White sands. Azure skies. Cheerful blue seas. The sound of waves crashing into the wind. Chilled white in a bucket of ice. Grains of caviar on virginal crackers. A bowl of grapes. White sandals strewn carelessly on a red rug. The swish of nylons, the shimmer of silk. A mischievous smile.
Does bread talk to you?
I was a bit disoriented as I realised that next week would probably by my last at Fort before we shift to the new office. I had lunch at Deluxe. Porota. Keralite chicken curry. The waiter, who recognises me by now, came and gave me a steaming glass of rasam. On the house. “Have it. It’s hot. Made fresh”.
I stepped out. Realised I was on the wrong lane and ended up in front of Yazdani Bakery. I stepped in and ordered the apple pie that I wanted for a while. Couldn’t finish it and packed half. It was 50 Rs (!). Then saw that they stocked foccaccia bread. I picked up a loaf for home (Rs 20).
I stopped at Sante’s at Pali Naka. Tasted Light Goat’s Gouda and some Turkey Bacon. Proper taste samples unlike the woman at Nature’s Basket who gave us some cheese dust to sniff the other day. Picked both up and walked home.
I made myself some coffee to have with the apple pie. Broke a chunk of the foccaccia. Added a drizzle of olive oil on it. Bit into it with and then a bite of cheese.
I had to whip out the camera.
