4 February 2015 – Lucky Peach
I ate my first really memorable momo, a simple Tibetan dumpling, in a small mudbrick house near northern India’s border with China. I was nearly 15,000 feet above sea level, it was my twenty-first birthday, and I was with a quiet old woman and her son, doing my best to help pinch the delicate dumpling skins into crescent moons around the filling of yak (or was it pork?), chili, ginger, and garlic—a task that mother and son completed with shaming aplomb. (more…)
16 January 2015 – Lucky Peach
When I started looking to rent a one-bedroom apartment in Bombay about two and a half years ago, I had a short list of specifications:
- It needed to be semi-furnished.
- I needed ceilings high enough that I wouldn’t have to crouch. (Being six feet tall, average-ish in New York but tall here, this is surprisingly not a given.)
- I needed at least some natural light.
- I needed a kitchen.
It was this last request that flummoxed my brokers. I saw several places that had a mini-fridge and a single hot plate in lieu of a kitchen. When I explained I needed someplace to cook, the broker would look at me—a single, twenty-something man—and say, “Yes, you can cook. Chai and Maggi.” (more…)