I am starting to grow feathers.
Only 2o feet away, monkeys in the apple trees scuttle from branch to branch, leaping, while in the dining room, bowls of food keep appearing. The chicken alluded to is on the menu twice a day.
Last night it was chicken Birjani and it was really delicious: Chunks of yoghurt marinated chicken cooked in rice with raisins. The back story was chili while in the foreground it was salt, pepper, and cinnamon. The dish is Persian in origin–Birjani from the Farsi word Birjan–and it’s essentially a rice pilaf with spices and meat. The local cauliflower braised with anise; paneer; string beans; and, dal, well, it was all good as well.
Today’s lunch will be 100% veg, I’m told, and then perhaps Monkey Brains.
No, no monkey brains.
In other news, the Kashmiri crisis heats up over dam problems. We’re a stone’s throw from Kashmir, and close to western Tibet and Afghanistan, but here in Haasistan, the only dangers are GI and psychological.