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 Image Courtesy BBC
Another season of Raymond Blanc’s The Restaurant on BBC Two has drawn to a close. In a shock decision, the great chef has decided to open a restaurant with creepy JJ and James. And their concept? ‘Picnic’ food on proper plates. Yes you heard that right. For 8 weeks, the culinary challenged JJ, an awardwinning bartended apparently, served kebabs and scotch eggs to the mugs in Bristol, many of whom could be heard weeping later.
Every week, one was guaranteed a shot of JJ weilding his weapon of choice, the cocktail mixer. Shake, shake, shake, he’ll go and pour a brightly coloured concoction onto glasses and glide on to the next week on the alcoholic fumes.
In the final task, the bloke disregarded the hostess’ explicit request to use the kitchen garden vegetables and ordered his stuff via telephone; made wallpaper paste in place of risotto; and made an absolute balls-up of a souffle. While the other half of the table enjoyed a perfect chocolate souffle made by the other finalist Chris, the hostess Lady Arran and her half looked on. Until James schmoozed and JJ shake, shaked yet another cocktail. And became the winners.
Poor Chris and Nathan, the losing finalists. I would gladly eat in your restaurant any day guys – at least I know whilst Nathan might insult me by being insolent, Chris can at least cook. Which is more than I can say for JJ.
In these tough, recessive times, Raymond Blanc and his partners have decided to put their money on a pair of blaggers with minimal cooking ability. Makes you wonder what was going in their minds.
Chennai – what are your plans for this Saturday night? How does an evening on the beach, jigging to some cool live music sound? And for a good cause too.
If you are interested, then join in and help clean up the beaches.
Oh, in case I forgot to mention, my sister-in-law is going to be singing!
2009 is winding to an end and what a year it has been! There have been so many highs and lows, I cannot pick one as the defining moment. Coupled with the fact that we are finishing with the Noughties, I think it is time to choose a top moment of the year / decade.
So tell me – what was the highpoint of the decade for you. And the worst.
The sucky gym saga continues.
I signed up to this blessed gym three weeks back. Booked an appointment and the girl rang twice to make sure I was coming. Went to see it and as it had a creche for The Mint, I was keen to join. The girl who showed me around, Kaely or Keeley, was effusive in her praise of the place. The friendliness of the staff and the other clients, how the gym would be such a lovely place and I fell for it, hook, line and sinker.
Even as she asked me to sign a contract, I told her I couldn’t as I might be moving back to India in May. She popped in to see ‘the manager’ (for all I knew, she just went for a walk) and came back to say it was alright and all I needed was a month’s notice to cancel my membership.
And taking her word for it – stupid of me, I know – I signed up to L A Fitness, Brentwood.
Since then, they have done their best to raise my blood pressure levels.
I try to fix an induction but seemingly there is just one person who is capable and that person is either running a class or giving someone else their induction. I book a slot and then minutes before I leave home for gym, they ring and tell me they can’t do it. Accompanied by an inane “Can’t do it I’m afraid, when are you free”. No apologies for wasting your time, no desire to put things right for a customer, just a breezy “no can do” attitude. As the only times I can attend the gym are when the creche can take The Mint, it hasn’t been easy.
But I really felt I am wasting my time with these people when I went in to the gym last Wendesday for the promised induction. I had confirmed before booking the creche that they indeed had a slot for me for that Wednesday. I walk in, ask the girl at the reception, a Lydia Sparrow, where I should meet the trainer, when she gives me a puzzled look that sent alarm bells in my brain. Sure enough, she looks at her appointment book and goes “Sorry, darling, there is no entry here, when are you free?”
I was proud of myself that I didn’t harangue her for wasting my time; just kept giving alternate timings, according to the gym free slots. Friday at 9.30. No, sorry, when am I free. Monday? Tuesday? No sorry, no can do.
So I walked out.
For the past week, I have been trying to get in touch with Keeley or Kayley and trying to cancel my membership. Which is easier said than done. This girl, who was so eager to make sure I kept my appointment to sign up, is now nowhere to be found. I ring the gym and the bright voice of Lydia tells me “she is not in the building” or “she is on the phone”. I leave messages, asking her to call me back. “Sure darling”, answers Miss Sparrow. But of course no one responds. For all I know, Keeley or Kayley is standing right next to Lydia.
So I ring the Head Office asking for my membership to be canceled. Sure thing, I am told. Just pay up the year’s fee. Whatever happened to my one month’s notice, I ask. Well, there’s no mention of that anywhere. Unless I can produce this Kayley / Keeley, it is just my word and no one’s going to believe that, now, are they? Considering I have left multiple messages for that elusive person, only to be told “dunno darling” when I ask when I can expect her to contact me again, chances of this Kayley person ringing me and telling me yes she had authorised a month’s cancellation notice when I signed up are slim to none, I reckon.
