OMPHALOSKEPSIS

Wise Man Say... 08.05

2008-12-13T18:39:00.001-05:00

CDOs in a nutshell...

Untangling Credit Default Swaps

2008-10-21T17:26:00.001-04:00

Credit Default Swaps are sort of the nuclear power of the finance world. They have the potential to be a cheap source of enormous energy but when they go bust, you get this: the financial world's version of Chernobyl:

Untangling credit default swaps from Marketplace on Vimeo.

Uncorking CDOs

2008-10-21T17:20:00.001-04:00

Here is a second video from Marketplace that does a pretty good job of explaining the arcane world of Collateralized Debt Obligations or CDOs:

Crisis explainer: Uncorking CDOs from Marketplace on Vimeo.

The Credit Crisis Explained

2008-10-21T17:17:00.001-04:00

I came across these videos from Marketplace that are perhaps the clearest, simplest illustrations of the credit / financial conflagration that started on Wall Street and has now spread around the world. I never actually thought that there was any easy way to explain credit default swaps or CDOs but these guys do a pretty damn good job of it. This is the first video:

The Credit Crisis as an Atlantic Expedition

The credit crisis as Antarctic expedition from Marketplace on Vimeo.

Party like it's 1999

2008-09-30T23:01:00.001-04:00

Just so everyone remembers, exactly nine years ago is when this whole merry-go-around started:

FANNIE MAE EASES CREDIT TO AID MORTGAGE LENDING

In a move that could help increase home ownership rates among minorities and low-income consumers, the Fannie Mae Corporation is easing the credit requirements on loans that it will purchase from banks and other lenders.

- New York Times, Sept. 30, 1999.

And... we're back!

2008-09-30T22:48:00.001-04:00

God, I hate fucking roller coasters!

'Cause I'm Free... Free Fallin'

2008-09-29T23:01:00.001-04:00

Remember how a couple of weeks ago I mentioned that the Dow had dropped 500 points, making it the largest single day drop since 9/11? I had italicized it and everything. Well, that was... how do I put this delicately? ... a Sunday stroll in Central Park. On a spring afternoon.

BECAUSE TODAY THE DOW SHED 800 POINTS!

Or nearly 7%. Or about $1.2 trillion (yeah, that's with a 't' - again) in market capitalization.

Making it the largest single day drop since Black Monday - October 19, 1987 - when it dropped 23%.

That's it - I'm speechless.

Déjà Frikkin' Vu

2008-09-17T22:52:00.001-04:00

Another day, another bloodbath...

The Dow shed 450 points in the second largest sell-off this year. Considering that the largest occurred only two days ago, this is beginning to feel like a gang-bang! Once again it was financial stocks that got battered, in particular Morgan Stanley and Goldman Sachs, the last two independent investment banks left standing. MS dropped 28% from its Tuesday close and GS dropped 19%, leading some observers (ok, only me) to wonder - if their stocks took such a battering the day after they announced results in which they beat analysts' consensus estimates, what else is there left to say?

The fierce, and relentless, pounding has started to make dents in the MS edifice at least. It has started preliminary merger talks with Wachovia. Perhaps MS CEO John Mack wants to ahead of the game, a la Merrill Lynch, but I sure hope he knows what he's doing. Now that the market has sniffed MS blood in the water, if he has started something he cannot finish and these talks go nowhere, things could get very ugly for MS indeed.

Wise Man Say... 08.04

2008-09-17T02:21:00.001-04:00

This too shall pass.

- King Solomon

Update (9.29.08): Will it?

Hold the Horses?

2008-09-17T02:12:00.001-04:00

Just as we thought that the end of the world was upon us, comes news that it might have been temporarily postponed. After doing nothing to save Lehman Brothers from bankruptcy over the weekend, the Fed finally blinked and has decided to extend a 'bridge loan' of $85 billion to AIG, which otherwise would have filed bankruptcy on Wednesday (it had apparently already engaged the same bankruptcy lawyers as Lehman to handle their paperwork. If only Weil Gotshal & Manges were a public company. Now, there's a growth stock for you!). Under the terms of the deal, in return for the lifeline, the US government will get an 80% stake in the company. The line of credit is available for two years, will accrue interest at 3M LIBOR + 850 and will be repaid by the sale of AIG's assets. The loan is collateralized by all the assets of AIG and the US government has right to veto the payment of dividends to common and preferred shareholders. This basically means that shareholders of AIG will be 'severely diluted' (read wiped-out).

It also means that AIG will eventually be liquidated, likely sooner rather than later, just not at the fire sale prices that would have been the result of a bankruptcy. Considering that AIG has over $1 trillion in assets (again, with the 't'!), a bankruptcy slash fire sale would have made the Lehman situation look like a Thanksgiving sale at Macy's. Plus, with the agencies downgrading AIG by two (Moody's, Fitch) to three notches (S&P), it would be required to post an additional $13.3 billion of collateral, money it simply did not have.

In sum, AIG "could not be allowed to fail."

In other news, Barclays PLC has agreed to buy the US investment bank of Lehman Brothers for $2 billion and about 9,000 employees of the investment bank will join Barclays. Not included in the sale are any of "Lehman’s real estate, real-estate-backed securities, derivatives positions or over-the-counter trades." So, Barclays is basically buying the 'good' parts of Lehman and is getting almost exactly the same deal it wanted when it was negotiating a sale of Lehman over the weekend but Dick Fuld had put the kibosh on those plans.

But because Lehman, the holding company, is under bankruptcy protection, Barclays can pick and choose the parts of the company it wants and leave the rest to be liquidated by the bankruptcy court. So Lehman's filing bankruptcy got Barclays the deal Lehman wouldn't do to save itself.

Oh, the irony.

R.I.P - Richard Wright

2008-09-17T01:03:00.001-04:00

Richard Wright, one of the founding members of Pink Floyd along with Roger Waters, Nick Mason and Syd Barrett has gone to the Dark Side of the Moon.

And I am not frightened of dying, any time will do, I
Dont mind. why should I be frightened of dying?
Theres no reason for it, youve gotta go sometime.

- Richard Wright, The Great Gig in the Sky

R.I.P - David Foster Wallace

2008-09-17T00:40:00.001-04:00

David Foster Wallace - novelist, philosopher, journalist, humorist and one of the best wordsmiths to put pen to paper died on September 12, apparently having committed suicide by hanging himself.

In his fiction, Wallace was considered the heir of Thomas Pynchon and Don DeLillo and in his essays and observational pieces, he could be a combination of Malcolm Gladwell and Chuck Klosterman. He could write with equal felicity about tennis, porn or food. He was published in the New York Times Magazine, the New Yorker and in Playboy. His breakthrough novel, Infinite Jest was named one of Time magazine's 100 Best English Language Novels.

I first learnt of Wallace from a 2004 Gourmet magazine article about the ethical complexities of boiling alive lobsters for food. I remember thinking at the time, 'this is an odd article for a food magazine.' But that was the subversive genius of Wallace - he could write a philosophical screed on the "whole animal cruelty and eating issue" in a food magazine. I'm sure that when Gourmet commissioned him to write the article, they were expecting a standard issue travelogue , not a footnoted, annotated essay, which as Slate writer Troy Patterson puts it, "ranks as a must-read for anyone even thinking of having dinner."

Since we all think of having dinner at some point, here is the article. Hopefully, it will make us think also of David Foster Wallace.

Godspeed, and farewell.

Behold a Pale Horse

2008-09-15T23:18:00.001-04:00

Wow! What else can you say but, Wow! I thought that the Thursday-Sunday stretch this summer that gobbled up Bear Stearns was breathtaking, I thought the disappearance of Fannie Mae and Freddie Mac were once in a lifetime events but this... this is a whole new order of magnitude.

Two of the world's largest investment banks ceased to exist this weekend. And they weren't the 95-pound weaklings that Bear was either. They were behemoths. Lehman Brothers had 26,000 employees worldwide. Merrill Lynch had over 60,000. Between them they probably managed over a trillion dollars worth of assets (yes, that's trillion with a 't').

Unlike the Fed, which did not see fit to save the 3rd and 4th largest investment banks in the world, the markets decided that that the failures of Lehman and Merrill were sufficiently cataclysmic events to shed 505 points - the largest single-day drop in the Dow Jones index since September 17, 2001, the day the markets re-opened after 9/11.

Merrill, of course made out much better than Lehman and it's pre-emptive sale to Bank of America for $50 billion (or about $30/ share) is a huge premium to where it's stock closed today ($17.06/ share). And then there is Merrill's crown jewel, it's fabled "Thundering Herd" of brokers, 17,000 strong, who will likely get absorbed into B of A. But that still leaves another 40-45,000 Merrill employees, a lot of whom (some say as much - or, at least! - half) could end up getting laid off. Not to mention the thousands of B of A employees who will get laid off through no fault of theirs - because they were actually good at their jobs.

And as for Lehman? Well, Lehman doesn't have an All-Blacks of a brokerage team to offer, only $40 billion is toxic real estate debt, and so for the 26,000 Lehman employees, this is the end of the road.

As bad as things got today, they have the potential to get much worse. AIG, the largest insurer in the world as little as a year ago, is on the verge of collapse, an event that would be an even bigger shock to the system (if such a thing is even possible anymore), if for nothing else than the fact that it is part of the Dow Jones index. Its stock price closed at less than $5/ share today, down from $65/ share a year ago, and rumors are that the Fed has asked Goldman Sachs and JPMorgan Chase to lend $70 billion(!) to the insurer. Even if GS and JPM had that kind of money laying around, which they don't; or even if they could syndicate this debt, which they likely can't - is it really going to help at this stage? Or is this like sticking a finger in the dyke and hoping that the dam holds?

Then there is Washington Mutual, whose stock is trading at less than $3.32/ share and whom S&P and Moody's downgraded to junk status. WaMu looks like it is ripe for failure as well and oh, by the way - it only has $180 billion of exposure to mortgages and related loans.

And finally, consider this: The brokerage subsidiaries of Lehman Brothers were not included in the bankruptcy filings today and remain open for business for the time being. So, the liquidation of Lehman hasn't even started and the already the markets are down 500 points.

So, if you see four horsemen riding about, be afraid. Be very afraid.

Wise Man Say... 08.03

2008-08-20T21:01:00.001-04:00

There are 10 kinds of people in the world. Those who understand binary and those who don't.

- Anon

Technorati Tags: Random Thoughts

Wise Man Say... 08.02

2008-08-03T10:04:00.001-04:00

The Best Biryani in New York

2008-06-01T02:43:00.001-04:00

Omigod! I think I may just have eaten the best biryani there is in New York City! Sangam is that proverbial hole-in-the-wall restaurant (it only seats six) that serves fantastic food from a limited menu. For most such places, the hype usually overshadows the food, but for Sangam, believe the hype, man (or at least get there fast, before the hype does overshadow the food).

