"Sorting of currants, grating of spices..." ~ Jane Eyre

Its an early autumn afternoon and the sun is shining as the wind directs leaves to blow against my windows, making a crackling noise before they fall back to the ground. I am sipping spicy Indian chai with a splash of milk and the apartment smells like fudge brownies. I made them for this evening - the Prince is cooking dinner for us and I decided to bring something sweet to eat as we dine in and watch the Giants go for another win. Ironically, I am listening to "Spring Dance" by Ravi Shankar even though it is the quintessential fall day. I am making a list of cupcakes to order from Crumbs bakery in the city since we are celebrating Halloween once again this year with Jack (who shall be Thomas the Tank Engine). I just called Bistro 33 to make dinner reservations for next week to celebrate the engagement of my cousin and her fiance; it is quite an exciting time and they shall marry in one year at the end of October. I think a fall wedding is perfect, and I wonder if the Prince and I will marry during the fall season one day at Onteora. I am slightly anxious to hear back from my cousin, Amy, who was married this past July, and gave birth to a daughter two days ago. The baby was premature and is 3 pounds, 7 ounces. I am sure she is in great care and will be just fine, but I do wish I was in San Francisco right now giving support to my cousin. She is being very positive, so I shall do the same and try not to worry. So, I will sip some more tea and distract myself for a bit with some cooking shows on PBS...


http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=erLZ-zW9Ti4 (George Harrison's sitar lesson with Ravi Shankar)

"He went to India..." ~ Jane Eyre

This past spring I was on Wall Street and walked into the Hermes store there to browse when I saw the most beautiful scarf in the world. Hermes introduced a line called "Indian Fantasies" this past year, and for those who know me well, that is where my fantasies now lay.

The silk scarf in reference is detailed here, though it comes in two colors, and the color pattern I loved is muted shades of lavender and melon that remind me of the colors of the sunsets in Goa that the Prince set me pictures of. There are others in the Indian series, filled with gorgeous images of elephants and henna patterns, but the pattern of this particular caught my eye. Of course it is not a pattern for the pocket squares- it is only available as a large, $300.00 scarf that shall never grace my body as an accessory. Even if I could afford such a luxury, I would perhaps not even wear it - I would frame it as a work of art because I love looking at it so much.

A couple of weeks ago the Prince and I were in the bookstore and I grabbed books on Goa from the travel section. We have talked of going there, and I have been doing daydreaming anytime I click on this website for a hotel there that looks nothing short of spectacular: http://www.tajhotels.com/Leisure/Fort%20Aguada%20Beac
h%20Resort,GOA/default.htm. Aside from Goa, I would love to see the rest of India with him - his India - and look forward to going one day. Though I admit that Goa is first on the list, for staying in an old Portuguese rampart and watching those sunsets with the Prince would be fantasy coming to life.

Dating an Indian man has been a blessing, for I have loved learning more about the culture and learning about the similarities between our Indian and Armenian backgrounds, whether its musical instruments or ceremonial practice rites or even types of food. Even Armenian researchers and cultural anthropologists have commented on the influences. http://www.tacentral.com/mythology.asp?story_no=3 The irony is that his kitchen smells like the smell I remember in the kitchen of my father's parents house, mainly with the faint scent of cumin lingering so deliciously below my nose.

Of course I grew up with Indian friends who introduced me to aspects of the culture even so early as elementary school. I remember two girls in particular showing of their amazing dancing skills and performing Bharatanatyam dance at cultural events hosted by my third grade teacher. Images of shiva and temples in the house were at that time foreign to me in a fascinating way. My first introduction to Indian food was late - high school - when J.Sarah and her parents invited me to her birthday dinner in the city and I tasted the goodness of samosas, nan, mango lassi, and tandoori chicken for the first time. Of course now I joke that those foods are for the lightweights, for there is nothing better I love than saag paneer and any kind of spicy vindaloo.

Life has gotten in the way of me undertaking the Indian cooking I have set out to do as a project, though soon I am confident that I will have more time for that. The main Indian supermarket in the metro New York area is called Patel Brothers: http://nymag.com/listings/
stores/patel_brothers01/. J.Sarah has one by her house, and the Prince and I have one by hours. Going in there for the first time was exciting. It was crowded and abuzz with families shopping, with huge barrels of Indian snacks being dug into and freezers filled with all different kinds of kulfi. J.Sarah helped me find the dal and garam masala that I needed. The Prince took me to the one closer to us in order to get ingredients for chat papri (www.epicureanescapdes.blogspot.com) and I was unable to keep my kulfi in its package before reaching the register; I felt like a young child snacking greedily while the parent was food shopping! I have been back there on my own since for the main purpose of stockpiling kulfi in my freezer. I tried fried lentil snacks the other day at the Prince's and need to head there next week to buy some bags of it for myself.

Next door to Patel Brothers is an Indian clothing store that has gorgeous saris in the window. As much as I would love that Hermes scarf, it is not as important to me as one day wearing a ceremonial sari. And donning that one day is not a fantasy at all. Rather, it is quite the absolute opposite in my heart and soul...