Till now, not ONE person has asked why I am cancelling my membership. Even after I walked out of the gym, Lydia Sparrow wasn’t even concerned; am doubtful if she took the time to report it to the manager cos so far, no one has rung me up to apologise for the confusion and a guarantee that things will be straightened.
Clearly this was a gym that doesn’t value me as a customer. All they need is my money. And they have it. The customer can go jump.
Updated to add: Just heard from Kayley (not Keeley) who just got my million messages and rang back. The first person who asked me WHY I was upset, WHAT made me want to get out within a fortnight of signing up. We had a long chat where I ranted and raved and poor Kayley apologised a gazillion times and promised to speak to the manager and smooth things out. She rang back in 10 minutes to say I will get my induction on Monday and the creche will take the Mint then. Oh and the gym will give me the £4.50 gym voucher.I agreed.
So there you go – sold my soul for £4.50!
I realised I haven’t done a Mintlet post for a long time now. She is keeping me so busy that I rarely have time to get off my toes and do anything constructive. Most of the time I am doing damage control, running behind this child.
I chanced upon a few photos taken in the beginning of this year, when she must have been seven months or so. And it jolted me to the core, how small and babyish she is looking. Compared to the hellion she has become at Month 14.5!
She is rarely ground level these days. Ever since she started walking (she took her first steps on Krishna Jayanthi) she rarely pauses to stop and smell the roses. From the minute she wakes up to the minute she is dragged to bed kicking and screaming, she is forever running. Running to the under-sink cupboard where I keep the cleaning fluids, so she can dump them on the living room carpet. Or running to the bedroom, opening my wardrobe and getting amidst my clothes. Or in her brother’s room, tossing aside clothes and toys and making his already messy room messier. Or climbing on chais, and then on to the dining / computer table. Hanging off the backs of the chair. If she isn’t doing one thing, she is doing ten.
She can get rid of her nappy easily and when no one else is looking. Many a times we have chanced upon us walking bare-bottomed. Usually, at such times, her bodysuit tails would be soiled as the monkey would have gotten rid of her poopy nappy and stashed it somewhere ’safe’! We just have to follow the pong to find out the special spot she has found for it!
She also loves dancing. She understands and says the word ‘dance’ very well. Minute you say dance, she’ll start bending at the waist and nodding her head side to side (if she is seated) or shake her booty. It is really hilarious to see her do that. Switch on any music – be it Suprabhatham or jazz or Wake Up Sid, she will start mumbling and start dancing. She won’t just do the same movements either – she will keep changing her arm movements, the way she bounces, some tiny changes always in tune with the music. Recently she has started humming along with the music too.
She babbles a LOT now. Her first word was typically “Pratik”! She also calls him “eesh” and can point him in any photo. She also says “yesh” clearly and sometimes, says “hi”. Tell her “NO” and she will counter with a “yesh” and get back to whatever naughty act she was doing. She also says “ta ta” very clearly, coupled with a waving hand gesture. But she won’t just bestow that on anybody!
Typical of a second-born, she also competes with her brother a lot. If he is reading a book, she has to pluck it off his hands and either tear a paper or two off it or fling it in the farthest corner of the room. If he is at the computer, she HAS to climb next to him or even on him and tap on the keyboard. If he is taking bath, she has to go to the bathroom and push the shower curtain aside and babble at him. If he is eating, she has to climb on his chair / hang off it and generally make him yell “Mummmyyyy, Minty’s bothering meee!” That plaintive cry is generally heard many, many times during the day. It is hilarious when this happens ‘cos, on one side would be Pratik, his face red and puffing like a steam engine; on the other side it will be this chit, who upon seeing me would scrunch up her eyes and start fake bawling. It takes all my energy not to break into a smile!
Let me wind this up with a funny story. We had recently gone on a weekend visit to one of hubby’s cousins. They have a nine-month old boy and though she didn’t really notice him much, The Mint just used to bash him on the head with the remote etc if he ventured too close. Sunday morning, we were all sitting in the lounge, the baby was getting his nappy changed. The Mint saw his, er, private parts and sat up straight! She pointed to her nappy, pointed to the baby and went “eesh!” Translation: he’s got stuff just like Pratik!
Ain’t she a card?
I’ll leave you with a recent photo of her, all dressed up and ready for the play group.
I realised how used I am to centralised systems when I signed up to my 19th C gym*. Though the machines and other paraphernalia are the latest air machines with heart monitors and whatnots, the much-used booking system is still done on paper. Add the fact that I need to book The Mint into the gym, the papers double and so does my headache.