As for the hype, here's what you need to know. I actually found and ate every last grain of rice of the biryani that we got on our last visit, literally - including a few that had fallen off my plate and on the table (much to the disgust of my date). I gnawed at the lamb bones. I even ate the frikkin' raita! I thought of my Mom.

In addition to the biryani (of which there are lamb, chicken and vegetarian variants), Sangam makes a Nargisi roll to die for. My only grouch is that they use ground chicken instead of lamb or beef. And for dessert, there is phirni, which, no exaggeration, will take you back to Birhana Road in Kanpur.

They have some vegetarian dooh-dahs - samosas, veggie rolls and the like - which are probably quite good too (I have no idea, 'cause I didn't try them - see no reason to).

Here's the kicker - Two people can eat there for under 30 bucks! The biryanis go for $7 - $9 depending on what you get, the rolls are $8 for a pair and the phirni is $3. And... on weekends they're open till 2 in the morning!

Someone please wake me - this has got to be a dream.

Apparently Ishrat Ansari, one of the co-owners started the restaurant because his wife made the biryani for some friends, word spread and soon they were deluged with requests for more. I say, good call Ishrat.

Sangam, 190 Bleecker St., New York, NY 10012. Ph: 212.228.4648. Open 1PM - 11PM M-T; 1PM - 2AM F-S.

READY! AIM! ........... fire

2008-05-28T01:26:00.002-04:00

Given the financial turmoil that Wall Street and most of it's players are in, massive layoffs amongst the heavy hitters of the financial world was to be expected. Everyone on the Street knew that they were coming and in their own way, perhaps even prepared for it. However, the layoffs in this cycle have been different than in those of crises past.

In 1987 after the stock market crash, in 1998 in the aftermath of the LTCM and Russian default crisis and in 2001 after the bursting of the dot com bubble and 9/11, there was a huge amount of bloodletting on the streets of Downtown New York. But it was done en masse, publicly and in one fell swoop. Merill Lynch laid off close to 20,000 employees in 2001, over 10,000 in the fourth quarter alone, undone by the double whammy of the bursting of the tech bubble and Sept. 11.

However, the layoffs in this cycle are markedly different. They are almost being done on the down low, the corporate equivalent of the 3 AM knock on the door. The New York Times in an article called them 'stealth layoffs' and that 'the first clue that someone is gone can be e-mail messages that are returned to senders from a former colleague’s inactivated corporate address.' People who have worked at their companies for a decade or more have been, and are being, shown the door. And in the face of all the 'different opportunities being pursued' and 'different directions being gone in' and the amount of 'time being spent with the family' all around us, almost no public acknowledgement is been made of the people leaving.

Although Wall Street has announced the elimination of about 65,000 jobs in 2008, this time the layoffs have been spread out over weeks and months. As a result of this death by a thousand cuts system of layoffs there is an atmosphere of 'fear, paranoia and anger' amongst employees as they wonder who will be next or when the bells will toll for them. The constant and ever present of losing their jobs, of not knowing in the morning if they will be unemployed by the evening and most of all, not knowing when it will stop is taking its own heavy toll. One banker interviewed by the New York Times pretty much hit the nail on the head when he said that before the layoffs there was a sense of loyalty with the bank, a sense of pride, "that they got my back." But he said that that idea of loyalty had gone from most banks.

Most Wall Street financial institutions have extensive orientation programs for new employees and one of the things stressed is how the institution takes care of its own, even talking about its 'alumni networks' and the excellent business relations it has with its former employees. When new people join the firm, they introduced with great pomp and pride at the weekly meetings but when they leave (voluntarily or otherwise), absolutely no mention is made of it. It's as if the person never even existed.

Call me naive but the realization that an organization could be so mercenary in kicking to the curb employees it felt that it didn't need anymore was kind of shocking. And how is it that most of the financial institutions on Wall Street are behaving the same way in how they deal with layoffs? Like some sort of fashion fad, everyone seems to have gotten the same idea at the same time. I wonder how that works - do CEOs of major investment banks get together and develop a common firing strategy for the year? Bizarre.

And sad.

Still Standing... barely.

2008-05-22T22:34:00.002-04:00

Ah, it feels good to be back - I think. Professionally, the past 10 months have been a roller-coaster ride of epic proportions, and even now, when I am all puked out, it still goes on. In the last year Wall Street and the US economy have gone through a slide that is historic in scale. When I joined The Bank last year, business was at record highs. We were on our way to having a banner year and in the grip of some serious hubris - we could do no wrong! People were lining up to buy just about any product that the Street would sell.

And then, the bottom fell out. A combination of banks and financial institutions making loans to people who didn't even come close to qualifying for them; selling loans that were little more than lipstick on pigs and selling securities that promised to turn base metal to gold has led the Street to the brink of the greatest financial disaster since the Great Depression.

About a year later, nearly 20,000 people have lost their jobs on Wall Street alone, with no signs of the bleeding stopping anytime soon; the venerable Bear Stearns has ceased to exist, foundering from it's perch on the Fortune 500 in less than a week; and fear and paranoia stalks those of us still standing. Going to work every morning not knowing if one will have a job at the end of the day makes for a whole new definition of stress.

A few years from now, if not already, histories will be written about the 'Great Credit Crunch of 2007' and learned scholars will try to explain what happened, why and who did what to whom. It will all be very well researched and footnoted and annotated and will become part of business school syllabi. But, as Rose Bukater says of surviving the shipwreck at the beginning of Titanic, "the [actual] experience of it [is] somewhat less clinical."

An experience I would never want to relive.

Wise Man Say... 08.01

2008-05-21T10:55:00.002-04:00

"There are roughly three New Yorks. There is, first, the New York of the man or woman who was born there, who takes the city for granted and accepts its size, its turbulence as natural and inevitable. Second, there is the New York of the commuter--the city that is devoured by locusts each day and spat out each night.

Third, there is New York of the person who was born somewhere else and came to New York in quest of something... Commuters give the city its tidal restlessness, natives give it solidity and continuity, but the settlers give it passion."

E.B. White, 'Here is New York'*

*White, E.B. (1949), 'Here is New York', Harper & Brothers, New York, NY, pp 53-54. Reprinted: 2000, Little Bookworm, New York, NY

Fire!

2008-05-21T10:36:00.004-04:00

The other day, at my favorite bookshop in the Village, the fire alarm went off.

In the closed confines of the bookstore, the shrieking of the alarm was even louder than usual - deafening, for once, was not an exggeration. A few minutes later the fire trucks arrived, sirens wailing, to add to the cacophony. In trooped five of New York's brvaest, in full combat gear. The owner/ manager/ person in-charge of the shop told them it was a false alarm, they checked that everything was alright, switched off the alarm and went back.

No one left the building, no one panicked, no one stopped talking except to assert, with the absolute certainty that only New Yorkers have, that it was a false alarm, heck - no one even stopped browsing! The sales clerks continued to ring up sales and other than the approx. 6,000 db sound level inside the store and men in red hats and axes standing around the entrance, it was as if it was business as usual. Come to think of it, it was business as usual. Through all the brouhaha, the people in the bookstore reacted - by not reacting at all!

Only in New York, folks, only in New York!

Wise Man Say... 07.03

2007-08-06T01:52:00.000-04:00

He thinks it's a halo but it's just a swollen head
Anon.

It's a Dog's Life

2007-08-05T00:23:00.000-04:00

For a good part of my life growing up in India, we had a dog. I love dogs and ever since coming to the US I have always wanted one, preferably a Huskie or a Samoyed. Of course it is not at all in the realm of practical feasibility for me to get a dog - for one, I live in an apartment and not a house with 'grounds' for the dog to gambol in and for another, I am gone 14-16 hours a day. A cat would be fine with that kind of alone time, but a dog? - it would destroy the apartment. A dog walker or doggie day-care is out because, after all, I wouldn't want my dog to be raised by strangers (what kind of father do you think I am?!).

But now, help is at hand! FlexPetz, a doggie rental service (or as they put it, "a shared dog ownership concept"), starting this fall will let you reserve quality time with a dog of your choosing. Rental, err, shared ownership times can vary from a few hours to a number of days. And if you are not only too inept to own a dog but are also too lazy to schlep it from the FlexPetz store, they will bring it to you!

FlexPetz dogs are all rescue dogs, are obedience trained, eat only organic dog food and come with GPS tracking devices on their collars "in the event that a FLEXPETZ dog and a member become separated" (translation - if you kidnap one of the dogs, they are going to hunt you down like a, well, dog!).

Only in New York, kids, only in New York.

Pottered Out

2007-07-19T23:06:00.000-04:00

A dear friend of mine told me yesterday that she was in the throes of Potter-mania brought on, of all things, by a visit to Hong Kong (don't ask!). She is apparently plowing through the books at the rate of over one a day, whilst simultaneously watching the movies. Since the next, and last, book of the series will be released in just about an hour and the world at large will be in throes of Potter-mania, this is my "Stop the world and I'll get off" moment. For you see, I am not a fan. 

J. K. Rowling is a wonderful author and she has a created an universe as rich and detailed in its mythology and history as Middle Earth. And the analogy between Frodo and Harry are also fairly obvious. Ironically, the richness of the rendering of Harry's world is the primary reason why I am not a Harry Potter fan. 

I read the first few Harry Potter books (through Goblet of Fire - I think the fourth in the series) and here's the truth (and if anyone ever quotes me on this, I will flat out deny it with a straight face):  

The fourth book scared the bejesus out of me. 

There, I said it. The fault, dear Brutus, lies not with the stars but with me. You see, when I started the series I was expecting a mix of Enid Blyton and Hardy Boys with maybe a little Bewitched thrown in. And the first two books were like that - you had Hogwarts instead of Mallory Towers, quidditch instead of lacrosse and the weird jelly beans instead of the tuck box. The whole Voldermort angle was the Hardy Boys part (in a Case Files sort of way).

But then the books started becoming darker and more serious and by the end of Goblet of Fire someone had lost their life and it was not fun and games anymore. I was disturbed and yes, scared at the ending of Goblets of Fire. This, in my mind, was not a book for children.

Yes, I know that the growing seriousness of each subsequent book is a progression - planned - and a reflection of an audience growing with each book and as such, beautifully written. But still, for reasons that I can't quite explain rationally, I found the books, especially the fourth one, rather disturbing (by design?).

Will the epic of Harry Potter be regarded one day on par with the epic of Frodo Braggins as a literary endeavor? Probably. In fact, I think it is already happening judging by the gushing review each new book receives. And the good news, at least from my perspective, is that in a few hours I will know - without having read the book - how it all ends.

And once I know for sure that Harry - and his gang - lives and Voldermort dies, maybe I'll read the other three books. For now, I am just going to cower under the bed.

Water, water everywhere?

2007-07-17T23:29:00.000-04:00

I have just had a rather interesting, and instructive, weekend. First, on Saturday, I had a super frustrating meeting with the developers of this condo I am buying during which they tried to explain to me why, yet again, the closing would be delayed for two months. But that's a story for another time.

