco-traffickers to the possibility of dying from desert condition extremes such as heatstroke and hypothermia and even being eaten by wild animals.
“And if this seems extreme, reality is a whole other deal,” says Macario. “Many think that the simulation serves as a sort of training for illegal border crossings. But what we are doing couldn’t be more opposite. Our mission is to help stop the emigration by acting as a deterrent to those who might be thinking of doing so. It’s very difficult in reality. It’s very ugly”
For close to five hours one is expected to belly crawl through tunnels, march through mud and ford the Tula River that stands in for the infamous Rio Grande at the border. All this, while trying to avoid getting caught by la migra, as the border patrol agents are nicknamed.

Nunca Más
The park itself, I’m told, is partly funded by the government and communally owned by the indigenous Hñahñu tribe who live on 3,000 acres of land scattered across the state of Hidalgo. Interestingly, Macario tells me that at one point over 80% of Hidalgo’s population was lost to emigration, leaving Ixmiquilpan almost a ghost town. But not today. The population has increased over the years by almost an eighth. This he attributes not just to the deterrent message that the simulation conveys to the town’s youth, but also to the many jobs that it has created for the community. So much so that a recent report by U.S. Customs and Border Protection suggest that illegal crossings along the southern border are down by 72% in December 2019 compared to May 2019.
As we silently cross a barren field that we’ve been told might have rattlesnakes slithering around, I get talking with 19-year-old Pilar and her twin brother, who ironically shares my name, Raúl. “We left Mexico with our parents and illegally crossed the border into the U.S. when we were 10. But after being deported five years ago and to warn us of not attempting it on our own, our dad sent us here as an important reminder of what we went through.”
As we get debriefed by Macario after being ‘released’ by the faux border patrol agents, I ask the twins if the simulation was what they had expected. “We thought that it would be a lot easier. But it isn’t,” says an exhausted Raúl. “Since we’ve been back from the U.S., our whole family has come to cherish the liberty we have here in Mexico. No more running and being chased anymore. Never again. Nunca más!”         

Travel log
Getting There 
As there are no direct flights linking India with Mexico, one can get into Mexico City via connecting flights from most major US airports. From Mexico City, Ixmiquilpan is a pleasant three-hour bus journey away. Travel within Ixmiquilpan and to the Parque Eco Alberto is relatively easy with plenty of transport options including inexpensive taxis and public buses. Indians require a Mexican visa to visit the country that can be procured from the Mexican Embassy in New Delhi. However, the visa requirement is waived off for those in possession of a valid multiple entry US visa. 

Stay
Being a relatively small town, accommodation options are limited in Ixmiquilpan, but there are a few decent, if a tad basic, hotels and guesthouses to spend a night or two in. One such option is the super low-key, but spotlessly clean Hotel Avenida Ixmiquilpan (www.hotelavenidaixmiquilpan.com.mx) with rooms overlooking a garden on the Avenue Insurgentes. Here, one can expect to pay around Rs 1,882 for a double room without breakfast. One for the few three star properties in town and one with an outdoor pool, Hotel Posada Centenario (www.posadacentenario.com) in the heart of the city has some really nice double rooms for around Rs 2,447 without breakfast.

Tip
* Besides being a hot springs town that is full of places where you can enjoy a soothing outdoor mineral bath, Ixmiquilpan also has a strong cultural side to it. The convent of San Miguel Archangel is famous for its blend of decorative styles. While the church’s wings on either side have murals in the Spanish style brought in by the Augustinian priests, its central nave has on its walls and ceiling frescoes by the indigenous Otomi Tlacuilos tribe.

(An edited version of this article first appeared in the 8th February 2020 issue of The Hindu Business Line newspaper's BLink section on page 20 https://www.thehindubusinessline.com/blink/takeaway/simulated-illegal-border-crossing-in-a-mexican-amusement-park/article30751969.ece)

Sweet Somethings...

What’s a romantic Valentine’s Day date without concluding it on a sweet note? Smart Life brings you some of India’s most beautiful and appealing shared desserts to indulge with.   

