I am reading Saraswati Park, by Anjali Joseph at the moment. Now I want to go to India (or North London, perhaps) and eat jelabis and sev and bhel puris. I miss them! I want to go to an Indian restaurant which has a good selection of vegetarian food rather than the same five side dishes ‘also available as a main’. I want to walk past shops filled with beautiful sari fabrics. Things I took for granted as a child, now seem a million miles away.
Once, in an Indian restaurant, a few years ago now, I saw gulab jamon on the menu. ‘Fantastic!’ I thought, ‘a real pudding, rather than the super-frozen tooth breaker ice creams they usually have’. Sadly not. It was on the menu, but no longer available in reality.
I’m going to have to go and look up a recipe for burfi now.