I came home from the meeting with the builder to an announcement on my building's PA system saying that the water had been shut off. Apparently, some idiot municipal worker doing some repairs had ruptured the city's water mains. As a result, all of Jersey City where I live and neighboring Hoboken and Union City had no water for about 30 hours starting Saturday forenoon through Sunday evening. Then on Sunday evening, just as the water came back on - brackish and blood red, lightning struck the transformers of my building complex and the power went out - for something like four hours.

Why was this interesting, let alone instructive? Because I was so completely and utterly unprepared for it!

In the five plus years that I have been in the US I have never been in a situation where there was a water outage (one time in Ithaca, the water pipes in my apartment froze but the landlord was able to crank the boiler to get it working pretty quickly). Not only did I not have any means to store water, the thought had never occurred to me. I had a couple of bottles of Gatorade and a bottle of Blue Moon beer in the house but that was it for the aqua supply, and since at that point I didn't know how long the outage would last I didn't want to use them for anything but drinking. I went to the store to get more water but it seems that while I was fighting with the builder of my condo, people had been making a run on water.

Then things began to shut down - restaurants and coffee shops first, the mall next and a few hours into the outage, it was like a curfew. So now I couldn't cook or wash. I suddenly felt really thirsty. I immediately instituted a "if it's yellow, let it mellow..." policy for the loo and after a dinner of bread and tuna, went to bed. The next afternoon, when the water finally came back on, I had perhaps one of the more satisfying craps of my life!

Back home in India, we got municipal water twice a day, two hours at a time sort of like a doctor's prescription. We had buckets and bottles, pumps and filters and three storage tanks - one on the roof, one sunk into our garden and one above the kitchen sink. Our daily schedules revolved around the availability of water - you were 'strongly' encouraged to do any bathing, washing or shitting between the hours of seven and nine. If you missed the morning window, then you were done for twelve hours. But we were prepared for any water emergency. If we didn't have water in my home in Delhi for 30 hours, I don't think anyone but my Mom would have even noticed (and I am not being sexist here - Mom headed the water police at home. Fact of life.)

It's the same story with electricity - back home we have candles and lanterns, inverters and generators, hand held fans and chiks on the windows. And for most of the summer load-shedding, there is a schedule and we know how long the outage will last.

Me? I sat in near total darkness for four hours. The only candle I have is in the bathroom where it performs more of a... um... odor removal role (and after 30 hours of mellowing, it had its work cut out too!) Everything in my apartment switched off - the computers, fridge, oven, microwaves, TV. The elevators had stopped working so my option, if i wanted to leave the building was to walk down 27 floors. So for the second night in a row, I had bread and canned tuna for dinner. But this time I cracked the bottle of Blue Moon.

Yippee-Ki-Yay Motherf*****!

2007-07-08T16:51:00.000-04:00

I am a little late to this party but over the weekend I saw "Live Free or Die Hard" and all I can say is ... John McClane is back, baby! Or as John himself would say, "Yippee-Ki-Yay Mother..." (This latest movie is PG-13 after all).

Coming almost 20 years after the first 'Die Hard', this one continues in the tradition that made Die Hard perhaps the greatest action movie franchise ever. Filled with spectacular car chases, explosions and even a death match with a female martial arts expert, Live Free or Die Hard does it old school. Not for it the computer generated CGI crap - the stunts are mind-blowing because they are real, including the money shot of a police cruiser climbing up a toll booth to crash into a helicopter.

John McClane himself is probably the last of the old school action heroes, cut in the mold of Clint Eastwood or Gary Cooper. Reluctant, surly, a loner, John McClane does not want to get involved, he does not want to save the world, but hey, it's a dirty job and someone's got to do it.

If you are one of the few who hasn't seen the movie yet, do it pronto. As Guyznite explain so succinctly in this brilliant video:

We know what the basic gist is
There ain’t no Allen and it’s not Christmas
We don’t know but we’re pretty sure that
John McClane kicks assssss!

"Wise Men Fish Here"

2007-05-30T00:17:00.000-04:00

That sign, painted by John Held Jr., the famed illustrator of Life magazine covers and New Yorker cartoons, hung outside the Gotham Book Mart - a store opened by Frances Steloff in 1920 after having sold books from her window under another sign: "Interesting Books Selected Myself."

Over the next nearly nine decades, that sign was to become as much a New York landmark as Gotham Book Mart, a beacon to book lovers everywhere. Over it's lifetime, the store counted amongst its customers, W. H Auden, James Joyce, Norman Mailer, Anaïs Nin, J. D. Salinger, and William Saroyan. Allan Ginsberg and LeRoi Jones worked there and Tennessee Williams apparently didn't even last a day because he couldn't wrap packages!

Frances Steloff, who lived to be a 101, was a stalwart defender of writers' freedoms, selling the 'obscene' works of D. H. Lawrence and Henry Miller when they were banned in the US. She was one of the founders of the James Joyce Society and the Finnegan's Wake Society, which had it's home in the Gotham Book Mart.

The store, famous for its vast collection, was a bibliophile's dream come true. Used and new books all jostled for space and the Gotham Book Mart's collection of rare and out of print books, literary journals, pamphlets and monographs and first editions and signed copies was legendary. For all its intimidating presence of wall to wall books, Gotham Book Mart was a friendly and inviting place to be. The Associated Press described it as an "American monument", "as close to heaven as a book lover will get" and "a sort of Carnegie Hall of modern literature."

I started going to the Gotham Book Mart in the summer of 2004, the year that I moved to the City and the year that the store moved into what would be its final home on 46th Street. It was on my way to office and I got into the habit of peeking in for a quick browse on my way to or from work. I always felt welcome there even though I bought something maybe one time out of ten. Unfortunately, after I moved to my present job in Downtown, those visits became far and few in between.

Last week, Gotham Book Mart downed its shutters for the last time. The store was nearly half-a-million dollars in arrears on it's rent and its entire inventory was auctioned off by court order. The tickets to the auction were $1,000 apiece and in a "Only in New York baby, only in New York" moment, the New York Times (subscription required) reported that the line stretched around the block (and it's an avenue block!). In the end, the landlord's bid of $400,000 for entire inventory was the highest, although John Held's painted sign was apparently not part of the auction lot.

Thus ends the story of Gotham Book Mart, "not with a bang but with a whimper." The following lines are from one of the cheesiest movies ever but since You've Got Mail was at least peripherally about a book store and about New York, here goes:

"People are always telling you that change is a good thing. But all they're really saying is that something you did not want to happen, at all, has happened...

My [book] store is closing this week... And in a week it will be something really depressing... Soon it'll be just a memory. In fact, someone... will probably think that it's a tribute to the City, the way it keeps changing on you, or the way you can never count on it, or something.

But the truth is, I am heartbroken."

Gotham Book Mart, R. I. P.

The German Soldiers Crossed the Rhine

2007-04-17T23:47:00.000-04:00

A couple of days ago, this purported German Army training video was broadcast on German TV and has since then has ricocheted around the internet.*

In the video, an instructor, teaching his soldiers how to use a machine gun tells them:

"You are in the Bronx. A black van is stopping in front of you. Three African-Americans are getting out, and they are insulting your mother in the worst ways. ... Act."

The chattering classes worldwide have, predictably, gone wild and there is a lot of loud huffing and puffing about racism and about training practices in the German Army and if this is the harbinger of the fourth Reich. Of course, the fact that it is the German Army makes people doubly nervous. And while there are a lot of serious concerns that need to be raised, no doubt and several questions that the Bundeswehr needs to answer, here in New York it has caused more amusement than anything else.

But for those Soldaten of the Bundeswehr who might be harboring dreams of goose-stepping through the Bronx, let the following exchange between Rick and the Gestapo officer from the movie Casablanca serve as a fair warning:

Major Strasser: Are you one of those people who cannot imagine the Germans in their beloved Paris?
Rick: It's not particularly my beloved Paris.
Heinz: Can you imagine us in London?
Rick: When you get there, ask me!
Captain Renault: Hmmh! Diplomatist!
Major Strasser: How about New York?
Rick: Well there are certain sections of New York, Major, that I wouldn't advise you to try to invade.
(Emphasis mine)

*It now seems that the video is not of official German Army training at all but a bunch of people playing dress-up. Nonetheless, if you know what's good for you, stay the hell out of the Bronx. Or any other part of New York City for that matter!

"Soul in Yo Bowl"

2007-03-20T22:24:00.000-04:00

I make a good Jambalaya. I know this because most of the friends who have eaten it have lived to tell the tale. Some have even returned for seconds. And responding to a groundswell of popular demand, and for the greater common good, I feel that it is time that I should share my recipe for a Jambalaya. Vox Populi; Vox Dei and all that sort of thing, don't you know.

Ok, so the popular demand consisted of just one person but if you saw this populus, you'd know that she was all Dei.

Anyway, Jambalaya...

Jambalaya is a Cajun-Creole dish similar, in some ways to a Spanish paella or the Indian pulao (as opposed to the biryani). It originated in the swamps and badlands of Louisiana and according to Wikipedia, the Jambalaya dates back to at least 1872. Jambalaya can be made with beef, pork, chicken, duck, shrimp, oysters, crayfish, sausage, or any combination thereof or indeed from any other meat as well. If you want to throw in some 'gator in your Jambalaya, go right ahead! I make mine with a combination of chicken, Andouille sausage, Chorizo and shrimp.

But we are getting ahead of ourselves. You have to start at the very beginning, which as Maria von Trapp assures us, is a very good place to start.

And in the beginning, there is the trinity - equal parts onion, celery and bell peppers, chopped into a fine dice (about a half-cup each). The traditional trinity calls for green bell peppers but I find that just a tad too bitter and use red bell peppers instead (which also adds to the color of the dish, of course). I also throw in a few Jalapeño and/or Serrano peppers to add a little kick, but that is completely a matter of taste. The trinity should be sautéed in a dutch oven or any deep heavy pan , till the onions are transparent but not brown (deep so it can accommodate the rice and the meats without overflowing and heavy so that it retains heat. Do not use a non-stick pan, the reason for which will become clear in a minute). I prefer to use a combination of rendered bacon (pork fat rules!) and vegetable oil as the cooking medium but in these heart healthy times, use whatever oil you're comfortable with - vegetable, canola, peanut, olive; any one will do with two exceptions - extra virgin olive oil and mustard oil - because they have powerful aromas that will overwhelm the dish.

Season aggressively with crushed black pepper, cayenne pepper and Creole seasoning. If you are up to making your own Creole seasoning, here is a great basic recipe, but one can also buy this stuff pre-mixed and some of it is actually edible!

