Fire and Flavours: India

We’ve finally felt the last drops of rain, or rather downpours in Ankara (hopefully) – only last week I had to buy yet another umbrella which I lost almost immediately – and I’m already in that sleepy summery trance. Which explains my increased caffeine intake these days. You’re welcome, Starbucks. I’m just about to be finished with my Turkish course and every single day it becomes even harder to wake up and go to class. After 800ish hours spent in a claustrophobic room with unopenable windows covering grammar and whatnots over the past 9 months, it’s not wonder that my brain has reached saturation level and is begging for some rest. And the worn out faces on my classmates tells me I’m not the only one feeling it.

My pockets are not deep enough to be able to afford an escape every time I wish (which, let’s admit it, is pretty much all the time) from the mundane Ankaranian life but I did decided I needed some pampering, just enough for that boost I need before the final stretch.  So when I saw the advertisement for an Indian Food Festival at the Fire & Flavours restaurant in the JW Mariott Hotel, I knew I just had to go. Even if it meant it was going to be ridiculously expensive.

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Dig in!

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But from where to start?

My horrible unsuccessful day at Emniyet (the police station) to extend my residence permit yet again – finally sorted – during the day unleashed my stressed-eating mode, which led to the journey back home being quite…. challenging. In my drunk-on-food state I must have sworn I’d never indulge in such acts of gluttony again. Yeah like that’s gonna happen.

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And then down it went…

The Mariott definitely lived up to its reputation: the service was impeccable. The waiters didn’t judge when I was filling my plate for the fourth time or I was knocking down cutlery from the table in my excitement over the array of desserts they had – or at least they pretended they didn’t.

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Moong Dal Halwa. Didn’t taste as good as my mum’s though.
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Gulab jamun. Still as disgustingly sweet as I remember.
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… and many others.

We even got a personal hello from the chef who came to check if everything was alright and invited us to come taste the fresh fajitas they were having the Saturday after. Apparently, every Saturday It’s Mexican night at the Marriott. Don’t mind if I do.

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Back to the future: keeping the chicken tikkas hot

 

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