You know that I don’t have things under control when I start shoving up posts about extracted wisdom teeth followed by fast food monsters hidden in the cute crusty guise of pizza, and then promise you a biryani post and end up having nothing to show for it, other than a link to an article I’ve written a very unbiryaniesque post on Dal Baati Churma in The National.
Forgive me O reader, I will get my sorry act together sooner than you can say…I dunno…’the frying pan burner ran out of gas.’
But contrary to what it may look like (Arva sprawled on beach chair in Honalulu sipping a cocktail and nibbling on whatever someone who’s serving the nibblies can bring to me without my moving an inch), I’m still writing, exploring the teeny places around Dubai, I have TONS of work windows open on my computer (see image above for confirmation) AND there’s positive chit chat on the stuff that I’m trying to do to change the Food World in Dubai – Frying Pan Adventures. Yep, thaaaat thing. Which I’ve been discussing and campaigning for months now. *the world yawns and moves on to more interesting things, like pretending to swat the fly that had flown out of the window of their windowless office five milliseconds ago*
But really, I beg you to go have Dal Baati Churma, or DBC as I’ve seen on some Indian forums where the need to acronymize is akin to a back itch, you gotta do it and do it fast, and when it’s done, there’s a massive sigh of relief over never having to enunciate the long-winded version ever again. And douse your DBC with some extra ghee if you do go try it. Why? Because if I can do cone-crust for you, you can do ghee for me. And ghee is good. Cone-crust is…*shudder*…cone-crust.
And that biryani post? I’m almost done, really. It’s even got a title that says: Biryani. It’s as smooth as butter from there…
[the kind of rock-solid cold butter that you have to jab your butter knife into like a psychotic butter marauder and slash across your bread until there’s nothing but buttery smithereens dying on your plate.]