Saturday Night Fever

Mohini, who’s originally from Goa, found out about my cookery classes whilst at the hairdresser’s. A women’s lifestyle magazine in the waiting room had an article about my home visits, so Mohini asked the hairdresser to fax her the page. The rest is history.

Many attendees were fellow teachers from the same primary school that Mohini works, so no-one was a stranger to order and discipline. Although a few took exception to being stood in the corner for unruly behaviour. Only joking.

The class ran smoothly. Here’s some of the girls rolling gulab jamuns.

rollin' rollin' rollin'...:

The food was rich and sumptuous – and the menu selection was aptly named ‘The Upmarket Vegetarian’.

a night at Mohini's:

The glamorous ladies seemed to enjoy themselves. As is often the case, I was the only male in the house. Alas, such are the austerities of my life.

“Water, water, everywhere,
Nor any drop to drink.”

(Samuel Taylor Coleridge, The Rime of the Ancient Mariner)
Posted by Kurma on 11/6/07; 8:10:09 AM

Life and Travel

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