Year: 2001

Amitabh, Xavier and I, after considerable deliberation on the choice of tonight’s restaurant, ended up at Gaylord, again in the Churchgate area. We sat at one of the tables near the entrance, informed a (relatively young, clean shaven) waiter that we’d like a seat inside ASAP, and we’d have drinks in the meantime. Just to be on the safe side, Xavier confirmed with him that it was OK if we got a seat in-between our drinks and we could take the drinks inside. After a few rounds of explanation, he seemed to get the point, and nodded. But the explanation must have done him more harm than good, because he forgot to make our reservation.

We ordered drinks in the meantime. Amitabh, a Bloody Mary (whose recommendation is “don’t have it.” Incidentally, Amitabh benchmarks drinks in a restaurant by Bloody Mary. So his recommendation actually translates to “Don’t have anything.”), Xavier, a Margarita (he didn’t enjoy it all that much either, but was less vehemant about it), and myself, a Virgin Mary. As its the first time I’m having it, I had to enquire (a) if it was non-alcoholic, and (b) what on earth is it? Turned out to be tomato juice, with salt on the rim, and a lemon hanging from a stick poking through it. The salt was tasty. (OK, I’m kidding, I fairly liked it.)

And then there was Paneer Alu Croquet, a starter that sounded interesting. Turned out to be mashed paneer and alu filling made in bonda style. Xavier walked down to the nearby bakery and bought chocolate muffins (very nice), a custard muffin (fairly nice), and a chocolate croissant (OK), while Amitabh ran into an old flame. By this time, we noticed that most people that came after us were being let in, and after a fair amount of screaming and threats, managed to get a place inside. It’s split into two floors, the first overlooking the ground, and we were seated above.

At this point, Amitabh wants me to write that their men’s room is pathetic. (To Amitabh, the loo is an important benchmark, again. If they take care of it well, they’re bound to take good care of the kitchen, etc.)

We settled on garlic bread, vegetable Au Gratin (pretty good), Canaloni Indiana (pasta cooked with spinach and tomato sauce — excellent), between the three of us. The service inside was acceptable. It’s a smoking restaurant (pity), and as always, I was flabbergasted to observe that there were more women smoking than men. There was a bar inside, too. The food was fairly filling. On the whole, I think I’ll come back here.

Kamdar’s Just Around The Corner is, in fact, just around the corner opposite Churchgate. It’s supposed to be Raveena Tandon’s favourite hangout, so hopes ran high. Rajesh and I walked in, sat down, and started discussing the the hope that the man in a white chef hat sitting at the adjacent table would come over. After a few minutes, we figured that

1. Just around the corner is a self-service restaurant, and
2. the man in the chef’s hat at the adjacent table was a guest.

So we got up, walked down the food aisle through the exit gate. (The manager gave us a dirty look, but I’m hoping it was because he was jealous we were thin enough to squeeze through.) There were soups, salads, pastries, sandwiches, and burgers. Except for the salads, the items were 75% non-veg. But the variety was fairly good, despite that. A bit on the expensive side, with sandwiches at Rs. 80, salads (a side order) at Rs. 70, and my apple pie at Rs. 45. But the ambience was nice, so were the people around. There were just 3 or 4 groups dining, while the place could seat several more.

Towards the end of the meal, a rather interesting black and white poster caught our eyes: Cindy Crawford, with the caption “I love my eggs the sunny side up.” She was lying with nothing on, and her posterior was just covered by the caption. Intrigued, we moved on to the other posters (all black & white).

• The Beatles: “It’s been a hard day’s nite, And I feel like a hot dog.”
• Nicholas Cage strangling John Travolta (clearly Face Off): “I was in line first”. (This one was placed where we had to queue for the food. Clever.)
• Madonna: “Always Mad-on-a frozen creamy milk shake.”
• Schwarzenneger (in Terminator): “You’ll be back for more!”
• Bruce Willis (in Die Hard): “Pack me a soup-salad combo to go! Hurry, or you’ll die hard for it.” (I don’t remember this scene — he’s on a phone in a cut-sleeves vest. Is it Die Hard 2 or 3?)
• Mr. Bean: “I can’t go wrong with beans on toast.”
• Julia Roberts: “Fresh salads always make me a pretty woman.”
• Vivien Leigh: “Care for some mayo or mustard on your sandwich?”
• Clark Gable: “Frankly, Scarlet, I don’t give a damn.” (Gone with the Wind)

There was also this poster with a girl that reminded me of Brooke Shields. I wasn’t sure. Since I was attracting enough attention walking down each poster and writing the captions, I figured I may as well call someone and ask them. So I went up to a cleaning boy, who professed ignorance. So did the cashier. Finally, they called the manager over, and the two of us studied the picture intently. (While we were doing this, at least two other groups who were dining, were doing the same — while staring at us in-between.) Finally, the manager came up with a tentative “Cindy Crawford?” I had to lead him up to Cindy’s “eggs sunny side up” poster, point out her mole, and say, “No way.” We promised to find out who that was and get back to him.

PS: It’s not Brooke Shields. In case anyone drops by, please have a look at the poster next to Mr. Bean. The caption is “Nothing comes between me and my french fries.”

PPS: It WAS Brooke Shields! I got confused. And she’s a Princeton graduate in French literature.