When I was a child, my parents had planted and maintained two vegetable gardens in our backyard in Texas City. One of them was devoted solely to Indian squash. And, under the tutelage of my Mom’s very green thumb, the squash (doodhi in Gujarati) grew like wildfire.
I have to admit, I was not a fan. Whenever I saw the long light-green gourd sitting on the kitchen counter — and given how well they grew, it was often — I unhappily realized what we were eating for dinner.
An while I’m still not a fan of eating the vegetable, typically chopped up into a daal dish, Indian squash is a great addition to bread. Simple, hearty, satisfying. This Indian flatbread — which is not baked but made on a stove — has the added tastiness of grated ginger and chilies and squash. Doodhi na debra comes with its own portion of vegetables.
Eat it alone or with some yogurt and/or chutney as a great light meal or snack. I could also see using the debra as a tortilla-substitute and filling it with some eggs or shredded chicken.
Peel squash and then grated. About one cup. Can use regular squash from an American grocery if you don’t have access to Indian squash.
Add grated ginger and chopped jalapeños.
Whole wheat flour, about 1 1/2 cups. (It’s best to source this flour from an Indian grocery: it’s milled differently than the ones in American stores. I don’t know the reason for the difference.) Add in small amounts of flax seed, soy, oat, and barley flours.
Mix and add a little canola oil to bind the flours and spices.
Add squash mixture to flour. (You’ll want to squeeze out as must moisture from the squash as you can.) Knead the dough. There will still be some water in the squash so mix first and if you need additional moisture, add water sparingly.)
Add a touch of yogurt.
How the dough looks like when it’s ready for cooking. Pinch out small pieces, about an inch in diameter. Smooth into a ball in your palm. Flatten ball on flat surface area and roll out into a thin circle.
I’m cross-posting my recent blog entry in Journey to Gujarat here on Parallel Universe. Please sign up for updates to my travels there as soon as they are posted!
Our itinerary read “Gopnath Beach,” a place not found in my guidebook or on any map I had. “Gopnath beach is known for its scenic beauty, limestone cliffs, natural surroundings and fascinating flora and fauna.”
We drove up to windswept cliff over the Gulf of Khambat and the driver stopped in front of a faded Dreamsicle-colored one-story building. No one came out to greet us. There was no sign, no lobby of any sort, nothing to suggest that this is rest-stop for travelers and, yet, the driver said this is “Gopnath Bungalows,” where we were to stay. I wondered if we were being dropped off at someone’s house, a friend of the travel agent who wanted to make some money off of gullible clients.
Dad and I exchanged “where are we?” looks and after, a few minutes, a man came out to the car. He looked sleepy, like we had woken him from an afternoon nap. He and the driver exchanged greetings and they both began to unpack our belongings from the car. Ramesh, that was the sleepy man’s name, we found out, sat on a plastic chair behind a desk on the sun-filled porch. He opened a cracked “guest register” – the spine had been taped over to keep the book together – and he wrote down “Kiran Shah.”
For the last few months, I’ve been focused on editing a 10-story package for Forbes Asia exploring trade ties between Gulf and Asian companies written by the magazine’s contributors all over the Asian continent. We’ve covered a lot of ground, from Taiwan to Saudi, from Singapore to Oman. Please see below for a full listing of our coverage.
It’s debatable whether the historical metaphor is the Silk Route or Spice Route, but neither still matters literally, so we’ll say that Arabia-Asia is a commercial and financial link that is ever more important in the world economy.
In this special section, to correspond with the first Forbes Global CEO Conference in the Middle East (being held in Dubai), we take a look at parts of this expanding trade. We do so in the FORBES ASIA way, through profiles of several significant business personalities and the firms they founded.
The package was nimbly edited by Angela Shah, a writer and editor based in Dubai. Her work has also appeared in The New York Times,Time, and Newsweek/Daily Beast. For more about Angela, see www.angelashah.com.
