We're just taking it easy here in all sorts of ways. On Wednesday, I went to Twingo pica with rk13, Katerina, Yura and Valerych, the stray terminator robot. I liked the pizza there, I ate a creation called Mexico – with a mountain of little onions. The price, admittedly, isn't exactly humane – 6 LS ($12), and by "large pizza" they mean something closer to a medium. But it's worth the money. However, they kicked us out of Twingo because they only stay open until 9. We headed over to Vesma (more on that below), but they kicked us out of there at 10. We had to trudge over to rk13's place, where his dad treated us to some roe deer sausage, and rk13 stubbornly refused to believe me about various facts (maybe out of beer-fueled obstinacy, or maybe he was just IRL trolling). For instance, about how New Year's Eve in Russia only started being celebrated on December 31st starting with the era of Peter the Great, and that the MacOS operating system kernel called Darwin – is FreeBSD, and absolutely not Linux. And while I'm not entirely right about Darwin – being FreeBSD, I'm practically 100% correct about New Year's.
And today, my colleagues Prince Mosala and Ezhi and I went for a special lunch at Dima's, who's really into Indian spiritual practices. Because of this, I call him either a yogi or a cultist, but I'm hoping I'll make it out alive because these very practices frown upon violence. Anyway, this time around Dima only acted as an assistant to a chef named Katya in preparing traditional Indian dishes. (I hope I got the name right, I always have this phobia that I'll miss the mark). Obviously, India is huge, the traditions there are diverse, but the food we tried wasn't spicy, but quite the opposite, rather mild. I asked what the dishes were made of, but I was too shy to record the answer on video, and I still haven't gotten around to buying a smartphone.
The only thing that can be said with certainty is that there were 7 dishes, which Dima made a point of repeating to us a couple of times, just to be sure (That's if you count everything separately, as is customary). One of the delicacies was potato-based, another – rice, all with spices, but not spicy ones, as I mentioned before. The rice came with a special homemade tomato sauce, which was also mild and pleasant, not as harsh as the Heinz that Americans love so much. Then there was also a cucumber salad, a drink based on full-fat kefir (usually made with yogurt), and a dessert in the form of dried fruit balls. I almost forgot about the coarse whole wheat flatbreads with bran, only the photos saved me.
Everything listed above was free of any animal-based components that could be considered “taken” from animals, meaning meat and eggs. At work, people jokingly call it “kosher”. In principle, the concept is the same (just like with Islamic halal), it's just that the choice of products is dictated by Indian tradition, or rather, one of them. Dairy is also popular, and alcohol is strictly forbidden, especially on holidays.
This kind of food is called “sattvic” and is supposed to bring about an elevated state of spirit. Such ideology and philosophy sounds pretty naive and romantic to our ears, but it's far better than the misanthropic logic of LiveJournal drama queens, trolls, and Dvach users. (For the meanings of these words, see lurkmore, I'll write about it later). At least, that's what I think at this current moment in time.
Mosala, aka the Prince, looks like a real spiritual guru in the photo, and I've got my usual weird smirk. On the left is Ezhi, who is unusually quiet today for some reason. Why we are all wearing black, I am completely unable to explain. Guess it's karma.
We didn't stay at Dima's for long, because that was the plan – just lunch, not the whole evening. I hadn't really thought about it, but I don't care – it turned out great anyway. We all enjoyed the food – I love exotic stuff, Ezhi also doesn't mind trying all sorts of interesting things, and the Prince is chill by nature and usually likes everything. That's probably why he's so good at playing an Indian guru – he's in a constant state of satori anyway.
Be that as it may, we directed our steps to the bistro-bar Vesma, an utterly cliché place, but with huge fish in an aquarium and a wide selection of tea. We called up some more people and sat there for an hour or two over a leisurely tea chat.
The fancy tea at Vesma is poured into an interesting teapot, the bottom part of which sits inside a mug. Because of this, you can carry it with one hand, and the mug gets warm since the teapot is sitting inside it. Also, it's big, just the way I like it.