To the sautéing trinity, add the chicken and the sausages, each cut to about half-inch cubes/ slices/ dice - whatever floats your boat really. They should just be the approximate same size. It helps to use just one cut of chicken for e.g breasts (what can I say - I am a breast man!). Figure on using one chicken breast for two people. Season again with the Creole seasoning and sauté on medium heat till the chicken is browned evenly, some of the fat has rendered off the sausages and there is a good bit of 'frond' - the brown sticky bits at the bottom of the pan. The frond is critical to develop the brown color of the Jambalaya and to intensify the flavor; it is virtually impossible to develop a good frond in a non-stick pan. Enameled cast-iron is best, stainless steel is also ok, even hard anodized cookware will work in a pinch.

When the chicken has browned, add the rice (figure about a third to a half-cup per person - long grain rice works best, parboiled rice is fine) and move it around till the grains become sort of translucent. Add a couple of cloves of crushed garlic, move it around till it becomes fragrant and immediately add the cooking liquid for the rice (it happens fast in a hot pan - 30-45 secs - so watch out otherwise the garlic will burn). I like chicken stock but if you prefer fish/vegetable/ beef stock, that's fine. You can use water if you absolutely must but, be warned, it will dilute the flavors of the Jambalaya. You will need more liquid than if you were just cooking rice, so depending upon the type of rice grains you chose, you will need 2-2.5 times liquid. Use the liquid to also de-glaze the pot - scraping around the bottom to release all the frond and color and flavor contained therein.

Cook the rice as you normally would and about five minutes before the rice is done, add the shrimps (about a half-cup per) and some diced scallions. Be careful not to overcook the shrimp - when they turn pink they are done. Adjust seasonings while the Jambalaya is still liquidy and when the rice is done, so is the Jambalaya.

Eat. Enjoy.

Movin' On

2007-03-07T01:24:00.000-05:00

So after a year at one bank and a year and a half at another - while actually working for the same firm all the time - I'm finally employed by a bank! Third time's the charm, eh? (And if you find all this moving about confusing, think of me - I lived through it!)

I am absolutely ecstatic about this new job! My new company sits at the very top of the investment banking food-chain, they (aggressively) recruited me (which does wonders for any self-esteem issues, believe me!), the money is better than good and I work on Wall Street (no, actually on Wall Street!). This is the culmination of a dream.

But... This is my fourth job in a relatively short career of less than a decade. To put it in perspective, I have already had more jobs than both my parents have had in their entire working lives of almost 70 years, taken together. I wonder if this is only me or are we as a generation more restless and less easily satisfied? One really close friend of mine went all the way from India to Australia and back looking for professional satisfaction; another is so sick of her job and so stricken with wanderlust that she would rather work a low-end job on a cruise ship than continue to do what she is doing; a third prefers the 'publish or perish' rigors of academia to her former career as a high profile corporate consultant.

My best friend in the world went from being a town planner to a software salesman to a tech-support guy to a line-cook to a journalist to a blogger. And he is the most blissfully happy, most content man I know. Which only goes to show...

Well, I don't know what it goes to show. Maybe that the perfect job or the perfect career does exist and you just have to keep looking till you find it.

Anyway... I have a new job and couldn't be more kicked about it! I just hope that this will be home for a long time. If not, well then... watch this space.

Wise Man Say... 07.02

2007-02-13T00:07:00.000-05:00

Recharge your Batteries

2007-02-09T00:23:00.000-05:00

Check out these rather nifty NiMH rechargeable batteries from USBCell that have built in USB hubs allowing them to be charged through a computer rather than a conventional charger. They come in AA size and have a 1300 mah rating.

These batteries make perfect sense for someone like me who does a lot of photography and a lot of traveling. I can already charge my BlackBerry and my cell-phone through my laptop and anything that allows me to ditch another charger is a bit of all right in my book.

The downside is that one might have to carry a portable USB hub around, but most people I know do that anyway and now you can think of it also as a universal charger!

I got four of these babies a couple of weeks ago and so far they’re doing just fine. The batteries, at $19.95 a pair at Adorama, are slightly more expensive than conventional rechargeable batteries but then you don't have to buy a charger so they actually save you money. They take about 5 hours to charge for the first time but charge rapidly for subsequent uses. In my completely unscientific tests (on a Canon Elan-7E SLR and a Canon 580EX flash unit) lasted about as long and performed about as well as regular NiMH batteries.

Pictured: USBCell AA 1300mah NiMH Rechargable Batteries

The Art of the Omelette

2007-02-08T22:03:00.000-05:00

In my Pantheon of superstar foods, the omelette has pride of place in the front row. It can be street food in India, an elegant supper at a French bistro, a hearty lunch in Spain and stuffed to overflowing at an American brunch. It can be eaten for breakfast, lunch or dinner and when you need something to soak up the excesses of a night on the town, the omelette can hang right in there with the fried chicken and the cold pizza.

According to the Larousse Gastronomique (Robuchon, J., et al (ed), 2001, Clarkson Potter, New York, P.808), "the word [omelette] comes from the French "lamelle" (thin strip) because of its flat shape; previously it was known as alumelle and then alumette, and finally amelette." (So the Indian pronunciation is actually pretty close to the French original!) The French have been making omelettes since the 16th century and the pinnacle of their painstaking effort is the classic recipe known as L'Omelette aux Champignons - Omelette stuffed with Mushrooms.

Making a French omelette is a lot like making tea or making rice. It is very easy to make but very difficult to make well. And just like tea or rice, when an omelette is good it is sublime, when it’s bad, there are few worse abominations on the face of the planet.

I know because I had the misfortune of eating a particularly bad version a couple of days ago, which is what prompted this post. Here are a few critical things to keep in mind when making an omelette. Follow these simple rules of thumb and you will have French bistro quality omelettes - guaranteed.

First, the stuffing. If the omelette is to have a stuffing, make sure you cook it before you make the omelette. The residual heat of the omelette will reheat the stuffing but if the omelette gets cold while you're making the stuffing, it's all over. For a mushroom stuffing, stick to the middle of the road - you don't want white button mushrooms which are pretty flavorless and get soggy but you don't want shitakes either which will overwhelm the flavor of the eggs. Creminis, in my experience, work best - they will stand up to the eggs with just enough earthy flavors to compliment them. Salt the mushrooms while they are sautéing to draw out the water - you don't want that moisture running out when the stuffing is in the omelette!

Now for the main event - L'Omelette!

Make sure that the eggs are at room temperature. Eggs straight out of the fridge tend to coagulate and don't mix as well when beaten, leading to dense and heavy omelettes.

Speaking of beating, the eggs should get a thorough one. Beat the eggs for at least 10 minutes. Don't be shy (or lazy) - I've gone so far as to use a mixer on the eggs but if you have any experience in hand mixing a latte, you can do this with a fork. The more air you can incorporate into the eggs the lighter and fluffier they will be.

This one is optional, but instead of just adding milk, try adding a teaspoon or so of cream to the proceedings too (for three eggs. Adjust the amount of cream for fewer or more eggs). Also add a teaspoon or so or water.

This one is not optional - use butter as a cooking medium! Not vegetable oil, not olive oil (not even the good stuff) - butter. Say it with me - butter!

Cook the omelette slow and low. Well, ok - medium to medium low. But you don't want to crank the heat 'cause that will only burn the outside before the omelette cooks through.

This leads us to – non-stick skillets. This is one of the very few recipes where I would recommend using a non-stick skillet over a regular one. Since you don't need to fire up the afterburners, the safety issues with non-stick pans can be overlooked. You can slide the omelette off more easily, the calorie counters can use a little less butter and since non-stick pans generally don't sear very well, you get a nice even golden color on the omelette.

And finally, do not cook the omelette all the way through in the pan. Residual cooking will continue after you take the eggs off the heat and you must account for this. If the eggs are completely cooked in the pan, the by the time they get to the table, they will be overdone, dry and stringy. The trick is to take the skillet off the heat when the edges of the omelette have set but the center is still slightly moist and runny. Fold in the stuffing, thus giving that a little time to warm up too. Plate.

Now, there's a good egg, what!

Republic Day - A "Celebration"

2007-01-26T19:42:00.000-05:00

As we celebrate the 57^th anniversary of the formation of the Indian Republic, I cannot help but think that the tradition of exhibiting India's military might on Republic Day has gotten old. When the tradition first started we had just become independent and we were weak and certainly undeveloped. At such a time to project strength through a display of military prowess perhaps made sense, just in case someone else got the same idea the Brits had. The USSR, equally perceived as weak and impoverished after the Second World War, had used the massive displays in the Red Square to show the world that they were a Superpower and we could do the same thing.

Now, 50-odd years later, we are ready to sit down at the main table, and have been for a while. We are one of the world's top 5 economies with the world's second highest GDP growth rate. We are a solid democracy and have been for 99.97% of our history as an independent nation. We are at the forefront of the latest technological revolution and the 21^st century is being talked about, around the globe, as the Indian century just as the 20^th was the American century. When we talk, the world listens. We don’t need a show of our military power for the world to take us seriously.

Given these facts, that we continue traditions that are part Soviet-style demonstrations of our military machine and part Colonial hangover of the Queen's (King's) birthday honors list (all those Padma awards) are anachronistic at best and indicative of our continuing insecurity at worst. I mean, if the military parade on Republic Day is meant for a foreign audience, then a) they are more focused on our economic prowess and b) those who would do us harm presumably have some estimate of our military power (if they don't, then it makes even less sense to display it in public!).

If, on the other hand, the parade is primarily for domestic consumption, then shouldn't the cultural aspects of the parade – the folk dances, the floats, the school bands - be given more prominence? It is, at the end of the day, a celebration of the Republic and shouldn’t celebrations be, I don't know - fun?! What is more celebratory – row upon row of grim faced soldiers and the latest missile technology marching past or the dancing and color and the general cheerfulness that accompanies the latter half of the Republic Day parade in Delhi?

Not that I have anything against military parades per se. If the same military parade that is held on January 26 is held instead on December 16, it would not only be contextual, but also topical. Why December 16, you ask? Because that, almost forgotten, day is Vijay Diwas – the anniversary of the surrender of the Pakistan Army in 1971 and the creation of Bangladesh (incidentally, the largest surrender of any armed force, ever). Should not the military showcase its strength and give its gallantry awards on the day of India’s greatest military victory as a free nation?

After all, the Republic or its independence was not won by force of arms, was it? In fact, we pride ourselves for having won our independence by doing the exact opposite, i.e. by eschewing a force of arms - perhaps the only colony in the history of the world to do so! Why then isn't the peaceful overthrow of the (then) world's greatest colonial power and the cohesive existence, as a nation, of the world's most ethnically and linguistically diverse polity the primary focus of all our national day (Independence Day and Republic Day) celebrations?

Wise Man Say... 07.01

2007-01-21T22:52:00.000-05:00

"My favorite animal is steak."
-Frank Lebowitz

New York Top Ten: Food - Part Deaux!

