I love how the film toys with our seemingly progressive society. A year into public school, I really, truly, madly wanted to be a Winklevoss. They're suing me because for the first time in their lives, things didn't turn out the way they were meant to. This meant so much to me in school that for years I cursed the middle-class for having nothing except a bucket load of values.
I don't think that part of me has much of my attention, any more.
Ideally, I shouldn’t express this at the beginning of a review BUT I can’t hold it in. Lemon Grass is perfect.
An overwhelming star gaze greets me at 8 pm and a cute waiter with a ponytail (seen vaguely), gets a wooden menu. Surprise, surprise! The prices are super enough to splurge on two starters.
After a wet 10 minutes under a drippy ac, we change to a drier spot at the rear end. Just in time for the Bangkok crispy chicken stack's (Rs. 125/-) arrival in oodles of thai-ish sauce. No stack, but plentiful for two and laden with the goodness of garlic, soya and bell peppers. Ooh sweet memories. The chicken is crispy and soft inside. I scrape at the banana leaf to get to any and ALL of that gorgeous sauce.
I'm half done admiring this, when the Chicken stuffed Mushroom teriyaki glaze satay ( Rs. 140/-)makes a petite entrance. Mushrooms stuffed with minced chicken as promised, with a distinct flavour. 2 on each stick. 4 sticks. Plenty, again.
I love the crockery. Clean cut and wide, I want to steal it. Squared, wide-bottomed glasses that are a joy to drink in. Matching squared cutlery in dull steel. A white spread of plates to roll your food around and never run out of space.
This display of good taste continues when the main course arrives in two large round blue bowls. The plump head waiter had suggested a Lemon Grass classic stir fry prawns in chilli garlic coriander sauce (Rs 325/-).
Dollops of fresh vegetables and mid-sized prawns in thick gravy, over steamed rice. So comforting to eat in that big blue not-fancy bowl. A vegetable in every bite, a prawn in every 6 bites. Yellow bell peppers, baby corn, strange cucumber and leafy vegetables that are too oriental to identify. Would have been better a bit whet, nonetheless delicious and wholesome.
The best thing potpourri a.k.a Lemon Grass has done is got rid of the ugly confectionery rack. It opens up room for 3 more family tables. So, currently there are approximately 8 large tables and 5 tables for two. Plenty of space, I say.
The bill makes a curvy appearance in a Buddhist brass singing bowl. The only thing overpriced in comparison to the food are the beverages, with bottled water at Rs. 40/- and an iced tea at 80/-.An obsession with twisty stars, the open air, green buddhas and dim lights, gives Lemon Grass a dreamy quality. That along with the wooden tables, smiley + prompt service and delicous south-pan-asian food makes for a great budget Sunday dinner. I cannot wait to try the dimsums next time. Also, if you miss the potpourri deserts (I don't) they will be available again after Independence day.
Okay, I wrote this a long time ago. Eating out is Let’s talk about me’s section of restaurant reviews.
Sunday, 14th March, 2010
Ni D. and I turn to the wimpy Times Food Guide (Mumbai). You can fill your uneventful day by looking it up area-wise, craving-wise, budget-wise, decor-wise or just alphabetically if you’re rolling in time.
Today, it points to Alfredos. The convenient thing is they serve food all day and it was already 4 p.m. Buried behind the purple of CCD (near Prithvi Theatre), it has a dismal entrance, 2 floors, 4 occupied tables and a distracting IPL match. Despite that, the waiters are pretty prompt and feign enthusiasm. One scurries to get a single lemon iced tea, Char grilled fish in lemon butter sauce and Pizza Napolitano.
Snake inspired carvings and random posters thrust towards us. Lots of mirrors loom large , partitioned by a mid-sized TV drooping down on whoever cares to watch. Ni D.’s doodle explains the callous decor.
The cutlery is blah, the crockery cold and there are no napkins only pink tissues. Two pillars ahead of me, I see a bar on the side. Lots of waiters gleam hysterically at the TV. IPL is the buzz word.
Lemon iced tea arrives a few minutes later. Much too sweet + the lemon’s less. Rs. 35 forces me to suffice with what I get. Ni D. only cares for pizza.
10 minutes later her 8” Pizza Napolitano sizzles at us. The toppings (bacon+ chicken+ mushroom+ pepperoni + lots of cheese+++) trip over each other and a tomato-base thin crust. It’s gigantic, scrumptious and worth the money (Rs.200).
Overall, the prices are very reasonable. Also, the good thing is they dole out great portions - we managed to pack 3 slices of pizza. I’d recommend it- I remember fighting over the remains. The fish and the iced tea - #fail.
Haven’t we all held a fascination for the burning Ravana and gushed over his evil abduction of Sita? He's stomped generations as the big villain in Hindu mythology. Most have a vague idea of his part in the Ramayana; what with the golden deer, the great Hanumana and the monkey march to Sri Lanka. A man who is vicious, powerful and much feared. A man whose 10 headed-ness Ratnam's built through a schizophrenic dement who's lost in the potency his character holds. If you haven't seen the film, there are spoilers ahead.
The film begins on a staggering note of Aishwarya a.k.a Ragini a.k.a Sita the wife of head cop Vikram a.ka Dev ak.a Ram being kidnapped by Abhishek a.k.a Beera a.k.a Raavan. And even though I see its potential to grip, the film leaves an audience like me pretty devastated.
We see a new lean, trying to be mean Abhishek. A role destroyed by too many dimensions. His magnanimity and aura is talked about through the film. The villagers talk about it, the cops talk about it, his sister talks about it and even he talks about it. Unfortunately, the audience doesn’t know what the hell they’re talking about. Amongst favourite phrases like “Kach-kach-kach” and “Bak-bak-bak”, romantic notions, a violent fearless side, a tribe head, a brother, a good guy and more - we see Abhishek being more demented than 10 headed. Too much detail for a 2-hour film audience to fathom, let alone believe in. Especially when the tribesmen smear white mud on their faces as an excuse to burst into song. And by song, I can remember no song worth mentioning except
Beera Beera Beera Beera Beera ke dus maathe,
Beera ke sau naam,
Chede jo beera bol…
dhama dham dham dham Yea whatever!
Aishwarya is there. I mean she’s just there. Scrambling and screeching to connect with her unmoved audience. Gorgeous, yea. Divine and worth fighting over - no way! Her aviator clad and expressionless husband Vikram struggles with weak Hindi dialogues and random violent spurts. His insecurities a.k.a the evil side to Ram just blew by us and could have been harvested on. Like if you’ve seen Nina Paley’s Sita sings the blues.
The good parts? There are parts of the movie that let you hope. They quickly let you down thereafter. We finally see a role that gives the monkey in Govinda a stage. Even though we cannot possibly imagine his huge self leaping about the way the film shows, I am convinced of his character. Also, there are frames that have a keen cinematographic sense and yet I cannot take away any single scene that was breathtaking. All I can think of is the final lap of the fight between Beera and Dev on a wooden bridge that swings in the middle of nowhere. There is so little shown of the steepness of nowhere that the audience feels no dizziness of the scene. In fact, Beera whispers something about Ragini being made of gold and THAT turns out to be the climax of the situation - a fact you will get to once the director is done winding you about a series of irrelevant flashbacks.
All in all there's too much riding on too much. Spelling Ravana as Raavan doesn’t justify this clumsy attempt. The next time one decides to take on an epic, you must look up Raavan so you know what could go wrong when you’re competing with the gods.
