Glutted out
Today, Dad brought home spring rolls from a small, local place. I ate two large packets. Well, I left a few pieces for him but I think I will get more tomorrow. Spring rolls and soup. I haven't had soup in ages.
I don't quite like soup too much unless it is a hearty thick broth. There was a place called Mandarin's Kitchen in Colaba, just below Dhanraj Mahal where I worked. This spot served the very best Jade soup. It was a large bowl of flavourful, thick soup with lots of chopped greens and shrimps, prawns, and fish - such a joyous trifecta. (This was the sea-food version.) It smelled divine and each spoonful came with chunks of meats so one was quite full after a bowl. I used to have two bowls, though. And bring one bowl home.
I think I will have a wonton or a clear soup tomorrow or maybe mushroom or tomato. I love mushroom soup... a good creamy mushroom soup salted and peppered perfectly with the smoothness of melting butter. Just before COVID, my friend and I had gone to Fariyas, Lonavala and had a cup of tasty mushroom cappuccino. Another place that had great mushroom soup was Pop Tate's near Marol. Before they started getting stingy with the portions, they would get you a huge cup filled with soup that was frothed at the top. When you spliced through the foam, you reached a delectable tiny ocean of thick soup with hunks of mushrooms braised in butter.
As for tomato soups, one of my favorites is the sort you get in Rajdhani or at any station. It has to be a station though. The quick packet ones you get at the airport don't cut it and the ones you buy inside a plane may as well be dishwater. The ones in Rajdhani are slightly sweet (the purists complain that it tastes like diluted ketchup) but I love it. I like slightly sweet tomato soups. The Rajdhani soups come in a teeny paper cup and two bits of fried croutons. In the Bombay-Delhi Rajdhani, this is served with dinner. You have settled in, made reasonably hospitable contact with people around, you hold this cup of soup in your hands, chat a bit, someone dims the lights, you finish your meal, listen to the rhythm of the train hurtling through darkness, and wind down.
Soup - the wholesome fuel for 'you get there when you get there'.
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