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The Road Caste system of India and Black Pepper restaurant review
We refer to India as a “democracy”, but almost everything that goes on has some bearing on caste. It is a fact that is seldom referred to by politicians, but they play to their caste “vote banks” and their prejudices, every single election. When 43% of the elected politicians have either criminal backgrounds or serious cases pending against them, that is to be expected. A Gandhian outlook does not exist.
So let us see if we can determine how an ordinary person can distinguish who is what on the roads.
- Walking person, means either poor, or lives nearby, based on distance to nearest dwelling.
- Bicycle rider - working poor, farmer, tradesman, etc.. generally riding a Hero bicycle that is 5x heavier than a Western bike, has a single gear, but has robust everything else. It will last you 20 years without much maintenance to speak of, a thought that rarely crosses the owners mind anyway.
- Old, steel scooter - problematic brakes, tires, lights, balance, etc. but generally an older man who moved up from a bicycle and had to make monthly payments. Generally maintained when scooter serves notice, otherwise a means to go from point A to B. For young men, they would not be caught dead on one of these. Helmets, if worn, are never strapped under chin and come in a bewildering variety of non-safety graded headwear. Even Polo helmets.
- College student, riding a motorcycle that Daddy was convinced to buy, high performance, no safety, driven dangerously in a condition of “Machismo”. Often found with scantily clad girlfriend on back, clinging on tightly while he impresses with his expertise. A number of them can be found any day in the Doon Hospital Trauma Centre with different degrees of injuries. Helmets only worn within sight of police check post.
- Small, Indian made or assembled car, generally with a dent or three, maybe insurance, and maintenance or upkeep are illusory. Driven by family man with a small business. He had moved up from a scooter which sat 4 and has finally made it.
- Small, Indian made or assembled car, well maintained, driven by a driver, generally with an older couple in the back who have nothing to prove to anyone. Or driven by a businessman, doctor, etc. who also have nothing to prove and appreciates the practicality of owning a car that can go anywhere.
- SUV, various grades of expense. Generally used to impress, since no one drives off road in India, technically, given the conditions, you are already off road anyway. Sometimes found with a driver who thinks he is the Nawab of Hyderabad, and acts like it.
- Top of the line SUV. Shiny, sparkly, driven by uniformed driver. Worth more than a year’s salary for an ordinary person. Sometimes hyper expensive, imported ones. Everyone gives them a wide berth, because if you ding it, you don’t have enough money to pay for repairs. Generally owned by politicians or businessmen (mostly the same) and they have little sticks popping out of the edge of the hood that have cute little BJP or Congress or whatever pennants to warn people, Asshole comin thru!!!
- Taxis. Oh my God (OMG), they own the road and make sure they blow you into the weeds at every opportunity. They are fearless, ruthless, dangerous, hell bent to drop their fare and leave devastation in their twisted wakes. Most don't own the taxi they are driving, so consequently blame another driver for an accident, not their reckless ways.
- Mercedes, BMWs, etc.. Given a wide berth. They will never get a ticket since they know how to get it squashed. They are probably the most careful drivers, or being drivens, since they don’t want to mar anything that might spoil the image of superiority or arrogance with something so common as a dent, ding or scratch. They are connected, so normal people beware!
- White Toyota Innovas. Filled with Netas (Politicians) in white kurta pajamas speaking on cellphones like the mini Rajas they pretend to be. Sometimes accompanied by a police escort car to clear the road in front of riffraff. Just move over, they will go through in front of everyone anyway.
- White 1953 era Hindustan Motors Ambassadors. The universal politician transport now being replaced by Innovas. Generally found in a line, several escort police cars, several following cars containing Netas applying lip balm so their ass kissing of the Chief Minister’s butt in the lead car is smooth and gentle.