Personalities play a big part in our coverage. Few people have as much boots-on-the-ground experience in both regions as does David Eldon, former chairman of HSBC Asia-Pacific. Since retiring from the bank in 2005, he has served as chairman of the Dubai International Financial Centre Authority. In our interview with him he discusses a variety of issues and affirms that “trade links are trending east and south, away from the West.”
Another dealmaker in the region is Pakistani Omar Lodhi, of Dubai’s Abraaj Capital. He opened the firm’s Singapore office two years ago and is leading Abraaj’s push into Asia, particularly the ASEAN countries, whose population and GDP offer plenty of opportunity: “These regional Asian economies are akin to Europe.”
Growth in the region isn’t just about finance–even the most ambitious high-rollers take a break for dumplings and spring rolls after a long day of puts and calls. Lin Chao Wen, founder of Gulf Royal Chinese Restaurant chain, started out as a failed serial entrepreneur in Taiwan in the 1970s before he eventually ended up in Saudi Arabia, bringing Chinese food to the masses. In the process he immersed himself in Arab culture, eventually converting to Islam and building himself a lavish home in Taiwan that resembles an Arabian palace.
Just as Lin could never have known as a young man in Taiwan that he would end up in Saudi Arabia, P.N.C. Menon, founder of Sobha Developers, could never have predicted while growing up in a small Kerala village in India that he would end up being a big player in Gulf-region real estate. Says the man who appeared on the FORBES Billionaires List in 2006: “It came from nothing. I went [to the Gulf] with $7. I must have been making a little bit of money here and there to make myself comfortable.”
Another Indian who has spent a significant part of his life in the Mideast is Shaukat Ali Mir, chief operating officer for international electromechanical projects at Mumbai’s Voltas, a Tata Group company. Voltas has been providing infrastructure (plumbing, firefighting, drainage and electrical systems) for the Mideast since 1976, and Mir came to the region in 1982. Voltas’ most prestigious, and perhaps most challenging, project was providing the electromechanical guts for Dubai’s Burj Khalifa building, the world’s tallest. Mir is globalization on two legs: “I grew up in India. I am living in the Middle East. My children live in Canada, and I plan to retire in Europe.”
No survey of Asia and the Mideast would be complete without drilling into oil production. China’s biggest oilfield pipe maker, Hilong Holding, is one of the few Chinese companies with manufacturing plants in the Middle East, its fastest-growing regional market. Hilong’s business in Saudi Arabia, its main target, is a classic example of synergy: You provide oil, I’ll provide the means to get it out of the ground–everybody makes money.
But enough about electrical systems, plumbing, turbines and dirty oil fields, what about technology and all those sleek toys that everybody wants? Vincent Lai and Andy Soh, who share a “curiosity in playing with cool stuff,” are the founders of Tocco Studios, a maker of touchscreens and software. In 2009, when Lai and Soh were students at Singapore Management University, a group of Omanis visiting the university’s business incubator wanted to learn more about the budding entrepreneurs’ screens. The Omanis were captivated, and soon Lai and Soh were doing business in the Gulf, as well as having a Singapore office.
With all the money being made these days, we would be remiss if we didn’t offer a profile of a company offering folks a way to show off their wealth. Jeweler Joy Alukkas, like our other Indians profiled, made his entry in the Mideast decades ago. He opened his first store in Abu Dhabi in 1987, offering his wares to expat Indians. Eventually he moved back to India, bringing back with him an intangible commodity: marketing and business practices accrued in the Gulf. His Joyalukkas stores had $1.33 billion in sales last year.
For slightly less upscale shopping, consumers can go to the Dragonmart mall, a mass-market oasis on the outskirts of Dubai.
Finally, we profile five companies that are learning how to navigate the cultural and business currents that join China and the Mideast. One of our snapshots is of China’s Shenguan Holdings, a maker of sausage casings that recently announced it would be offering halal meat to the Muslim world.
The Arabia-Asia economy is not on a glide path. It has famously been interrupted through the centuries but also in recent times, as global busts in commodities or real estate, or other home-market vagaries, got in the way of would-be Marco Polos. But the lure of the great crossroads and the increasing wealth they connect makes it likely that the tales here are just an inkling of many more to come.