2007-01-21T16:44:00.000-05:00

Here is the second half of my New York food list Once again, in no particular order, I give you:

The Tasting Menu at Babbo: I’m sure there are those that think Babbo (110 Waverly Pl., New York, NY 10011) is not the best Italian restaurant in the city, but I am damned if I can find even one of them. Babbo is the flagship restaurant of Chef Mario Batali – he of the famous shorts and orange crocs – and traces its pedigree to the now almost mythical, Po restaurant on Bleeker St., where Mr. Batali perfected his craft. And while he owns numerous other fine establishments in the neighborhood such as Otto, Del Posto, Esca and Lupo, it is obvious that Mr. Batali’s heart is really at Babbo. If, on the day that you dine there, Mr. Batali is in the kitchen, consider yourself twice blessed. For Babbo doesn’t so much surpass one’s expectations as shatter them and leave them lying in the dust. From the fennel pollen (!) in the goat cheese tortellini to the hot chili flakes in the linguine with clams to the guinea hen with pumpkin to the ricotta based cheesecakes, there is absolutely no shortage of wonderful surprises at Babbo. Even the choice of music – 70s rock for the most part – is surprising.

And the tasting menu is where the creative brilliance of Mr. Batali and his staff really peak. A roster of food and wine pairing that is in a word, sublime. There are things like ducks and venison and pink peppercorn honey on that tasting menu! If you have to visit only one restaurant in New York, this should be your destination.

Coq Au Vin at Tout Va Bien: Tout Va Bien (311 W. 51st St., New York, NY 10019) has been in its present location for more than half a century and it that time it has become a favorite of French sailors in town for Fleet Week. So you know that they must be doing something right. It is the classic bistro – loud and informal, especially when the sailors are in town. The, very good, house wine can be ordered by the pitcher as can the sangria, the wait-staff is friendly yet knowledgeable and the tablecloths have red and white checks. In short – a happy place. Their take their coq au vin very seriously though and most of the times it is cooked to perfection – the chicken just barely hanging on to the bone and the sauce thick with the aroma of the wine it was cooked in. Equally good is the bouillabaisse (available only on Fridays). It is also one of their most popular dishes so if you get there late at night or when the theater crush is the heaviest, you order it at your own risk. But one worth taking as most of the time they get it right.

Chinese at Grand Sichuan International and Wu Liang Ye: Having grown up on “Indian Chinese” as perfected by the Tibetan cooks in Delhi and the Tangra chefs in Calcutta, the transition to the more authentic Chinese food available in the city was a bit difficult in that everything tasted slightly bland. Then I discovered, almost simultaneously, Grand Sichuan International (745 9^th Avenue, New York, NY 10019) and Wu Liang Ye (338 Lexington Avenue, New York, NY 10016). Both of them specialize in the Sichuan style of cooking and the food at both places is the make-your-eyes-water-and-your-nose-run kind of spicy. Which is all to the good I say. Although both places make half-hearted stabs at Cantonese cuisine, if you stick to their core competence when ordering, you won’t be sorry. Either the green tea, which is gratis, or a Coors light will go a long way in assuaging your protesting innards. Grand Sichuan even features freshly slaughtered chicken and it makes everything that it is put in better. For spicy Chinese food, especially on a night when serious drinking is contemplated, there really is no better place than one of these temples to the chili-pepper.

Brunch: A meal that I discovered after moving to the US, brunch is already one of my favorite American food traditions. Not least because after an, um... busy Friday night, steaks and eggs in the morning with a Bloody Mary really hits the spot, if you know what I mean. In a place like New York, there are literally zillions of places where you can eat brunch of course but two of my favorites are Joshua Tree (366 West 46^th St, New York, NY 10036) and Candela (116 East 16^th Street, New York, NY 10003). Joshua Tree is open till 4 AM Thursday through Sunday and till 2AM Monday to Wednesday so it’s a one stop shop to get both the hangover and the cure! It serves brunch on Saturday and Sunday till 4PM and for my money makes the second best eggs Benedict ever (other than my own, of course!).

Lit up almost entirely by a multitude of candles and with a number of nooks and crannies where people who don’t want to be disturbed can retreat, Candela is a rather beautiful restaurant near Union Square. If there were such a thing as a romantic brunch, this is where you would bring your date (and be reasonably assured of a happy ending, if you know what I mean). And the food is good too. The brunch menu (served only on Sundays) has a seriously good frittata stuffed with sausage and spinach and a banana French toast that hits just the right spot. They have burgers too which, while they are not the best in the world, come on a toasted brioche bread that soaks up the juices from the patty without turning into a soggy mess. And for 20 bucks, you get all the Mimosas and Bloody Marys you can drink. What could be a better way to send a Sunday afternoon?

Cheesecakes: And finally, dessert. The subject of cheesecakes is another one of those issues that is sharply divisive and on which people have rather strong opinions. There are number of places where one might get really good cheesecakes including at the aforementioned Babbo which does a ricotta and robiola cheesecake that is out of this world but for authentic melt-in-your-mouth New York style cheesecakes, it is (almost) universally acknowledged that you need to go to Junior’s (386 Flatbush Avenue Extension at Dekalb Avenue, Brooklyn, NY 11201) or Elaine’s (17 Cleveland Place, New York, NY 10012). Junior’s is justifiably proud of its “World’s Most Fabulous Cheesecake”. Around since 1950, Junior’s cheesecakes are certainly not for the weak of heart. Packed with cream cheese goodliness and crisp and crunchy crust, Junior’s cheesecakes can be the downfall of just about any diet known to man. But as the song goes, “what a lovely way to burn.”

A New York Times described Elaine’s cheesecakes as “ethereally light” and having then tried it, I agree completely. It almost seems impossible for a cheesecake to be that light. But don’t be fooled – it still packs a punch and will leave you feeling sated like only a cheesecake can. A word to the wise – don’t try this after downing a 20 oz. steak dinner. You will do justice neither to the steak nor the cheesecake.

So there you have it, the ten not to be missed food experiences in New York City. Once again – the usual disclaimer: these are my favorites, not the favorites. Watch this space for the next list.

"New York, New York, It's a Wonderful Town"

2007-01-19T20:48:00.000-05:00

I've often been asked why I love New York. This passage, of which I was reminded recently by my friend Rearset, written by a person I consider one of the most important philosophers of the 20th century, is possibly one of the more eloquent answers there are:

"I would give the greatest sunset in the world for one sight of New York's skyline. Particularly when one can't see the details. Just the shapes. The shapes and the thought that made them. The sky over New York and the will of man made visible. What other religion do [they] need?"... "Is it beauty and genius they want to see? Do they seek a sense of the sublime? Let them come to New York, stand on the shore of the Hudson, look and kneel. When I see the city from my window - no, I don't feel how small I am - but I feel that if a war came to threaten this, I would throw myself into space, over the city, and protect these buildings with my body."

-Ayn Rand, The Fountainhead, p446.

New York's Top 10: Food!

2007-01-15T12:17:00.000-05:00

Of course, the first list was going to be about food. What did you think?!

Actually, even as I was writing out this first list, I realized that it was going to be a tougher job that even I had anticipated. So this first post is only five of the ten eating places I was going to write about. Even with the truncated list, this is one long post (hence the smaller font), so be warned. The next post with the other five will probably be as long so be warned again.

Anyway, without further ado and in no particular order, here are the ten (or so!) absolute must-eats in New York and where to eat them:

Steaks: For the true carnivore, there is really only one place to eat steaks - Peter Luger's Steakhouse in Brooklyn (178 Broadway, Brooklyn, NY 11211). Things are really simple at Peter Luger's - they only serve porterhouse steaks for 2, 3 or 4 people and they only cook them up to a medium, if that (if you like your meat cooked more than that, you really shouldn't be eating steaks anyway!) and they only take cash. If you are dining there alone, they'll give you a steak for one, but why would you go alone to Peter Luger's?!

For those who want a little more variety and/ or a more traditional steakhouse, there is Keens Steakhouse (72nd West 36th St, New York, NY 10018). Keens has been around since 1885 and other than its steaks, is famous for its ‘legendary mutton chop’, which is actually a gargantuan 26 oz. lamb chop cooked to perfection (i.e. stuck over a candle for a minute). They even have a ‘pipe club’ and have pipes that once belonged to Babe Ruth and Teddy Roosevelt amongst others. Whatever.

All-You-Can-Eat Meat: A churrascaria is a Brazilian steakhouse with a concept as almost as simple, and as brilliant, as Peter Luger’s. Each diner gets a disc one side of which is red, the other green. As long as the green side of the disc is up, the servers keep bringing you meat – prime cuts of beef, pork, sausages, even the odd chicken or turkey – and carve it right at your table. When you are ready to give up, you flip the disc over to the red and they stop. When you get your second wind, you flip it over again – you see how it goes.

There are a number of churrascarias in New York but the Churrascaria Plataforma (316 West 49th Street, New York, NY 10019) has pretty much perfected the genre, as it were. You can wash down your food with a cool Guarana (a Brazilian soda sort of like a cream soda) or something stronger like a Caipirinha (any one of a variety of cachaca based cocktails). Your meal comes with sides like rice, mashed potatoes, vegetables, fried plantains, etc. and they even have a buffet salad and appetizer bar. But, really, who gives a damn?!

The one thing they don’t do well at Churrascaria Plataforma is feijoada, Brazil’s de facto national dish – a stew of any and every kind of meat you can think of and black beans. For this, you need to go to Via Brasil (34 West 46th St, New York 10036), where they make the best feijoada I’ve eaten in a restaurant. Both places have live music and atmosphere and whatnot, but like said before, who cares?!

Pizza at Lombardi’s: New Yorkers take their pizza very seriously and have very definite views about what it should and should not be. Not for us all the deep-dish nonsense. The quintessential New York pizza is street food, meant to be eaten on the go. As such, you want the crust to be crispy on the outside so that the toppings don’t seep through, chewy and soft on the inside so that the toppings don’t slide off and they have to be thin and large so that they can be folded vertically, like a sandwich. Et voila! (Or Mamma Mia! as the case may be), you have the famous ‘Brooklyn style pizza’. It’s all form following function, baby.

But, when you want to kick your pizza up a notch as Emeril Lagasse would say, you head on over to Lombardi’s (32 Spring St, New York, NY 10012). Opened in 1897, Lombardi’s is, by their own admission, the ‘best pizza on the planet’. They make only two kinds of pies – one with marinara sauce called the Original, and one with mozzarella called the White Pizza. There are only two sizes, you can’t buy slices, they don’t reservations and they only take cash (it seems like there is a theme developing here). They also have calzones but all the times I have been there, I’ve never actually seen someone order one. Their pizzas are sublime though, loaded with as many toppings as you want, perfectly foldable and the crust is almost graham cracker crunchy. Wash it down with some of their house Chianti and for about $50 two people can stuff themselves silly.

Hot-Dogs: When it comes to hot-dogs, there are two schools of thought – the Chicago school and the New York school. Not to disparage the Windy City but their hot-dogs come with a neon-green onion relish that tastes just like it looks. ‘nuff said.