- Finally, the President and Prime Minister for whom roads are closed off with a multitude of saluting police officers blocking every possible side road. Two days ago the headlines were blaring that PM Modi actually was driven to a local school in Delhi, in ORDINARY traffic with minimal security. Never mind that his vehicle is bombproof or the best security is to be unpredictable. But, now he is a man of the people who also struggles in Delhi traffic. Subtract the Black Cats and their ultra modern submachine guns made by the Germans, of course.
My wife and I are humble, little people so we offer the following pictures for contrast. Years ago we decided to pip the arrogant drivers in Dehradun by placing a government red plate on our hyper cheap little car that reads “Nobody Important”. This was in contrast to a man driving a car we saw years ago which had a plate on the front which read:”Former vice student chairman”. He was in his 80’s. We found out later that Victor Bannerjee, the actor, an acquaintance, used to have a plate that read:”Sadharan Nagrik” on his vintage Morris Estate car. So we cannot claim to be original in the area. He gets a kick out of seeing our plate whenever we see him in Landour
Black Pepper Restaurant, Astley Hall, Dehradun, India Review
I am pretty sure that this review will not conform to the standards set by Michelin, NYT or, for that matter Zomato, but then I am not really a reviewer, just a customer. So here goes. First a bit of bona fides.
I started scrubbing pots in a seafood restaurant at the age of 12 and earned some spending money. I worked my way through the line cook’s jobs, head cook, chef de cuisine, food and beverage manager, general manager, regional manager and finally Vice President of franchise operations for a 23 restaurant chain on the East Coast of the US named H.A. Winston & Company. I used to fly the corporate Cessna 172, VFR only, between our franchisees and scare the living shit out of them when I showed up since their non conformance to contracts could lead to their being shut down on the spot. I was not beloved.
I loved my job to excess and with free access to the bar, I had to finally switch professions when my love of Remy Martin Cognac, Louis XIII overcame my better judgement.
To be clear, this in no way qualifies me to rate a restaurant in India. My wife, a Lucknow born gourmand, has more receptors in her tongue for Indian food than I do, so I have no pretensions. If she were reading this now, a storm of not so kind words would ensue as to:”How dare you rate Indian food at all, you don’t even like too many chilis. The effrontery, the hubris, the egomaniacal impulse that your damn blog brings out in you. Stop it this instant! and vaccum the bedroom, please.”
This is generally followed by the eternal husband phrase, used universally in all languages when that accusatory tone is used: “Yes Dear, right away Dear.” We men are such pussies….
But I love her, so it really is not a chore, merely an encumbrance. (Oh yeah, sure you deluded, ball less, self indulgent late night blog writing troll..”)
My God, he do go on, don’t he?
Ok. Black Pepper has been around since at least 2004, when I was taken there to impress me as the newly arrived Director of Astra Business Services. We had just opened a new call centre in Doon and people wanted me happy. Food was good and I didn’t go there again until 2017. So if you are looking for a carefully detailed analysis of their efforts over a period of years, you are shit out of luck.
Nalini and I ended up there because of a young man named Sunil Sailani. He used to be the bartended/bar manager (an ill defined title when the owner doesn’t purchase enough stock for his bar) at a hotel and we loved his open and very friendly personality. The food was OK, but the service and interaction with the staff made it worthwhile, so we spent one or two evenings a week having dinner in the bar. More intimate, you could ask for the volume to be lowered on the TV and we liked it.
Then Sunil left, and went to Black Pepper Restaurant and Bar. So did we.
Clean, (means a lot to my wife), nice decor, tablecloths, uniformly dressed staff, friendly environment and an obviously professionally run environment. White shirted floor managers, properly trained staff to greet you and seat you, etc.. I thought I was back in the Hyatt in Delhi, or the Sheraton Maurya (SP) or the Sheraton in Agra without the pretentious attitude bullshit. I liked it! A lot !