Here is a travel story I wrote for Gulf Business magazine following my trip to the Nepali capital last April.
The Other Face of Nepal
Kathmandu’s growing hotel options offer tourists a luxury experience away from budget paths.
By Angela Shah
THE NEPALESE CAPITAL has long been known as a backpacker’s paradise. Scruffy tourists fresh from Himalayan treks are easy to spot in Kathmandu. But if you set off the patchouli-scented path, a more luxurious respite can be had in the city.
Our first taste of Nepali luxury came at the grande dame of the capital’s hotels, Dwarika’s. Hidden by brick walls from the city’s streets, the hotel is a cluster of brick buildings of various sizes scattered across a tree-filled compound. Originally built in 1952 as the family home of its founder, Dwarika Das Shrestha, the hotel has expanded over the decades. Today, Dwarika’s is a living experiment in preserving Nepali heritage, especially its architecture.
In 1952, Shrestha saw carpenters sawing off the intricately carved window and door coverings for firewood. Alarmed, he created a workshop on his property that would not only house these carvings and others he bought throughout the valley, but also the master craftsmen of this dying art so that they could teach others.
The end result is a secluded mini-village in the middle of bustling Kathmandu that provides guests a serene spot to relax and rejuvenate. We especially enjoyed meals outside in the sun-dappled courtyard where the resident dogs and cats would come around and beg playfully. On Friday nights, Dwarika’s holds its weekly barbecue, now a Kathmandu tradition, which features grilled meats from beef to boar and a wide selection of both western style and Nepali vegetable preparations.
But for us, Dwarika’s signature culinary experience is that at Krishnarpan, its Newari cuisine restaurant, which offers diners the chance to sample traditional Nepali hospitality in sumptuous surroundings. (See Datebook below.)
So if Dwarika’s is the yin of Newari hospitality, the Hyatt Regency Kathmandu represents the yang. The American hotel chain built its property here as a “city resort” stretched over 37 acres and looks like it might have been an old Nepali plantation home.
What appeals about the Hyatt is its familiar luxury. After a day immersing all five of our senses along the streets of Kathmandu, the hotel was a tranquil home to which to return. While Hyatt has infused the property with indigenous touches with the herbal bath products and a Nepali-style front lounge, the hotel has kept faithful to the look and feel of premier Hyatt rooms worldwide. “The room looks like a Hyatt room,” my travel companion said. “There’s something nice about knowing exactly how everything will be.”
The Hyatt is conveniently located just a few kilometres from the Kathmandu international airport, making it an ideal stop for the start of a Nepal trip, or an end to one, as it was for us. The day before our evening departure, we took another quick trip to the Boudhanath stupa – the most holy of Tibetan Buddhist shrines outside Tibet and also a UNESCO World heritage site — only a 10-minute walk away.
Families will find the hotel especially appealing as a place to relax and unwind amidst the Himalayas. The “backyard” contains two pools, one reserved for children, three tennis courts and a 1,600-metre jogging track around the hotel grounds.
During our stay there, a monsoon pounded its way through the city, so we stayed in and enjoyed a cozy dinner at Rox Restaurant and Bar. And we got the chance to savour a rare but welcome luxury for Dubai-dwellers: rain.
World heritage: Spend an afternoon at one of Nepal’s UNESCO World Heritage Sites: Bhaktapur, an hour’s drive outside of Kathmandu. No cars are allowed in the city, which is full of architectural gems from the 15th century, including the gates of Durbar Square and the Temple of Nyatapola, one of the tallest pagoda-style temples in the Kathmandu Valley.
Holy shrines: The Boudhanath Stupa is one of the holiest shrines in Buddhism and one of the world’s largest. The eyes of the Buddha are painted on each of the four sides of the tower and keep a watchful eye over the penitents spinning prayer wheels or merchants hawking prayer beads, handmade pouches and hats and idols.
