Around the World in 80 Dinners - Bill Jamison [72]
Putting It All Together
1 tablespoon ground dried chiles de arbol or japonais chiles or other fairly hot dried red chiles, warmed in 1 tablespoon vegetable oil, then cooled
12 lime wedges, from 2 medium limes
About ½ cup finely diced shallots
Cilantro leaves
Thai fish sauce
About 1 cup packaged Thai or Chinese pickled cabbage or mustard greens, rinsed, patted dry, and chopped, optional
Chopped peanuts and/or shredded coconut, optional
Place as garnishes into individual bowls the chile in oil, limes, shallots, cilantro, Thai fish sauce, and optional pickled cabbage, peanuts, and/or coconut.
In soup plates or large individual bowls, arrange equal portions of the boiled noodles. Ladle broth over each portion, distributing the steak equally. Scatter with the fried noodles and serve. Guests garnish their bowls as they wish, from the selection of toppings. Start with chopsticks to slurp the noodles, then alternate with Chinese ceramic spoons or other soupspoons to finish the broth.
INDIA
“WHAT THE HELL IS THAT?” BILL POINTS OUTSIDE, where explosions light the night sky on our plane’s approach to the Mumbai airport.
“Good grief,” Cheryl says, “it looks like Baghdad out there.”
“Well, if crazies of some kind are firing at us, they must be poor shots. None of the blasts seem close.”
Everyone has told us to expect the unpredictable in India, but this seems pretty extreme for an introductory howdy-do.
It is, as we soon find out. Our arrival coincides with the biggest night of the Hindu New Year celebration known as Diwali, the Festival of Lights. All the city is ablaze, though in a fashion as under control as anything ever gets here. A greeter from our hotel, the Taj Mahal, welcomes us at the airport and explains the occasion. “This is our biggest annual religious holiday and also the most jubilant night of the year, kind of like a combination of Christmas and New Year’s Eve on the same day. The crackers”—fireworks—“will be going off all night and for the next couple of days.”
His account continues while he escorts us to the hotel limousine for transportation into the heart of the city, provided as a part of our package for an executive-club-floor room in the Taj’s original midrise Palace wing. With a special Internet rate, the deluxe room costs only a little more than a standard double in the same building, but the staff extends special attention and courtesies to the guests, including airport transfers, a club lounge with complimentary breakfasts and cocktails, in-room registration and checkout, and a private butler-cum-concierge. Even at a normal time, and especially now it seems, the city formerly known as Bombay can be as chaotic as any metropolis on earth, but we’ve ensured ourselves a means to retreat at will to one of its calmest corners.
“On the way to the hotel,” the greeter goes on, “you will see lights everywhere because on this night the goddess Lakshmi, the provider of wealth, descends from the heavens to bless people with prosperity. Families put out lights so she will find their homes.” When he turns us over to our driver, he tells us, “Ask him about anything you don’t understand on your ride downtown, which will take a little longer tonight than the usual hour.” Every neighborhood we pass through, even the slums, glows brightly, sparkling with candles, bonfires, lanterns of all kinds, and strings of twinkling white lights.
“Incredible!” Cheryl exclaims. “Mumbai looks beautiful, even though I know it’s partially an illusion.”
“Light in our religion,” the driver says, “represents goodness and spiritual wisdom. Tonight, the light vanquishes wickedness, violence, and ignorance.”
“What about the flowers?” Cheryl asks, peering out at houses and shanties bedecked with golden marigolds and other blossoms in red and yellow hues.
“They are offerings to Lakshmi. We also give flowers to friends and family at Diwali as symbols of love, along with sweets and other festive foods.”
“The women and girls walking on the streets,” Bill says, “look just as radiant,