I prefer, when I have a beer, which is all I drink anymore, to be in a semi-lit, comfortable place without a great deal of pretensions going on. As a 64 year old, none too healthy looking Angresi, I get stared at. A Lot! This dining room/Bar Area did not have that feel, so I enjoyed it. At the risk of bragging, my wife is very good looking, a little sexy, 10 years younger than my 64 and she has the ability to interact with anyone here in Urdu, Hindu, a bit of Punjabi, Marathi and perfect English. In other words, she has skills I don’t possess.
To most people in India, she is an object of fascination, she looks like a foreigner, but can instantly brace you with some choice phrases to either get you to move or move away. I marvel at her, and, to be honest, envy her. What the hell this has to do with a restaurant review, I have no idea, and SO WHAT? it is just a blog, people, and hardly anyone reads it anyway, so consider it to be a type of literary masturbation. What you don’t like that? So what? It is not an incitement to anything, so get over it. Apologies, not tendered…..
Obviously I am getting testy, and my darling is snoring next to me, so discretion is the better part of valor, whatever the hell that means. I learned it in French, but never got the context, even then, so whatever..
Anyway, we have become friendly with the owner, and particularly, the owner’s son who spends all of his time in the place. He lived and worked in the food industry in Australia, loved it and made the fatal mistake of believing his father when he asked him to help run the restaurant for 6 months. Just 6 months, son!
He will be there until he is carried out feet first. He is a gentle, kind and empathic person, totally not Indian restauranteur. He knows his food, knows how to supervise the kitchen and staff and runs a very tight ship. His lovely wife is a wedding planner, so they keep it in the family, so to speak.
They serve excellent North Indian food, excellent South Indian, decent Chinese and, wonder of wonders, the best Penne and Lasagna I have had in a long time. Really! We try to spend at least one dinner per week there and are fairly well known as the “Odd, but Pleasant Couple”.
Last night I related our experience with the dog we rescued, Lucky and showed him some pictures of the dog. He promptly took out his phone, qasked for our car keys and instructed one of his staff to put a large bag of dog food in our car downstairs. He keeps a bag of Pedigree in his car and feeds strays to and from work. We sat there in amazement and profusely thanked him. Here is Lucky checking out the bag and scarfing down some of its contents.
My wife and I consider Black Pepper Restaurant and Bar the best restaurant in Dehradun. We have dined and drunk in quite a few in town over the years. But, this one wins hands down with food quality, service and ambience. We like it! Plus, the owners are nice…
Prices are reasonable, 2 for 1 on beer, different cuisines available, all prepared very well, great location. What more do you want? Go there, and try it out. You will not be disappointed. Oh, one more thing, they will be opening a bistro/cafe in their banquet hall with finger foods, pizza, etc. and you will get beer there as well. I am chomping at the bit to see how that turns out!
Speed bumps
These types of road hazards don’t exist in Quebec.
So you go out for dinner, maybe a beer or three, and you are greeted with these on your way home.
They calmly stare at you in some distracted manner, perhaps wondering why you are moving around in that noisy thing with the two bright lights in the front.
Alcatel POP 4 10.1 tablet
I have never attempted to review a gadget, but I feel compelled to now.
I spent Rs 11,000 on this tablet and it’s detachable Bluetooth keyboard. Here are the specs:
The tablet comes with a 10.10-inch touchscreen display with a resolution of 1200 pixels by 1920 pixels. The Alcatel Pop4 (10-inch) is powered by 1.4GHz octa-core processor and it comes with 2GB of RAM. The tablet packs 16GB of internal storage that can be expanded up to 32GB via a microSD card.
You can also plug in any thumb drive, which is how I play my music these days.
Lets contrast this to an Amazon Fire HD tablet running Kindle.
8.9 inch screen, no expandability, limited functionality and twice the price.
I have Kindle loaded, full Android 6.0.1 Marshmallow, lots more storage, and lest we forget, 4G, Wifi, Bluetooth, and all the apps I can load on my 32GB expansion card. The newest model has 3GB RAM and 32GB storage, plus expansion.