Holiday peaks: No trip to Nepal is complete with a sighting of Mount Everest, the world’s tallest peak. For those of us without the stamina to trek to base camp, several airlines offer hour-long flights around Everest and its sibling peaks. (buddhaair.com)
Eating out: Feeling hungry? Then the 22-course tasting menu at Dwarika’s Nepali restaurant, Krishnarpan, is for you. Following local custom, diners are asked to take off their shoes at reception and proceed to low tables in a traditional style. Our favorites included chicken and yam curries in addition to dishes made with vegetables sourced from Dwarika’s own farm.
Yes, really. I’ll get to the Swedish part in a bit. A good wood oven-baked pizza and a bottle of red (shared, preferably) is one of my favorite meals. Sadly, I’ve found that hard to find since I moved to Dubai. Don’t get me wrong; there are plenty of Italian restaurants here, but I’ve been underwhelmed each time. For me, pizza is the benchmark by which you judge the entire menu — sort of like cheese enchiladas and Tex-Mex places — and, sadly, there have been few repeat visits to places once tried.
Last night, J.B. suggested we try this “Swedish pizza” place. I mean, I know he tries to stay on the forefront of gastronomy and all, but I did raise an eyebrow. Uh, what? He said a mutual friend had recommended it, so we looked at the website. Verona Pizzeria did indeed feature pies with names such as “Stockholm,” “Malmö,” and “Gothenberg.” The variation is largely in which vegetable toppings are included, but the base is döner kebab, the white kebab sauce, tomato sauce, onions, a sprinkling of mozzarella and tomato slices. And it was located in Barsha, a newish neighborhood born out of the sand only about five miles from where I live. (I was especially intrigued because I am particularly fond of this neighborhood despite the fact of its very un-Dubai lack of glamour — or, maybe because of it.)
Winding through Barsha, which is designed like a rat torture maze, we finally find it at the corner of I’ll-never-find-this-again and Which-turn-should-we-take? Fluorescent lighting illuminated the tiny seating area, which had three tables covered in red-and-white checkered tablecloths, menus and the Swedish-siblings napkin holder (pictured above.) But we were unconcerned about the ambience, because we were overwhelmed by the mouth-watering scent of baking pizza.
Properly hungry now, we settled in and ordered a large Kebab pizza to share. (Sadly, Verona is unlicensed, as most non-hotel restaurants here are. A glass of cab would’ve paired nicely.) The pie crust was what we noticed first: crispy, with the right chewiness, and strong enough to hold up even with a generous helping of ingredients piled on top. The kebab slices were tender and spicy, and the mix of the tomato sauce and the yogurt-based kebab sauce gave the pie a creaminess not unlike what you would find on white pizza. We devoured our pizza. (Did I mention the crust?) And I can’t forget to applaud Verona because, unlike every other pizza place in this city, it has crushed red pepper! For this reason alone, I will be loyal to this pizzeria.
Here’s the Swedish part. Brought in by Turkish and Arab immigrants, kebab has transformed most pizzerias in Sweden, and is one of the most popular pizzas in Scandinavia. So it’s not unusual to hear Arabic spoken behind the counter at pizza places, which is what we found at Verona. Its manager is a Syrian who lives in Sweden and he’s hired fellow Syrians to man the restaurant.
I’m eager to try the rest of the menu, which includes the remaining kebab pizzas which include pineapple or feta, olives or cucumbers, as toppings. And no worries if you’re not feeling very Swedish. The menu has more than 30 pies, such as the Margarita and Quattro Formaggi, as well as the Mexicana (minced beef, fresh tomato, green pepper, banana pepper, leek green onion and tabasco) and the Indiana (chicken, peanut, pineapple and curry) in addition to a slate of beef fillet pizzas.
The variety is impressive, and at about $13 a pie or less, I’m looking forward to sampling as many as I can.
I hit a milestone birthday this year, the ripe old age of … cough, cough … . It hasn’t driven me to some existential crisis but it does get you thinking, about the past and where you thought you’d be, the present, and what might be in the future.
I certainly never would have guessed that today I’d be writing this as a freelance journalist living in Dubai. But I’m convinced all these roads-I-didn’t-know-I’d-travel have enriched my life and, in ways I’d never expected, have spurred me even more to follow my dreams as a writer.