By Raul Dias

The adage “saving the best for last” has never been more apt when it comes to desserts. That sweet finish to a good meal puts the proverbial—and often, quite literal—cherry on the cake. After all, the dessert is the last thing one remembers of the meal. The luxurious goodness of every sweet bite rounding it all off so very well.
Now when combined with one of the most romantic days of the year, aka. Valentine’s Day, the results can be quite magical and special. It’s also safe to say that over the last couple of years the ante of desserts across the country has been upped. And how! From almost sculptural creations to some truly scrumptious treats, the dessert scene in India has entered a whole other realm.
Keeping this in mind, we’ve come up with a list of some of the most stunning confections to indulge in with your special someone all though this love-fuelled month of February. Enjoy!

Five Spice Cake
At Shanghai Club, ITC Grand Central, Mumbai
As its name suggests, this spicy, Chinese-style dessert packs in quite a punch at the end of a romantic dinner for two! As part of the Shanghai Club’s new menu, this layered confection is made up of 63% dark Belgian chocolate and chocolate cremeux which is further enhanced with a freshly ground mixture of five spices such as cinnamon, cloves, fennel, star anise and Sichuan peppercorns. The super-moist, flourless baked cake is also served with a whiskey-steeped Chinese pear compote for a tart and boozy contrast to its taste.

Seven Textures of Chocolate with Strawberry
At Tiamo, Conrad Bengaluru
Not just is its name a mouthful, but the main components of this decadent dessert are legendary as being associated with love. For one, chocolate has been long considered an aphrodisiacal food since the time of the Aztecs. Strawberry on the other hand, thanks to heart shape, is recognised as the symbol of Venus—the Roman Goddess of love. This visually stunning creation at the Conrad Bengaluru’s rooftop Mediterranean restaurant Tiamo is a combination of 56% chocolate, nuts, raspberries, cream cheese and fresh strawberries that are sourced from the hills of Ooty. For some additional berry heft, it is served with a quenelle made with fresh, crushed strawberries and some luscious cream cheese.

Dessert Thali
At Dhansoo Café, New Delhi
Giving an interesting desi spin to this selection of romantic shared desserts and putting a twist to the concept of a dessert platter, the innovative Dessert Thali at the brand new Dhansoo Café is a fun way to end your meal. This nine-part dessert extravaganza showcases the best of India’s regional sweet delicacies from the north to the south. And so what you get when you call for this dessert is a coconut laddu, a gulab jamun, a portion of rabdi, kesari bhat, atte ki panjiri, namak paratha, chena mukri and churros jalebi with a few slabs of Mysore pak rounding it all off.  

Warm Apple Tart
At La Loca Maria, Mumbai
Since the time of Adam and Eve in the Garden of Eden, the apple has played a vital role as a fruit that’s synonymous with love. Putting a whole other spin on the fruit, La Loca Maria’s Spanish expat founder Chef Manuel Olveira Seller sends out his rendition of an apple tart in style. His warm apple tart begins with a sweet pastry based with a crisp texture that’s extremely flavourful. The finely-sliced golden apples on the top are caramelised and dusted with icing sugar for a dramatic snow-like effect. A scoop of glossy strawberry and red wine sorbet sits atop the tart and provides the perfect icy foil to the warm tart below.

(A differently edited version of this piece was first published in the February 2020 issue of The Week's Smart Life magazine)

Isles of Infinity…

An archipelago of a little over a thousand islands, The Maldives has something for every kind of traveller, from its stunning resorts and an interesting fusion-style cuisine, to its densely-packed capital of Malé that offers a unique glimpse into the local Maldivian life.   

By Raul Dias

There’s just something about that cluster of tiny islands nestled in the Indian Ocean called The Maldives that automatically attaches the “expensive” label to it. All this, thanks to those ultra-luxurious island resort havens with cerulean waters, coupled with those bragging rights one amasses after hobnobbing with the world’s jet-setters who seem to have taken a mighty shine to this ocean paradise. But as I recently learned, that needn’t be the case. Those azure waters and palm-fringed beaches are very much accessible to the common man!
Whenever it boils down to anything related to one of my life’s greatest passions, aka. travel, the frugal opportunist in me makes his presence felt. And so, in early December last year, I found myself flying towards The Maldives aboard GoAir’s recently launched direct Mumbai- Malé flight on the very affordable return fare of Rs 11,000. The quick and comfortable flight had me touch down on the airport island of Velana in Malé, the capital of the nation in exactly two-and-a-half hours time.
But my final destination, the beautiful Mövenpick Resort Kuredhivaru was still to be a 45-minute seaplane ride away. Located just behind the main airport terminal, the seaplane terminal is the place from where one can hop onto a tiny, 14-seater aircraft that links a huge number of islands with the bustling, non-touristy capital Malé. But more on Malé later.

