Travel and food for thought

Traveling in a big city all by yourself can be as terrifying as it can be mirthful. My short trip to NYC this time was kind of amusing. When I reached the city, I had to board two trains to get to my friend’s place. But I was hungry, so I stopped by an Iranian restaurant before continuing with the journey. After a stomach full of falafels and Iranian tea, I stepped out, and started smoking. There was a young lady sitting on a chair, and she commented on the colour of my cigarette, and said that she had never seen something like that before. I talked to her for a bit. Out of the blue, she asked me – have you ever got psychic reading done for yourself? I said – Nooo?!? Why? Without my permission, she just struck me – it seems there is trouble brewing in your mind, and someone you love, a man, is causing you that trouble. In my mind, I was like – hey lady! hold it! hold it! All I managed to mutter was – really? You think so? And smiled a lop-sided smile. She smiled back her lop-sided smile. It was funny. I told her that I was fine, and things keep happening, and left in haste.

I was wondering if girls my age, traveling with a sort of rugged look give that kind of idea to the people who claim to be psychic readers. I did not think so much of the incident, and had a good time at my friend’s. The next day, my friend and I were traveling by train. A weird guy with really weird blue and white checkered pants, a stupid hat, and funny eyes was staring at me. Having come from a big city myself, I have learned well to deal with such weirdos, and have acted upon the situations, my reactions ranging from ignoring completely to holding the pervert by his collar and slapping him tight. This time, I ignored him. After a couple of minutes he just came to me and started talking crap like – you read me my future, did you not? You are the same lady who had foreseen that something bad was going to happen to me. I was taken aback. I said – Sorry, you are misunderstanding me for someone else. Go away. He persisted. I got shit scared because the guy was really weird, and I just hoped that he did not have some dangerous weapon with him. My friend and I got out at the next halt and changed compartments.

Anyway, for listening to my weird stories from the big city, I will share with you the recipe for something called as falafel over rice, an awesome dish that you get on the road-side stalls of NY, and is a mix of Iranian, Mexican, Indian, etc. I love it, and could not find the recipe for it online, so kind of figured it out myself. Here goes:

Fied falafels – I did not make it from scratch. Just got the ready to cook packet. The falafels tasted fine, but were quite hard. Next time, I will prepare the entire thing by myself.

For rice (just warning that this is a crazy medley, and someone who appreciates minimalist cooking might get highly offended) – In heated oil, add dried red chilis, bay leaf. Once the smell starts emanating, add finely chopped onions. Once they turn translucent brown, add a little of ginger-garlic paste. After the paste has left its smell completely, add plentiful of finely chopped tomatoes. Once the tomatoes are mushy, add salt, red chili powder, followed by (here comes the crazy medley) pasta marinara sauce, a little bit if green chili sauce, a little bit of soy sauce. Add cooked rice to this, and mix well. Sprinkle some black pepper powder (ermmm…yes, that too). You I like the consistency of rice to be kind of dry. Once done, serve with lettuce and a layer of Mexican sour cream, or Tahini. Yummy!

Here are some images 🙂

ImageImageImageImageImage

Heehee 😀

Advertisements

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s