Today’s guest blog post is related to this. J.B. has finally started his blog, “Mise en Place.” And, like the journalist he is, he’s got big news in the first entry: This summer he’s headed to Europe to learn from Michelin-starred chefs in two stages, food-speak for unpaid internship. Please take a look at the blog, and, if you can, support him along this journey.
Changing careers, working for free at our age?! Emphatically, yes. He’s a great cook – believe me, I’m having to add miles to my workout for a reason – and I know he will thrive among his new food tribe, create wonderful and tasty food, and realize his dreams.
One of the reasons I moved to Dubai was to be closer to India. Growing up in Texas, India was a full 24-hour plane ride away and schedules often made it difficult to carve out the minimum of three weeks we would need in order to make the journey worthwhile. When I started working, the usual starting vacation allotment of two weeks made it basically impossible to think about traveling so far.
In the last year I’ve been able to visit the subcontinent three times. In August 2010, I went to Sri Lanka for the first time. A few months later, my cousin, N.G., and I took a trip through Kerala, in south India, and we also visited Delhi, and Agra, where our grandmother lives.
I went to Delhi in November 2010 nearly 18 years after I first – and last – visited the Indian capital. Here are some pictures from that weekend of mostly new Delhi: Connaught Place, India Gate and the surrounding neighborhood. We also spent a beautiful winter’s afternoon exploring Lodhi Gardens in the south of the city.
At the vanguard of new Basque cuisine, this seaside town has been luring foodies for decades. A tour of some of its Michelin-starred restaurants and cheery pintxos bars reveals why San Sebastián’s culinary appeal is as strong as ever.
By Angela Shah
There might be fine silver cutlery on the tables at Mugaritz, but when they bring out chef Andoni Luis Aduriz’s “beer and olives” —a canny trompe l’oeil of tapa beans disguised to look just like black olives and accompanied by a frothy broth of toasted chickpeas—we’re expected to eat it with our fingers, tavern-style. The soup course is likewise hands-on: waiters present us with individual pestles and mortars, which we use to grind a medley of spices before drowning the mixture in a flask of fish broth.
It all makes for a delicious, entertaining extravaganza that lasts through 16 courses, ranging from “edible stones” (baby potatoes coated in edible clay to resemble the gray pebbles found on San Sebastián’s beaches, and nested in a “soil” of coarse salt and pepper) to “Shhhhh … Cat Got Your Tongue!”—an assemblage of delicate strands of slow-cooked beef tongue tweezered into the shape of a tiny bird’s nest. It’s the most theatrical meal I’ve ever had.
The stage for this is the Basque Country of north-central Spain, where I’ve arrived with a trio of friends from Dubai and Dallas. More precisely, we’re in the tiny mountain village of Errenteria, about 20 minutes outside the seaside resort town of San Sebastián (or Donostia, in Basque). We’ve come here on something of a food pilgrimage: with fewer than 200,000 residents, San Sebastián and its surrounds are home to an impressive 15 Michelin-starred restaurants, among them some of the leading lights of nueva cocina vasca, or new Basque cuisine. Starting with the avant-garde cooking of Mugaritz, whose chef apprenticed under the Catalan maestro Ferran Adrià, we’ve planned to sample as many of these as we can fit into a week. Or should I say afford: with Mugaritz’s multicourse degustation priced at about US$250 a person, our budgets (and waistlines) will stretch to just four of San Sebastián’s haute ristorantes.
Gordon Ramsay, who was the first British celebrity chef to have a Dubai culinary outpost, recently announced he would be closing his restaurant, Verre. It opened in 2003 in the Hilton Creek hotel along Dubai Creek, back when this area was the epicenter of life in Dubai. Presumably, business hasn’t been good since the center of Dubai has shifted west to Old Town and Marina. But more than that, I happen to think that the clients dropped off after paying a significant sum for mediocre food. Mushy peas as haute cuisine? Bleh. It didn’t work.