In New York, we eat our hot-dogs with some mustard, a bit of relish and a dab of sauerkraut. Never ketchup! Even though the friendly guy at the hot-dog cart will have it, as soon as you ask for ketchup, it marks you as an outsider, a tourist! But getting a hot-dog ‘with everything’ from a street-cart is definitely on the must-do list, as is a visit to Gray’s Papaya (2090 Broadway, New York, NY 10023) where the hot dogs are nor the best in the world (but at 95 cents they’ll do) but the papaya drink is really the reason to go there. Then there is the Nathan’s Famous hot-dogs at Coney Island, which is where it all started in 1916 and which is the site of the famous hot-dg eating contest. But the king of all hot-dogs in New York is the ‘guaranteed 15-bite’ nearly one pound monster at The Brooklyn Diner (212 57^th street, New York, NY 10019). At nearly $16, it is frikkin’ expensive for a hot dog but it is worth every penny. The hot-dogs come with a giant mound of onion rings and the hot-dogs themselves are really delicious – all-beef, kosher – and their sauerkraut has juniper berries in them. Take it from someone who has done a lot of primary research on hot-dogs, the Diner’s the real thing.

Burgers at the Burger Joint: The Burger Joint at the Park Meridien hotel used to be one of those insider places that only a few people knew about. Unfortunately, those days are long gone and now the lines and the wait for the burgers are long. Fortunately, the burgers are still the best in the City. The Burger Joint only serves two kinds of burgers (here we go again) – hamburgers and cheeseburgers, and the easiest way to order is to get one with ‘everything on it’. They also have awesome milkshakes and pitchers of beer (Sam Adams only). Definitely a place with attitude (what place in New York isn’t?), they proudly proclaim, “If you don’t see it, we don’t have it.” One of the few places that will still do a burger medium rare, the Burger Joint has extraordinarily succulent melt-in-your-mouth ½ lb patties and really good fries served the old-fashioned way in paper cones. If it’s burgers you want, and there is absolutely no reason why you shouldn’t, the Burger Joint is the place to go.

New York Top 10

2007-01-15T02:08:00.000-05:00

A very beautiful and smart friend of mine is planning a trip to the City for the first time and so she asked me, as - ahem! - the veteran New Yorker to give her a list of the top-10"must do" things in New York. I thought and I thought and I thought. Then I thought some more (she really is rather stunning and when someone like that asks you for something, you treat it like the command it is). But finally, I have to admit that I was stumped. There is absolutely no way that you can narrow down the New York experience to 10 things. Can't be done. I mean, it's like asking Gandhari to name 10 favorite of her hundred sons - could she ever do that?!

OK, bad example. But you get the general drift.

Then I had my Eureka moment. I am going to split this up into categories like Food or Entertainment and make a list of 10 for each! Problem solved. Damn, I am good!

I thought I'd have a separate post for each category and just so it is easy to keep track of (for those keeping track of these things or those who might also want to visit me and use these lists as a sort of blueprint for what they would like to do in the City), they will all have the same title: "New York Top 10 - '---'".

Caveat emptor: Although the title says "Top 10", these lists are anything but. Simply think of each list as the 10 things I would like to do. You don't necessarily have to agree or even be interested in a particular category/ list item.

Off we go then - keep an eye out for the lists.

Man, the things I do in service of Beauty...

Snowflakes Keep Falling on My Head...

2007-01-10T23:45:00.000-05:00

Say Hallelujah!

So we finally had the first snowfall of the season, and the year. And about damn time, too! Ok, they were only flurries. And they lasted for about 30 seconds but for those 30 seconds, it was real live snow falling in the City!

I was beginning to despair ever seeing the white stuff. This has been the warmest winter on record in the United States and the first completely snow-less December in New York in a 129 years. I mean, it was 70 freakin' degrees last Saturday! In January! It was almost enough to make a man start to believe Al Gore - and that is a scary thought! But now the temperature has dropped to a bracing 31 as I write this and hopefully more cold weather and snow is on the way.

C'mon, say it with me - WINTER ROCKS!

*The painting is called "Snow in New York" by Robert Henri (1865-1929) and was painted in 1902. I got the image from a course website of the USC Annenberg School of Communication.

Nürburgring

2007-01-10T01:18:00.000-05:00

Check out this commercial for the new BMW X5. It doesn't do much for me as an advertisement for the X5 but it does give you an up close and personal view of the hallowed Nürburgring track.

Now you know what Schumi sees (or saw) from his little red Ferrari as he goes round the bend.

Oops! Did I say that out loud?!

Travelocity

2007-01-08T01:13:00.000-05:00

For someone whose annual pilgrimage to India requires regularly flying to and from Delhi in late December/ early January, I've been extraordinarily lucky over the years. I've never had a flight canceled or even delayed because of weather. And anyone with any experience of a north Indian winter will tell you that that is remarkable indeed.

Well, this year my luck finally ran out. On a night when the fog was so thick, it was claustrophobic - like a white wall closing in on you - my flight was canceled and I was witness to the slow but inexorable descent into chaos of a full 747-load of passengers. It was certainly - how do I put this delicately - an interesting experience. Here are the good, the bad and the ugly highlights of the wait.

The Good: The airline told us right off the bat that our flight was likely to be delayed as we were checking in even as the computer monitors above the counters were showing that the flight was on time. They checked in the bags, told us not to clear immigration, asked us if we would rather go to a hotel or go back home if the flight was canceled, noted phone numbers and contact information and were generally the very model of efficiency. And I am ashamed to say this, but I was totally not expecting such professionalism and was absolutely amazed.

And the next day, when I found the same guys still on duty, still smiling, still patient as they had been all night, I was officially flabbergasted. Big kudos to them.

The Bad: Unfortunately, the airline staff made up for their singular diligence by their singular lack of foresight. Apparently it didn't occur to anyone to order buses to transport those that needed to go to the hotel until after the flight was officially canceled, despite telling everyone repeatedly for about two hours that a cancellation was imminent.

They apparently also expected the buses to materialize as soon as they asked for them, as if by magic. Which would be the only explanation for herding all the passengers outside the terminal to wait for the buses in the miserable Delhi fog. For another two hours. To their credit, no one seemed more shocked that the buses didn't magically appear than the airline staff. They worked off their frustration by running around randomly and yelling at each other.

The Ugly: Just at Indian drivers, when they get to Europe or America, develop impeccable road manners, follow traffic laws and lay off the horn, so also when Westerners come to India, they become 'Indian' in their ways a little too easily. When the first buses arrived to take us to the hotels, absolute pandemonium broke out as everyone tried to get into the bus, out of the cold and on their way. The people with the French, German, British, American and Lord alone knows what other accents pushed little old ladies and grandpas in monkey-caps with the best of them. As the chaos got worse, the veneer finally slipped from a French (sounding) couple fighting just a few feet from me and the man uncorked a "Bloody Indian Savages" salvo. The airline staff, to their everlasting credit and showing quite extraordinary presence of mind, whisked the couple away in the couple of seconds of stunned silence before they would have gotten lynched.

Two things struck me about the whole incident - one, that the couple, even acknowledging their bigotry, showed the monumental stupidity to racially abuse Indians, in India, in front of a already restless and angry crowd. That should qualify for the Darwin awards right there! And two, I had overheard them telling some people as we were waiting for the buses, that they were returning from Auroville, having gone there on a pilgrimage.

Epilogue: As I was waiting to board the plane the next day, I learnt from one of the airline guys who had been there since the night before that someone had apparently forgotten the wake-up call to the couple from Auroville and now they would unfortunately have to take the next flight out. Which was likely to be canceled because of fog.

Food for Thought

2007-01-07T01:17:00.000-05:00

So I am back in the City after a couple of weeks in the old country. It was a bittersweet trip. On the plus side, I met an old friend after three years during which she had to deal with some nasty shit. I remembered her as a beautiful, if slightly flighty girl, impetuous and given to impulse. She was as beautiful as ever but more poised, calmer, more put together. Most definitely the highlight of my trip to the city the Lutyens built.

On the downside, this was probably the worst trip I had foodwise. Usually, one of the best things about going to Delhi is the chance to hit up my old favorite haunts, eat the food of my youth and generally reminisce about the flying habits of ol’ daddy time.

This time round I realized what has probably been apparent to Delhites for a long time now – Nathu’s in Bengali Market should close. The place is filthy, the ras malai is inedible and the chhole bhature – omigod, the chhole bhature, they were perhaps the worst I’ve ever ha! I was in such shock and so terrified of what I would discover next that I actually hit the Haldiram's in Chandni Chowk just before going to the my favorite chhole bhature place at this shack across the Town Hall. Thankfully, they hadn’t yet lost their touch and their rabri-falooda did much to assuage my feelings.

Not for long however as I discovered that the momos at the Nagaland stall at Dilli Haat and the usually dependable Punjabi-Chinese at Chopsticks have both gone rather rapidly to hell in a hand-basket. Add to that the fact that this year, for the first time in living memory, my brother and I failed to make it to Golden Dragon for our traditional Double Fried Pork and beer and you can see how this was turning into a disaster.

He made up for it by taking me to one of his favorite Italian restaurants in Mumbai, Da Vinci, but they were obviously having an off-night as well because they managed to screw up my risotto and his wife’s Caesar Salad (which needs talent, believe me. I mean, the thing had no garlic, I don’t think they had even heard of anchovies and the fucker had drowned in the dressing).

We followed that up with an eminently forgettable meal at Delhi’s Lodi Restaurant comprised of nothing-to-write-home-about lamb shanks for me and the bro and a completely bland overdone steak for his (it was billed as a fillet, but I seriously doubt if it was even beef!).

Oh well, I suppose this means that one the next trip, I will have to find me some new favorite eating places. It will be tough job requiring extensive field research but I guess someone has to do it. Watch this space!

Must See TV

2007-01-06T19:21:00.000-05:00

Check out this series of brilliant on-line commercials for Blendtec Blenders. Seemingly based on the 'Will it Float' game on Dave Letterman's show, its called Will it Blend and amongst the things they blend: a can of soup - with the can, a bottle of beer - with the bottle, golf balls, cell phones and my favorite so far - an Ipod. Awesome!

The only more effective ad for a blender I've seen was a long time ago for a brand I can't remember in which they mixed concrete in the blender. Maybe that's what these guys should do next!

Yum-O!

2006-12-14T11:55:00.000-05:00

I'm a Rachael Ray fan. There, I said it. I think I even might have had a crush on her up until a few years ago when I was still in grad school and Rachael was as pleasant a way to nurse a hangover as any. Now that I'm gainfully employed, Rachael and I meet less frequently - scheduling problems, don't you know.