Blissfull Beginnings
As part of the Noonu Atoll in the northern part of The Maldives, the resort remains one of the least developed area of the country, offering guests untouched natural beauty, abundant sea life and endless views across the Indian Ocean. The resort is designed in a contemporary style with emphasis on comfortable accommodation and a private, yet stimulating resort experience. And as I was soon to find out, every modern convenience is incorporated amidst desert-island luxury.
Each of the 72 Overwater Pool Villas, 30 Beach Pool Suites and three Beach Spa Pool Residences are private havens of comfort, comprising large living rooms that lead to wide bathrooms with stand-alone bathtubs and floor to ceiling windows from which to enjoy the shimmering tropical sunlight. Traditional Maldivian arched ceilings of each residence allow fresh air to circulate freely, cooling and adding a sense of abundant space within.
Soon it was time for me to unwind at the spa and rid myself of all that pent up city-induced stress. The signature spa is an oasis of calm, where trained therapists soothe mind and body with massages and individually prepared lotions. As replenishing oils restore the body, the serene unbroken ocean views from each secluded bay relax the mind, leaving me truly at ease.

Exotic Bites!
Ever the ‘epicurious’ traveller, I simply had to have a taste of the local Maldivian cuisine—something that I had been longing to try! The stunning ONU Marché restaurant named after “onu” which is what bamboo is called in the local Dhivehi language and “marché” for market in French is where the cuisine of The Maldives—one that combines local dishes with European and Asian elements enhanced by the liberal use of spices such as curry powder and the chilli in all its fiery avatars—was unveiled to me by the local chefs.
Expectedly, Maldivian cuisine strongly leans towards the use of fish, generally tuna that is eaten at almost every meal of the day; either boiled, fresh, smoked or sun-dried. Fish combined with onions, chillies, lemon juice, coconut and rice structures the essential diet. Almost all meals in The Maldives, even breakfast, are served with roshi which is a local bread made with flour, water, oil and salt, and cooked on a hot griddle.
And a tuna-stuffed masroshi was just what I started with as an appetiser that evening along with a main course that wowed me. A green tangy curry of tuna chunks with a mellifluous name of kandu kukulhu was introduced to me along with sides like a bowl of steamed white rice and a simple salad of tomatoes, onions and coriander. The curry was divine with each forkful bursting with a flavour that was neither Indian nor Sri Lankan, but rather like a Thai green curry to which a liberal splash of lime juice was added along with the fragrant lemon grass. Working perfectly with the rice, the kandu kukulhu was loaded with a ‘more-ish’ feeling that I had to resist in order to make space for the next course of the meal.
Now, totally opposite to the Indian style of dining, the Maldivians first eat rice with curry and then the plain roshi along with sambols, which form the ‘dry dish’ component of the meal. I was served two Maldivian sambols called mashuni and barabo mashuni, which were very different from their Sri Lankan counterparts in the spice (or should I say lack thereof) quotient. The basic mashuni is a wondrous concoction of flaked tuna that is combined with freshly grated coconut, onions, lime and green chilli. The barabo mashuni was equally scrumptious with the addition of boiled pumpkin bits that gave it a hint of sweetness and a creamier texture.
Thoroughly satiated with what I had just eaten, I literally waddled back to my ocean villa, ready for my next day’s adventure in Malé.