Dubai boasts it has an impressive culinary pedigree. And, certainly, the names are there. Gary Rhodes and Pierre Gagnaire both have signature restaurants here. Bice, Nobu and The Ivy have replicated in the U.A.E. from their American or British home bases. The tastes just don’t meet the expectations of the hype or the bill. Considering J.B.’s culinary prowess, I don’t go out to eat very much anymore.
Happily, I’ve embarked on a different culinary journey in recent months, along with the capable sherpas of my friends V.P. and A.G. Both Texas Exes, they were raised here in Dubai and remember this town before … the boom, the craziness, the kitsch. Instead of Gordon Ramsay, Dubai diners should get to know Majeed, the Irani proprietor at Special Ostadi in Bur Dubai.
Ostadi is located just outside of Meena Bazaar, one of the main Indian shopping districts in old Dubai. It opened in 1978, making it eligible for historic status if Dubai did that sort of thing. The tiny dining area has posters of U.A.E. sheikhs, pictures of Dubai, then and now. This is no hyper-styled interior design: one of the wall features is a display of old cel phones, including, as V.P. pointed out, the first ever cel to be available in Dubai.
Three generations can be seen working the tables and the restaurant does one thing: kebabs. Your choice is mutton, chicken or both? We left our fate in his hands and were rewarded with a platter of yogurt-marinated chicken and mutton, along with a pair of those cooked in lemon juice. A saffron chicken kebob accompanied a minced lamb kebab. We also had garnishes of tomato and cucumber slices and chopped green onion and Irani raita to accompany the meat.
I thought the kebabs were great, simple grilled meat. What really made the meal memorable was the hospitality of Majeed. Calling himself “Mohan Singh,” with the unlikely heritage of being a Irani Sindhi, he spoke Hindi to us. He joked around in Arabic and Farsi to patrons at other tables. As soon as he saw me taking photos of the dishes, Majeed selected me as his favored victim. Perhaps it was the most micro manifestation of our two countries’ animosity toward one another.
He stole my iPhone off the table, only later to “return” it wrapped in foil as a KitKat for dessert along with the dates and mint tea. He snuck a lemon into my purse and planned to accuse me of stealing it when we left. (I foiled this part of the plan when I reached into my purse for my lip balm and found a lemon laying there.) Most outrageously, my friend V.P. was conspiring with him, mistakenly thinking I didn’t understand Hindi. Hey, I might be A.B.C.D. but I’m not that confused.
We laughed through dinner, watching Majeed practice his trickery on us and the other patrons. I personally think Majeed and I did something positive for U.S./Iran relations. In any case, you never get this kind of local, neighborhood-y feel in Dubai’s pricey, celebrity restaurants. So, farewell, Mr. Ramsay, as long as we get to keep Majeed.
We also visited (not the same night) Al Tawasol, a nondescript Yemeni place in Deira. We sat in traditional Yemeni tents set up in the family section in the back. The front part of the restaurant is a communal majlis-style seating area for men only. The menu here, too, was very simple. We ordered two half-chickens, one grilled and one baked, over a mound of rice. We ate off of one plate with our hands, Yemeni-style. My favorite discovery about Yemeni food was zhug, a type of salsa. With tastes of chiles, coriander and black pepper, it gave our chicken and rice a nice kick and I’m thinking would be a good addition to tacos as well. I found this recipe online and plan to make a batch soon.
3 cardamom pods
1 teaspoon black peppercorns
1 teaspoon caraway seeds
4-6 hot chilies
1 ½ cups coriander sprigs, washed and drained
6 cloves of garlic
½ teaspoon salt
¼ cup cold water
1. Place cardamom pods, peppercorns and caraway seeds in the jar of a blender and blend to a coarse powder.
2. Cut stems from chilies, leaving rest of chili intact. Add to blender jar with remaining ingredients and blend to a coarse puree
3. Turn into a small saucepan and bring to a boil. Simmer uncovered for 10 minutes, then place in a jar, seal and tore in the refrigerator.
Use as a bread dip or as called for in recipes.