My conversations with them run thus:
Me: Hello Miss Gym Somebody, I would like to book my induction.
MGS: Of course, when would you like it?
Me: How about Wednesday?
MGS: Sure. What time?
Me: Er, 9.30 am?
MGS: Sorry there’s no “9.30 am” in our gym clock. When else are you free?
Me: 11.00 am same day?
MGS: No unforunately all our trainers are scheduled to be stuck by bubonic plague then. When are you free?
Me: Friday 9.30 am two years from now?
MGS: Sure! I’ll pencil you in.
[Dials creche]
Creche Voice: Good Morning, this is the Creche.
Me: Hello, do you have a 9.30 am slot for Friday two years from now?
CV: No love, but I do have the 11.00 am one free for the next five minutes.
Me:Oh? Ok.
[Dials gym]
MGS: Hello, Gym.
Me: Hello MGS, unf the creche didn’t have a slot, can you change my induction to 11.00 am?
MGS: Oh let me look. Oh no! 11.00 is full. When are you free next?
Rinse. Repeat.
Things are a bit hairy here. The Mintlet has a severe case of nappy rash. I thought liberally applying Sudocreme would make it disappear but now it is day 3 and it is spreading. To see the angry red rashes across her tender butt is heartrending. She twists away if you try to change her nappy. But of course now, I have to change it much more frequently.
I want to see how it is tomorrow and decide if I should take her to the doctor or not.
We had just been to the doctor’s today, for her MMR and some other jab. When I mentioned to the nurse that the baby has a bad case of nappy rash, Nurse just told me to apply some nappy cream, all the time exclaiming what a lovely baby The Mintlet was, for not bringing the house down after getting a jab each in her thighs.
I want to get into an outdoor routine for her. Playgroups on Wednesdays and a Mum-and-child swimming session on Fridays. But things aren’t working so well in that area. I really need to pull up my socks and get to it!
Why is it even the simplest of things can cause a parent to
Some might find it dreary, some depressing but to me, Autumn has always seemed exotic. With trees sporting warm tones of colours, from a mellow yellow to a fiery red, the first half of Autumn is more fun than Winter can ever be.
After Bonfire Night, it gets tedious, admittedly, with sodden leaves on pavements that make you slip and slide but despite this, there’s nothing to beat Autumn. Last week, as we were bowling through Scotland, with the hills covered in orange, I was most ecstatic. Standing at Glenfinnan, gazing at the Viaduct, it the air seemed to thrum with magic. I wouldn’t have been surprised had Harry and Ron come flying in a battered Ford Anglia.
There’s nothing to beat Britain during the cold months. Fireworks, roasted chestnuts, christmas lights going up everywhere – there is a sense of expectation and revelry that only Autumn can give. Other people can keep the crisp Spring, the warm Summer and even the frigid Winter. Me, I’ll be happy with Autumn. Sodden leaves and all.
The past year has been a very difficult one.
Not just because I now have two kids to look after – but because my family lost one of its brightest jewels. My baby cousin, my uncle’s daughter, Shraddha, who was three and half months shy of her third birthday when she passed away suddenly.
That has been a very difficult thing to accept and overcome.
She was such a star and her passing has filled me with so much despair and outrage. And some guilt. In the past year, the number of times I had started writing, only to throw it away have been countless. I have been under a cloud of “what does it matter anyway?”
So my cyber life has been more than a little neglected.
But it has been that, that has sustained me these past few difficult months. My not-just-cyber pals-anymore pals have been mailing me, sending me virtual hugs ever so often, not just for me, but for my whole family, that the grief seems slightly bearable.
There will never be acceptance – how can one just accept the fact that this child, who had every right to a fantastic future, who had everything going for her, should be snatched away so rudely, so soon?
But, with a little help from my friends, the hole seems a little less hollow. So thank you – you know who you are.
October 31, 2009. Exactly a year since you passed on.
You are missed – every single minute of every single day. Not a day goes by when we don’t think about you, your sharp intellect, your generous heart, your joyful spirit. And not a day goes by when we don’t wonder how it might have been, had you been allowed to live a long and fulfilled life, as every child deserves to.
You would have been three years and eight months old today. Studying in LKG. Joining anna in his sloka and singing classes. Lighting up everyone’s lives.
I wonder what you’d look like now.
I hope you are at peace, dear heart. Beyond pain, hurt and fear. In a happy place. And one day, we will meet again. Till then, every minute will be spent in thinking of you.
Dear little Shraddha.
 AROUND THE WORLD IN 7 DAYS The lovely folks at Saffron Tree are celebrating their third birthday. Do mark October 23rd in your calendar as “CROCUS DAY” and visit the site for more details.
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