For those who came in late, Rachael Ray is the immensely popular host of such tv shows as '30 Minute Meals' and '$40 A Day' on the Food Network channel. She is known for her wide smile, her almost preternatural perkiness at all times and her gift of the terms 'garbage-bowl'and 'EVOO'to the English lexicon. And, although she is no Mario Batali or Bobby Flay, she is a pretty competent cook. I've made some of her recipes so I can assert, from experience, that they work (A recipe for Venetian Shrimp and Scallops even managed to convert a friend to an appreciation of seafood).

The astute latecomer will surely ask at this point, "so what's not to like?"

Exactly my point.

Imagine then my surprise, and shock, to find that Rachael Ray is one of the most reviled anchors on Food Network! There are websites, entire online 'communities' dedicated to vicious criticism of Rachael Ray. Recently, even the New York Times Magazine found itself compelled to comment on this phenomenon in a lengthy article in its November 26,2006 issue (subscribers to the New York Times can access the article here).

Of the many criticisms leveled at Ms. Ray, the most frequent is that she uses too much of pre-packaged foods (bagged salads, canned and bottled sauces and the like), that she drowns everything in chicken broth and - get this! - her recipes are too easy to make.

This, in a country where a traditional Thanksgiving casserole calls for canned beans (one of the worst abominations in the world), condensed cream of mushroom soup and canned fried onions.

Of course, in a flip-flop worthy of John Kerry, the critics also point out that Rachael Ray's recipes are impossible to make within 30-minutes with or without the pre-packed food. Especially without.

To which I say, yes, it probably is impossible to replicate Rachael Ray's recipes in 30 minutes. But then, so is replicating (and I'm not using the term loosely) any cooking show recipe. They don't call it Food Porn for nothing. Just try making one of Emeril Lagasse's extravaganzas at home! Or get perfect cross-hatched char marks on a steak without a 15,000 BTU grill like the one Bobby Flay has in his backyard. If that isn't Food Porn, I don't know what is.

The other criticism heard most often is the use of her signature phrases, 'yum-O', 'delish', the aforementioned 'garbage-bowl' and her infamous 'EVOO', which she usually says right before (helpfully) expanding it to Extra Virgin Olive Oil. According to a Slate.com article from July, 2005, "Ray's ditzy demeanor also makes her easy to dismiss. She giggles off-cue and constantly praises her own cooking. " She often asks, rhetorically, "how cool is that?!", 'eyeballs' the measurements of her ingredients and uses a 'spoonola' - a cross between a ladle and a spoon.

Personally, I think EVOO is kinda cool, the garbage-bowl is a damned good idea, see nothing wrong with delish and as for yum-o, have you seen this pictures (here, here and here!) from the October 2003 issue FHM Magazine?! Yum-O indeed! Rachael Ray can lick the chocolate off my spoon anytime!

I think a lot of the hatred for Rachael Ray is in fact because her recipes are easy to make and that anyone of us could do them, if not in 30 minutes, then an hour. The founder of the anti-Rachael Ray on-line group profiled in the New York Times magazine article is quoted as saying that Rachael Ray 'trafficked in "common knowledge."' Another person vented that she had been using a garbage bowl for years and that she even lined hers with plastic bags so as not to have to wash them later.

Cooking shows with trained professional chefs like Mario Batali or Emeril Lagasse or Bobby Flay have an awe factor that Rachael Ray doesn't. We are bedazzled by their knife skills, the use of exotic ingredients, their vast knowledge about the cuisine in which they specialize and the fact that they are all (immensely) successful restaurateurs. And so when one of their recipes, tried at home, looks like it came out of a can, there are ready made excuses: he is a trained chef, he used oyster mushrooms but I only had the cheap supermarket button variety - we put it down to the difference between professionals and amateurs. But with Rachael Ray, we think, "what's so special about her? I could do that too, except I don't have a cooking show, the bitch!". And when a recipe that Rachael made seemingly out nothing but canned tomatoes and chicken broth still doesn't turn out well at home, that's when the yum-os and the delishes really begin to grate and the rage and the resentment and the jealousy boil over.

Flipping the Bird

2006-12-09T01:38:00.000-05:00

According to an article in the New York Times, pigeons are waging war on the US Armed Forces Career Center at Times Square - and seem to be winning. Apparently, the pigeons have taken over the roof of the recruiting center and, having secured the high ground, are laying siege. When engaged by the military, they retreat but come right back - rather like some South East Asian folks the US military has had prior experience with.

Well, the US military, desperate to get rid of the birds, hired a company to install a sound system on the roof with four speakers that emit "the call of predators and even the sound of pigeons being attacked."

While the sound apparently turns a few human heads every day, the affect on the pigeons so far - didley bupkes! They seem not to be affected by it, ignore it for the most part and the only concession they have made is to vacate the immediate vicinity of the speakers.

The company thinks its because the pigeons, being urban pigeons, have never heard "the call of predators", such as falcon, and therefore, are not effected by the noise.

Here's what I think - these are New York pigeons, for fuck's sake!!! Call of predators indeed! They dodge MTA buses, crazy cabbies, idiot drivers from White Plains and Jersey, not to mention millions of tourists who walk around goggle eyed, staring upwards at the tops of buildings. These bad boys could probably take down a falcon or two, if it came to it. Especially if they were country falcons.

You really think that making a little noise at them would make them go away? I mean, really!

Anyway, here's an excerpt from the article:

NEW YORK REGION | December 7, 2006
Birds Just Won't Listen to Military Noise-Maker
By JAMES BARRON
A device is supposed to deter pigeons outside a military recruiting center in Times Square, but the birds don't seem to be paying much attention.
Last month the contractor who maintains the little metal-and-glass building between 43rd and 44th Streets installed a noise-producing contraption that was supposed to shoo the pigeons away.

The device came with four speakers, fewer than some home-theater setups have, but enough to blast bird noises every 10 minutes or so. The noises — the calls of predators, even the sounds of pigeons being attacked — are supposed to scare the pigeons, or at least make them pay attention.

Everybody does pay attention to the noise, it seems — everybody but the pigeons. Pedestrians shake their heads at the idea of woodsy sound effects in the urban jungle. The pigeons, having abandoned the southern end of the recruiting station roof, where the speakers are, stay put on the northern end.

50 Shots

2006-12-09T01:16:00.000-05:00

Early in the morning, or too late at night depending on how you look at it, of November 25, 2006, Sean Bell was shot and killed by the police as he was leaving a nightclub with two friends. The two friends, Joseph Guzman and Trent Benefield, were critically injured. Bell and his friends were at the nightclub for a bachelor party.

Sean Bell was killed on the day of his wedding.

According to news reports, the police - an unit of seven undercover officers who were at the club as pat of a sting operation targeting prostitution and drug dealing - fired 50 rounds. Twenty-one hit the car Bell and his friends were in – Bell was shot 7 times, Guzman 11 times and Benefield was shot 3 times.

Of the seven officers, only five fired their weapons – standard issue Glock 9mm semi-automatic handguns, with 15-round clips and one round in the chamber – and just one officer, an experienced veteran, fired 31 rounds, using up two full magazines and pausing to re-load once in between.

The officers said that Bell and his friends had had an altercation with another group at the nightclub and an officer who was in the club and behind the trio as they left heard one of them say that he would get his gun. The friends got into their car, the officer asked them to stop; Bell, who was driving, accelerated and hit the officer; the officer fired the first shots, the other police officers, waiting in an unmarked minivan drove up; Bell drove into the minivan, backed up and drove into it again. The police let loose their fusillade.

Bell and his friends never fired back and no gun was found, either on them or in the car or anywhere in the vicinity. They were unarmed.

The community accused the police of brutality and racism saying that Bell and his friends were targeted because they were black. The police said that the nightclub in question has a long history of crime and where many arrests have been made in the past and when they heard one of the three men mention a gun they had to take it seriously. When the men ran into one of the officers and then the car the police were in, they fired. It was regrettable but justified, the police said.

The terrible tragedy of the whole thing is that both are probably correct to an extent.

The three men have an altercation/ fight/ ‘words’ in the nightclub with another group of people. One of the three says, probably loudly, that he has a gun, or he will get his gun. They didn’t have a gun but obviously wanted to make the other group believe that they did. Unfortunately, the officer believed it too. So when they are asked to stop outside the club, they have just been in a fight in which threats with guns were made, they are unarmed, and they see a person in street clothes, obviously looking for trouble asking them to stop. In such a situation, my first instinct would be to gun the accelerator of my car and get the hell away too and if I manage to scare or hit the guy chasing me, so much the better.

But now the guy is firing and his friends show up in a car and they have guns! If Bell and his friends stay there, they’re going to get killed!! So they try to ram their way out and die in the hail of gunfire that follows.

But looking at it from the police officer’s side, one can also understand the situation. The undercover cop, who is alone in the night club, in street clothes to blend in and unarmed (he went back to the car to retrieve his weapon before approaching the three men) sees the fight/altercation in the nightclub, hears the bit about having/ getting a gun, follows the men outside and when he asks them to stop, they run into him with their car Then , when his back-up arrives, the three men run into that car too – twice, deliberately. The officer, hearing talk of the gun, had no reason not to believe it – after all this was a nightclub notorious or crime and where people with guns could reasonably be expected to be found. And when he and his colleagues were rammed by the three people in the car, that was clear and hostile intent, was it not? Thus, justifying the shooting.

Except that they fired 50 shots. Fifty.

One officer emptied the entire first clip, reloaded and then emptied the second clip. While two officers did not shoot at all. Why was there such a disparity in the number of shots fired? Why was one compelled to fire 31 times while two others thought they need not fire at all – in reacting to the same situation? Was the one over-zealous/ racist and the others prudent? Or was the one justified while the two others froze? Perhaps we will never know the answers to these questions.

Malcolm Gladwell, in his excellent book “Blink: The Power of Thinking Without Thinking” has a chapter on the other infamous New York shooting – that of Amadou Diallo who was shot 41 times. That took seven seconds and I’m guessing this incident in Queens went down pretty much in the same time frame. Although NYPD officers are trained to fire in bursts and stop after three shots to assess the situation, according to the testimony in the Diallo case, the NYPD manual “require(s) that… the first trigger pull being a conventional trigger pull and all subsequent trigger pulls being a hair trigger pull, and to further require that the ammunition that they carry be known as pointed full-metal jacket ammunition.”

I don’t think that for a veteran, trained police officer firing off 16 rounds, reloading and firing another 15 would have taken more than a few seconds especially given the “hair trigger” guns he was required to carry.

In his book, Mr. Gladwell also describes what he calls, “mind-blindness” – that when stress response is taken to an extreme and heart rates increases 175 the body shuts down all non-essential physiological activity. Is that what happened? Were the officers on the scene so focused on the immediate, the perceived threat that they literally could not see or hear anything else? Maybe.

But these were trained officers. Even if race was not a factor, and I believe it was – on both sides, it was extraordinarily inept police work. And a man is dead. And 50 shots were fired.