Crystal clear, very sharp HD screen, lightweight aluminum construction and a detachable keyboard.
I use Google Docs to work and don’t even bother with my 15 inch Dell laptop anymore.
Videos, movies, games, books, etc. And I can recharge from a battery pack for long trips.
Rs 11,000, not bad!
Rottweiler (Myth VS Reality)
REALITY
Bred by the Romans to guard their herds of cattle while on the march over 2000 years ago. They were expected to defend their charges against wolves, bears, and packs of wild dogs.
The Gran Canaria, an enormous breed of mastiff, has the strongest bite force of any dog at 2800 psi. Rottweilers are second at roughly 2000 psi. Basically both can crush through an arm and tear it off, whenever they wish.
Rottweilers are considered one of the top three smartest breeds. The others are Belgian shepherd and French poodle.
They can carry large loads in packs strapped to their backs for long distances. Few dogs, even ones trained to the task, will tolerate this for a long time. Rotties do.
They are fiercely loyal to their owners and their family. Their bred-in pack guarding instincts protect families. That is why so many families in Europe keep them.
Their even temperament makes them wonderful companions for children. Since little ones tend to poke and grab, you would think a Rottie would mind, but the kids are their puppies, so they tolerate them very well.
Because of their intelligence and their desire to please, they are easy to train, but do require frequent and vigorous exercise to burn off excess energy.
Like most large breeds, their average lifespan is 10 years. Kidney and Liver failure is most common.
They tolerate a wide variety of food and their diet should be kept varied.
They can be extremely affectionate, and even become “cling ons” when they realize we are going somewhere. Ours steals shoes to prevent us leaving him alone.
Our Jojo guards our neighbor’s five cows. The lady of the house knows exactly what is happening by his barks. Low for intruder crossing her field, high pitched to alert her that one of her cows is wandering around. Yelping when the husband leaves for work, basically “Don’t go!” Alarm bark when monkeys come, another for the cat, another for the new calf just born, as a greeting. One more to take charge of.
MYTH
They attack people with no provocation.
(As with all dogs, the way you raise them determines their behaviour and temperament. They are also quite sensitive to their owners emotions and body language, so if you feel threatened, they will protect fiercely.)
They are violent dogs, that’s why they are trained as attack or guard dogs.
(Their innate intelligence makes them trainable. If they were really so uncontrollable, their handlers, and anyone else nearby, would get attacked as well. Don’t forget, all K9 dogs, attack trained as they are, live with their handlers families and children.)
They are so strong, that they are difficult to control.
(Train your dog, first. Properly. Use positive reenforcement. I have seen Indian “trainers” beat dogs during training. They are the ones who should be beaten instead. Rotties can be totally controlled through voice alone.)
Don’t let them near children, they will bite them.
Children must be taught not to touch any strange dog without the owner’s permission. No exceptions!
(Our previous Rottweiler, Tyson, was a heavily muscled, fierce looking Rottie, who adored children. When walked off leash in our jungle neighborhood we would regularly encounter groups of screaming little schoolchildren running up to him, yelling in his ears, petting him, tugging his collar, etc. He faced all with equanimity and just smiled. (Yes, dogs smile) We once supervised 28 little girls from a Shimla school at a camp for one week. Tyson was off leash wandering around for the entire week. The girls would hug him, pet him, scream joyously in his ears, “walk” him and have pictures taken with him. The parents were the only ones concerned, the kids just loved him, and he them.)
Once attacking another dog, they will continue until the other dog is dead.
(On my stepson’s daily, long walks, they occasionally passed a driveway which was guarded by a very aggressive Bhutia who would continually challenge Tyson and Imran. One day they had had enough. Imran unleashed Tyson who in less than two seconds, flipped the Bhutia on his back and held him there, with his neck in his jaw, until separated. He was never trained for this and from then on, there was no trouble at that house. Just tail wagging whenever they passed. Rank hath its privileges.)
