Less than 48 hours ago, I was in Diplomatic Enclave, in Delhi, eating dosa and papaya, but now, monkey-free, I am in Cambridge, cranky and tired and yet somehow content.
Yesterday, awake at the same ungodly hour of 5 AM (as now), no fishing boat available to get them stripers, I read Naipul and later shopped for food.
The huge supermarket down the street had colorful, brightly lit aisles–you know the drill–and little appetizing. The big news? Meat prices seem to have gone up 25% in 30 days. Is that possible?
Afterwards, a trip to Russo’s: The Boston “version” of Fairway. Here everything looked good enough to eat. Fruits, vegetables, cheeses, and cured meats–got to have that guanciale–with crowds of folks speaking an array of languages.
After working in the afternoon, I thought: Steaks. No beef for a month in India. But settled for pasta. Pasta and passing out @ 10 PM.