New York Redux

2006-12-02T16:54:00.000-05:00

One other thing that struck me in Vir Sanghvi's article that I linked to in my last post was his identification of New York with Times Square. Mr. Sanghvi named a number of cities and the particular landmark with which he identified them: Paris - Champs Elysees; London - Hyde Park; Tokyo - Shinjiku; New York - Times Square. It was a throwaway line and I'm sure Mr. Sanghvi meant nothing by it. Most people, especially those not from the City, when they think of New York are really thinking of Manhattan and specifically of Times Square and Mr. Sanghvi, as someone who has obviously not lived in the City for any considerable period time, made the same tourist's-view-of-New-York association.

Except that New York is so much more than Times Square. In fact, Times Square as we know it today is a fairly recent development, going back to the mid-90s when Rudy Giuliani decided to clean it up. Before that, throughout the 70s and 80s, Times Square was a drug addled, crime-ridden cesspool into which only the very brave or the very foolish ventured. Between porno-theaters, prostitutes and crack dealers, there was little room for the glitz and glamor that we see at Times Square today.

A stroll along Lenox Avenue or 125th St in Harlem or by the Yankee stadium in the Bronx or in 'Little Odessa' - Brighton Beach in Brooklyn will present views of the city that are worlds away from Times Square and are yet quintessentially New York.

But one needn't even go as far afield as Brooklyn or the Bronx. Even if you start at Battery Park and work your way up to the Central Park, you can almost feel the evolution of the City from the organic Downtown to the Bohemian Greenwich Village to the modern grid of Midtown.

New York is often called the world's largest small town and in many ways it is. It is a city of distinct neighborhoods, each with a unique character all its own. You can never mistake Chinatown with Little Korea or the Upper East Side with the Upper West Side. There isn't a border to cross into Harlem but when you are there, you damn well know you're in Harlem.

And so Times Square is not any more a symbol of the City than the Esplanade is for Calcutta or Connaught Place is for Delhi - it's just a place where we park the tourists and dazzle them with lights so the stay out of our way and don't hog the tables at the neighborhood pizzeria!

Oh! Calcutta

2006-11-28T23:48:00.000-05:00

Speaking of Calcutta, here is a rather gushing rave about Calcutta written by Hindustan Times editor Vir Sanghvi for the paper's 2004 Durga Puja 'special'. I have long been an admirer of Mr. Sanghvi's work and find myself agreeing with his position on most matters, including almost all the sentiments that he expresses in this article. Although, the article was emailed to me by the previously mentioned Very Special Lady (let's call her VSL), I have since found numerous links to it on Google. The popularity of the article shows that it obviously struck a chord with Bengalis everywhere and it is easy to understand why. It struck a chord with me too, but for a different reason.

I have absolutely no scientific or empirical evidence to back up what I am about to say, (which is why I am posting it on a blog), but it occurs to me that most gushing raves about Calcutta have a couple of things in common: a) they are written by people who have lived in Calcutta but are not Bengali and b) who have since moved out of Calcutta. Prime examples, other than Mr. Sanghvi, are Jug Suraiya and Bachi Karkaria.

Here's my theory - even though theorizing without data is a capital mistake according to Mr. Holmes: Non-bongs, or Hon-bongs, who have moved out of Calcutta feel slightly guilty of having done so, almost as if expecting Bengalis to accusingly say, "See, I told you they would not stay! They didn't really love the city." So, in order to prove themselves holier than the Pope, more Bengali than the Bengali, they periodically come up with a nostalgic, slightly romanticized account of how great the city is and what fun they had when they were there, before they succumbed to the lure of fame and fortune in points west. Thus, they feel compelled to wear, their fondness for all things Calcutta on their sleeves (the "even though I left, I still love you" move). Not only must they be fond of Calcutta, they must be seen to be fond of Calcutta.

The Bengali on other hand couldn't care less. To him, (or her), Calcutta is the greatest place on God's good earth, he knows it and doesn't give a flying fuck whether anyone else does or not. If everyone else thought Calcutta was shit-hole, it wouldn't make any more of a difference to him than if everyone else agreed that it was the greatest place on earth. He is secure in his knowledge of the greatness of Calcutta, that's all that matters and he has no need for affirmation, flashy displays of affection... or even gushing raves in Durga Puja specials.

The Story of the Dak Bungalow

2006-11-26T01:18:00.000-05:00

Since I was reminded of Kipling recently, I remembered an article from the Calcutta (sic) Telegraph about the history and etymology of Dak Bunglaows. According to the author, Kipling spent a lot of time in Dak Bungalows in his travels across India. Having stayed in a few myself, most notably in Guna, Madhya Pradesh, the article struck a chord.

The word apparently is derived from the Bangla (what else!) and was originally nothing more than the hut of the Bengali peasant. I am posting an excerpt from the article with a link to the original. Enjoy.

                                SPOOKY FOR ALL TIMES -                      Of Dak Bungalows, Compounds and Bageechas                                                   

- Malavika Karlekar                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                               

"For the British rulers, whose morbidity and mortality rates were alarmingly high in an inhospitable land, trying to build homes and offices that minimized the ravages of disease and discomfort was by no means a minor preoccupation. As early as the end of the 18th century, the bungalow emerged as a distinct meld of styles. The Hobson-Jobson — that invaluable lexicon on legitimate and other entrants into Queen’s English — has a long and detailed description of it, the etymology of the word being traced back to the common hut of the Bengal (Bangla) peasant. By the end of the 18th century, the East India Company’s engineering department was working on transforming the bangla, now also known as bungelow, bungelo, bangalla and, finally, bungalow."

Semper Fi

2006-11-24T20:15:00.000-05:00

I was recently reminded of this poem by Rudyard Kipling by a very special lady and since loyalty is the corner stone of all my relationships, this is for all the people who expect loyalty from me and from whom I expect likewise.

The Thousandth Man
-Rudyard Kipling (1865 - 1936)

One man in a thousand, Solomon says,
Will stick more close than a brother.
And it's worth while seeking him half your days
If you find him before the other.
Nine nundred and ninety-nine depend
On what the world sees in you,
But the Thousandth man will stand your friend
With the whole round world agin you.

'Tis neither promise nor prayer nor show
Will settle the finding for 'ee.
Nine hundred and ninety-nine of 'em go
By your looks, or your acts, or your glory.
But if he finds you and you find him.
The rest of the world don't matter;
For the Thousandth Man will sink or swim
With you in any water.

You can use his purse with no more talk
Than he uses yours for his spendings,
And laugh and meet in your daily walk
As though there had been no lendings.
Nine hundred and ninety-nine of 'em call
For silver and gold in their dealings;
But the Thousandth Man h's worth 'em all,
Because you can show him your feelings.

His wrong's your wrong, and his right's your right,
In season or out of season.
Stand up and back it in all men's sight --
With that for your only reason!
Nine hundred and ninety-nine can't bide
The shame or mocking or laughter,
But the Thousandth Man will stand by your side
To the gallows-foot -- and after!

Naming Names

2006-11-23T00:49:00.000-05:00

"What's in a name? That which we call a rose
By any other word would smell as sweet."

-- William Shakespeare: Romeo and Juliet (II, ii, 1-2)

We all know that Bengalis have a penchant for sticking their kids with some of the weirdest monikers known to man. And as if that weren't enough, they then compound matters by tacking on even uglier "pet" names to the already atrocious names, thus ensuring that generations of therapists will be kept busy (the world's psychiatrists owe us some acknowledgement - "I would like to thank Pocha and his parents for putting my own children through college" - but that is another post).

A case in point is this rather funny, and anonymous, take on Bong nicknames, (the infamous "Daak Naam!"), which has done the rounds of the email forwards, including me. All I can say is that when Ronojoy and Anurabha are used as used as examples of "good" names (pun intended) spoilt by nicknames, you know that things are bad indeed.

But... Bengalis of the world take heart! The absolute weirdest Bong name has nothing on the names of children in a friend's elementary school class in Dallas, TX. Here are some of the winners:

Courvoisier – Even when Emmanuel Courvoisier was setting up his business in the 19^th century, this only worked as a family name. Today, it is as clear a confession of a drunken hook-up as there ever was. Maybe someday she will have a brother called VSOP.

Miracle Omega - The boy decided to go by his middle name because he thought the first name was too girly. Let’s face it – when Omega is a better option than your given name, super atomic wedgies and being stuffed in your locker are going to become part of your daily existence. As for the career in the military, forget it. Just hope that your HMO covers extensive therapy.

ABCDE - pronounced Ab-si-dy. What can I say - just how lazy must your parents be if they are not even willing to go through the entire alphabet for your name?

Pleasure du Jour - 'nuff said.

Don't Mess with Texas?

2006-11-12T01:30:00.000-05:00

Finally! Proof positive that there are actually bleedin' heart, pinko commie liberals in Texas!

And there was light

2006-11-09T23:12:00.000-05:00

From looking at the site statistics, I realize that I set up this blog in March 2005 so it has only taken me a year and a half to write my first post - not bad for the king of all procrastinators, even if I say so myself!

I've flattered myself for a long time by thinking that there are people who would be interested in what I say but sniveling coward that I am, I've always been afraid to test that theory and finding out that, basically, no one gives a rat's ass about what I think or do.

Not that I am setting high standards or anything, or expecting to out-Kos the Daily Kos. If the eight or so people who got conned into becoming my friends over the years read this, then I've pretty much reached my target audience. On the other hand if each of those eight were to pass the word on to eight of their friends, and each of them passed it on a further eight and then... well, you see it how it works. I could go from the initial eight to the entire population of the world in about 11 easy steps! In the old days it was called the "Ghost to Ghost Hook-up". Now its called MySpace.

But I digress...

As I'm often wont to do. Get used to it.

Anyhoo... what I'm hoping is to do is some introspection, make some observations and hopefully cause a little consternation - essentially write about whatever the hell I want (ain't the internet great?!). Which, as you will soon realize, will be often be food, the City, movies, books, photography - basically everything listed grandiosely under "Interests" in the profile page - and a whole lot of completely random crap. That's the stream of consciousness part of the blog! But hopefully, my posts will be funny enough and interesting enough for you come back.

Any similarity, in a cheap Chinese knock-off kind of way, to Bill Simmons' (ESPN's Sports Guy) writing style is wholly intentional and my 'umble way of sucking up to the best sports columnist in the US right now. If you want to read the real thing, and you should, see the link on the right. I will now patiently wait for Simmons to break my knuckles with a pair of pliers.

Now that I've finally got the first post in, I will try and post regularly - on weekends to start with and maybe more (or less) often in the future. I am a complete novice at this game and I'm still figuring out the technology and learning as I go. If, at the moment, this looks like the windows 3.1 of blogs, a little patience, bitte - I will improve/add things in the future.

So, welcome to Omphaloskepsis! I hope you like what you see and that you will be back. If you would like to make rude comments, snide remarks, scatological jokes or even helpful suggestions, fire at will.