A fabulous book was written by a professor that should be must reading for any dog owner.
http://www.simonandschuster.com/books/Inside-of-a-Dog/Alexandra-Horowitz/9781416588276
Careless
On one of my infrequent trips back to the motherland. I was asked to describe Indians in one word. I used care-less or careless.
Don’t be offended, yet, hear me out.
Let me list some examples:
Babies being held in mother’s arms in the front seat. Perfect airbag!
Walking three abreast, facing away from traffic, on a busy highway. (70% of all reported accidents in India involve pedestrians)
Confidently entering a road without looking and expecting traffic to avoid you. Sometimes it cannot.
Crossing a street directly in front of a vehicle, instead of crossing behind it. Always a shock when I check my mirrors and there is nothing behind me. (“Me First” symptom)
The attitude that all foreigners are walking wallets and should be cheerfully screwed at all opportunities.
The consternation of a father who bought his son a high performance bike and visits him in Doon hospital trauma Centre.
Feeding children inordinate amounts of sugar, even though they are already obese and out of shape. India has the highest rate of diabetes in the world.
The incredible amounts of trash everywhere.
The messes that every workman in a house leaves for someone else to clean up.
Electrical work done by Jugad.
The way animals are treated.
And so on.
Yet, I have chosen to fall in love with an Indian and I love her and, now, our country. I know there is at least three generations of attitudinal change required to make even the slightest difference.
Kismat, so be it!
It’s “M” season!
It’s here, the one we look forward to all year. Mold season!
Nature decorates our abodes. Every vertical and horizontal surface is adorned with black, gray and green streaks. A faintly dissolute air hangs over the city, a sibilant whisper of neglect is in evidence.
The only happy people are the paint dealers. You can see them on Sundays, driving their little cars, filled with their families around Rajpur, Dalanwala and Vasant Vihar. The more upscale neighborhoods of Dehradun. You know they sell paint since you can see them gleefully pointing out particularly egregious examples of the mold decorator’s art to their gawking spouses and brats. “Daddy, look at that one! It’s a really bad one!” Meanwhile daddy is calculating how much the monsoon damage will allow him to rake in this year. Maybe enough to upgrade his children’s schools?
This reminds me of my childhood, growing up in Quebec, when our parents took us out on evening drives during Christmas time and pointed out particularly interesting decorations on the houses in our neighborhoods.
Obviously, outcomes differ, but the simile stands as to results. Both ended up with presents, so to speak.
There are certain mitigating solutions, literally, that you can do to prevent this annual orgy of micro organisms invading your surfaces. Germicides help, but not for long. Those little Indian microbe bastards laugh at our feeble attempts at mitigation.
Until you whisper:”Lotusan” and a dreadful silence pervades.
As you probably know, nothing sticks to a lotus leaf. Not toad shit, snake vomit, fly poo, or dismembered little animal parts. The surface of the leaf contains tiny bumps that don’t allow contact points for dirt and debris to adhere, so the plant, which lives in shit, has pristine clean leaves. It took a German company to figure this out, like another Alpenliebe candy take-over or BMW/Mercedes dealership in Gurgaon (Whoops, sorry, Gurugram).
(Pretty soon Dehradun will be named Doo bi Doo bi Doon, or something.)
Here’s the link.
http://www.sto-sea.com/en/company/innovations/sto-lotusan-/sto-color-lotusan.html
And here is where it’s sold. Notice a missing country of 1.3 billion people anywhere? Huh, do ya?
In a country that allows road construction, with planned obsolescence measured in months, is it surprising that an eco friendly paint that lasts, on average, 9 years, should be so far under the radar that it’s akin to Vijay Mallya’s financial dealings?
A lot of paint dealers would be out of business, very quickly, right? So how come they can sell it all over SE Asia, but not here? Don’t they have paint dealers too? By the way, if you factor in repainting costs every two years, this Lotusan is quite cheap!
Dunno, you decide...
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