A Slice of Local Life
Perfect for a short day trip or even for an overnight stay, Malé offers the hard-core traveller a host of local experiences and sights that you may never have if you simply stay put at your luxurious island resort! With an area of less than six square kilometres and a population of about 150,000 people, Malé truly is one of the world’s smallest national capitals and one can be traversed in just a couple of hours.
My day trip to Malé had me first stop by the chaotic and colourful main market that was jam-packed with sellers vending everything from the local favourites like betel nut and large, freshly caught tuna fish to exotic fruit, vegetables and local sweets. Next it was a wander down the rather sandy Sultan Park in the center of the city and then for a glimpse of the president’s palace. Called Mulee Aage, the house is a neat and surprisingly un-fussy colonial-style bungalow situated midtown with bare minimal security details in sight. One can also visit the National Museum and the brand new golden-domed Grand Friday Mosque and also the historic, 17th century Hukuru Miskiiy also known as the Old Friday Mosque.
And it was here as I walked the narrow streets of Malé that I discovered a very important aspect of travel. I learned that sunny afternoon that there can be several versions of any country, just like I had seen in The Maldives. It all depends on how one looks at things. Do we view it from the often thickly veiled-gaze of a tourist or from the point of view of a true-blue traveller ready for all sorts of experiences? That’s a question worth asking ourselves.

All You Need is Love –Valentine’s Month Special
What could be more romantic than roses, bubbles and a stunning beachside romantic dinner under the stars? All this month of February, guests at the Mövenpick Resort Kuredhivaru can enjoy an exquisite dinner on the beach followed by romantic bed decoration and in-villa champagne breakfast the following day. The All You Need is Love package (USD 950++ per couple) also includes a private sunset cruise with champagne and canapés.


Fact File
Getting There 
The newly launched direct GoAir flights (www.goair.in) link New Delhi, Mumbai and Bengaluru with Malé’s Velana International Airport, all three in under three hours flying time. The visa to enter The Maldives is free and is given to everybody irrespective of nationality on arrival.

Stay
Mövenpick Resort Kuredhivaru Maldives, H. Agadhage 3rd floor Boduthakurefaanu Magu, Malé Maldives 20026.
Telephone: +960 6563000, E-mail: Resort.Kuredhivaru@movenpick.com
www. movenpick.com

(A differently edited version of this piece was first published in the February 2020 issue of The Week's Smart Life magazine)

JPG and I

A chance meeting with French fashion designer Jean Paul Gaultier proves to be a career defining moment for a young and reluctant fashion writer

By Raul Dias

Every time I hear the name Jean Paul Gaultier, a string of fond memories takes me right back to that supremely rainy September day in 2007. Out for our monthly mother and son lunch, mum and I had cosily settled into our corner table at Hornby’s Pavilion at Mumbai’s ITC Grand Central Hotel tucking into our fish and chips. All this, as the cacophony of the Ganesh Chaturthi celebrations was reaching its zenith outside.
Barely a few weeks into my stint at a leading daily’s entertainment supplement as the fashion correspondent—a role I had reluctantly and almost grudgingly accepted after the ‘official’ fashion writer had put in her papers—I was still coming to terms with my new beat and all its accoutrements. I was so raw and jejune that it took a sharp nudge from mum for me to realise that the man seated diagonally opposite us, relishing his order of vegetable stew and appams all by himself, was someone important. “That’s the famous French fashion designer Jean Paul Gaultier!” mum whispered conspiratorially.
A quick call to my editor back at the office confirmed that JPG (as he’s known as in the fashion world) was indeed supposed to be on a very private and discreet visit to Mumbai. He was being hosted by a socialite turned jewellery designer who was trying her best to keep the media miles away from her famous guest. Next day’s front-page lead story would be mine, I was guaranteed, if I could deliver a short interview with JPG. 
With my latent reporter’s instincts kicking into full gear, I launched my ‘attack’, literally ambushing the genial-looking man by thrusting my business card in front of his aquiline nose. “Ah, we share a name,” said JPG. “Not many know this, but my full name is Jean Paul Raoul Gaultier.” And just like that the constantly-smiling JPG acquiesced to an impromptu little interview that would go on to become the only one he ever gave on that particular trip of his to Mumbai.
Ever the lover of all things India, he told me that the Ganesh Chaturthi festival fascinated him. “I really wanted to see the colour and fervour for myself and I’m so glad to be here now. I have been fabric shopping like crazy here,” he said, adding that he was first touched by India’s beauty in the late 1970s which is when he first travelled here as a backpacker. “Whenever I think of doing something different, India is what inspires me to go ahead and play with my fantasies. The gypsies of Rajasthan are a great source of inspiration, so much so that my last collection had a male show-stopper draped in a shimmering sari.” 
As a parting shot, he let me into another unknown little factoid about a creation of his that has gone down the annals of fashion history over the decades. “Madonna was not the first person for whom I had designed that bra,” he said, referring to the now-legendary conical bra corset that JPG made for the singer’s Blond Ambition Tour way back in 1990. “As a child I had created a paper model of the conical bra for my teddy bear who wore it for quite a number of years. It was only in 1983 that I made a conical bra for my collection that Madonna happened to see and asked if I could make one for her. So, you see, Madonna wasn’t my inspiration at all!”


(A differently edited and padded-up version of this article appeared in the 2nd February 2020  issue of the Hindustan Times, India newspaper's Weekend supplement, on page II. https://m.hindustantimes.com/fashion-and-trends/newsmaker-jean-paul-gaultier-enfant-terrible-of-fashion-steps-off-the-ramp/story-FMyau6Bymm7RP0rxDF4SfK.html)

Hair Story

The supremely weird Avanos Hair Museum in Cappadocia, Turkey is the result of one man’s 40-year-long obsession with women’s hair from around the world.

By Raul Dias

Glaring at me with bloodshot eyes, Galip Körükçü makes it very clear that he isn’t too happy with my siesta-busting, mid-afternoon intrusion. I’m at Chez Galip, his famous pottery shop in the town of Avanos, some eight kilometres from Göreme, the historical center of Cappadocia in the heart Turkey. Avanos is well-known for its beautiful pottery, fashioned out of the red, mineral-rich clay that’s dredged from the bed of the nearby Kizilirmak River.
But that’s not what draws me to the modest little pottery shop. It’s what lies beneath, carefully hidden out of sight in its basement that has piqued my interest. The Avanos Hair Museum, a veritable ‘shrine’ dedicated to women’s hair is what the 63-year-old Galip has been painstakingly building up one lock at a time since 1979.
It’s only when I tell him that that’s also the year of my birth, does the Albert Einstein lookalike relent and allow me into his bizarre subterranean passion project. There is no entry fee for the museum, and everyone is welcome, provided they inform him in advance by telephone, he lets me know with a sardonic smile. I’m led down a flight of stone steps into a large cavernous tunnel that is entirely covered—from walls to ceiling—with pinned locks of hair in every length, texture and colour with a slip of paper affixed to each.
In the last 40 years, Galip has managed to collect an astounding 16,000 plus locks of hair that have been voluntarily left behind by women visitors from around the world. A table at the end of the tunnel even has a pair of scissors, duct tape, thumb tacks with a pen and some paper for women to write down their names and addresses on after snipping a few strands of their hair.
Galip tells me that it all started when a French lady who was learning pottery under him left behind a few strands of her hair as a sort of memento before she returned home. Hearing this story, over the years, women have been leaving behind a piece of their hair adding more heft to his rather hairy tale!
But that’s not all, every six months—at the beginning of June and December—the first visitor to the pottery shop is given the job of selecting 10 locks from the museum. These 10 ‘winners’ are then contacted by Galip and invited back to Avanos for an all-expenses paid week-long stay to learn pottery from him, if they so choose.
“So, why aren’t men invited to leave behind their hair?”, I ask him as a parting shot. He turns his stern glare upwards in the direction of my boring old buzzcut. I have my answer.   


Hair Apparent! 
Another hair museum, called Leila’s Hair Museum in Independence, Missouri, USA does things a tad differently. Established in 1986 by Leila Cohoon, a retired cosmetology teacher, the museum displays samples of hair art dating back to the 16th century. These range from wearable trinkets like neckpieces and brooches to paintings and medallions all made with strands of human hair. The practise of making art from hair reached its zenith in the Victorian era in England and France when people commissioned such art as a memento of a loved one.

(A differently edited version of this article appeared in the 2nd February 2020  issue of the Hindustan Times, India newspaper's Weekend supplement, on page III. https://www.hindustantimes.com/travel/visit-a-unique-hair-museum-and-leave-a-lock-in-turkey/story-VYEgis94khBMEaYN0LCvKP.html)